6
TENNESSEE
My ears rang from the gunshot, even after I instinctively covered them with my hands. I stood, wide-eyed, unbelieving. He’d killed him. I’d never seen a dead person before, but I knew my father was gone. From one second to the next. The wound to the center of his chest had bled at first, then when his ragged breathing stopped, so had the red stain that spread across his shirt. His eyes, the same fair blue as mine, stared vacantly at the ceiling.
“Do you want to be next?” he asked, turning his gaze toward me.
I’d thought Mr. Grimsby attractive. At first. But now, his physical appearance could not hide the evil within.
I shook my head.
“Then you better hope your scarred friend returns promptly, and with a great deal of money.” He beckoned one of his men to his side.
We wer
