The Inspector Walter Darriteau Murder Mysteries - Books 1-4 by David Carter (best finance books of all time .txt) 📕

The dream, or rather, the memory, messed with my mind, and I can’t focus on when that was. It feels like the past, a long time ago, but it also feels eerily like the present. I recall my childhood with clarity, but there are moments that seem almost… missing.

Since the first night I heard my folks fighting, till the day Lycan took me, I had strange dreams in the Bardot house. As if I was always meant to be stolen by the hunter and taken by the wolf.

But I can’t tell Darius that. I can’t confess anything to this man. So, instead of explaining what happened, I answer, “Nothing.”

“Didn’t seem like nothing,” he says, a dark brow arching as he regards me. When I don’t respond, he doesn’t push further, so I grab the coffee and gulp it down quickly. The heat scorching my tongue, but the caffeine offering me a sense of calm.

“Thank you,” I say instead. “This is good.” I hold up the mug which is almost empty.

He smiles then, and my heart lurches in my chest. Each time I look at him, he reminds me of my husband. The man who’s wounded because of Darius. “I make a mean coffee.”

“What are you going to do now that you know my grandmother isn’t your mother?”

5

Darius

What am I going to do?

I’ve been so hellbent on revenge; I haven’t thought about the after.

The way she looks at me makes me feel almost human. That’s what Lycan saw, that’s what made my brother fall for this girl. And that’s what she is, too young for me and him, but she’s here, trying to burrow herself in my mind.

“I have to head out for a bit,” I tell her. “You’ll stay right here while I’m gone. Howler will be right outside if you try any funny shit. And trust me…” I pin her with a stare. “They are under order to do whatever it takes to subdue you.” Even though the thought of my men touching her sends rage through me, I can’t help but smile when the fire sparks in her pretty eyes.

“I thought you were human,” she spits, setting the mug down now that it’s empty. She seemed to enjoy it. I make a mental note of how she likes her coffee before I open the door and step over the threshold.

“Never claimed to be, little one.” I shut the door behind me, listening to the symphony of her screams from the other side. Howler comes walking up to me, a grin plastered on his face.

“Sounds like your girl is awake,” he says, chuckling around the words.

Nodding, I glance over my shoulder at the thick wooden surface. Her hands will get sore eventually, and her throat can’t deal with that kind of screaming for too long. “She’s a fiery one.”

“Let’s go,” he says, his tone turning serious. “They’ve got the Treasurer of the Serpents down in the basement. Luckily you took your girl out of there.”

“She’s not my girl,” I bite out, frustration causing my fists to clench at the thought of not having her. Walking down the hall, I listen to the last few whimpers from Scarlett, and I crack my knuckles ensuring I’m ready to take on the bastard they brought in. The Serpents are a club of vile motherfuckers, and the member they brought in for me to talk to is our latest victim. A man who has a mile long list of crimes that would have made my skin crawl if I hadn’t seen it before.

Outside, I find my men waiting. We make our way together toward the basement where I had Scarlett when she first arrived on the compound. Thinking about her has me glancing over my shoulder to find her at the bedroom window. Even from this distance, I can feel her anger.

I can’t help but tip my fingers in a mock salute as I descend the steps into the darkness where I find William, better known as Billy, to his friends. He’s bound to a chair, his mouth gagged with a thick cloth, but his eyes are wide as they take me in.

His muffled pleas fall on deaf ears as I focus on the metal table which holds the implements which I’m about to use on him. “Billy Boy,” I greet, chuckling when he tries to mumble, but it’s stifled by the gag. “Time for your reckoning.”

The fear that skitters in his eyes has elation shooting through me. With having so many fucking emotions coil inside me since I took Scarlett, I need this. The violence and bloodshed. I reach for the cloth, ripping it from his mouth before I step closer toward him.

“Tell me something,” I start, lifting the hammer I picked up from the table moments ago. “Did you enjoy those girls you took home after the party a few nights ago?” When my question hits home, his eyes are as wide as fucking dinner plates.

“W-w-what?” he stutters, but he can’t deny it because we have proof. When I heard the rumors about this pig using his authority within the club to get teenagers into his car, or on his bike, we kept a close eye on him.

He hasn’t slipped up before. But a few nights ago, a party at the edge of the local college campus attracted a few underage girls. The cops got there in time to shut it down, but with the Serpents hanging around, Billy Boy over here managed to pick up a couple of those partygoers and take them back to his place.

“I’m not stupid,” I tell him, bringing the hammer down on his knuckles, earning me a howl of agony as the crack of bone echoes in the room. “I hear things. A lot of things.”

“I-I didn’t do a-anything,” he mumbles, before I swing the hammer at his cheek, watching it cave in from the impact. It’s small enough to ensure he’s still able to speak, but if he was to survive