Micah approached me. His eyes ran over my face, assessingly. “You told me you didn’t know how to shoot.”
I shook my head. “I said I didn’tlikeguns. I never said I didn’t know how to use one. My grandfather put a gun in my hands at eight years old.”
He grinned. “I’m one lucky son of a bitch. Good job leaving that trail for us to follow.”
I frowned. “I hope you brought my shoe.” I looked down at my wet sock.
He chuckled, and pulled my face to him, crushing our lips together.
I heard Joel and Sy snickering.
“I’ve got the cleanup crew on the way,” Joel said.
I pulled back. “Hound, he’s hurt.”
“We found him,” Micah said, but his expression was grim.
My heart sank, and I pressed my forehead to his chest.
Chapter Thirty Four
“Tell Grandma I said hey,” I whispered, before sighing and closing my eyelids. Inhaling, I let the smell of the pine and cedar trees surrounding us tickle the insides of my nose. “Mm,” I hummed when Micah’s warm presence enveloped me from behind.
He collapsed his strong arms around me. I turned my body until I could rest my face against his chest.
“He’s at peace.”
I nodded. “They all are.” I sighed with a heavy heart for the young lives that’d been destroyed by McDowell and his cronies.
“Those bastards are getting what they deserved,” Micah asserted in a firm tone.
I thought about the indictments of several board members of Children’s Crusade, including Dr. Greene and two adoption attorneys. Unfortunately, Amy Cherney’s body had been found along with three other missing teenage girls. The sick bastards discarded the girls in the woods a few hours away from Harlington.
Luckily, Martina, the girl that had been with that cult Micah tracked down, was found alive. The cult members aided in funneling money from the nonprofit to its benefactors, and to hide girls once they were pregnant or in need of transportation. It was a convoluted and complicated strategy that allowed them to get away with this for so long.
“Thank you for coming with me to do this,” I finally spoke. I looked up at Micah and ran my hand down the side of his cheek.
“Did you think I’d let you do this by yourself?”
Chuckling, I shook my head. “I knew you wouldn’t.” I turned back to face the river where I’d released my grandfather’s ashes. The urn sat on the dock we stood on with the lid at its side.
Glancing around, I felt grateful that we were the only ones there. This was the same location where my grandfather died. Where that son of a bitch, McDowell, tried to kill me.
Micah and I stood on a dock on the opposite side of the swimming hole.
“They loved this place,” I spoke of my grandparents. “Even McDowell’s ugliness can’t dampen what this location meant to the both of them.”
“I can see why,” Micah added, wrapping his arm around my shoulders.
I giggled when a whimper sounded to my left. Looking down, I squatted, taking Hound’s face into my hands.
“I’m so glad you’re feeling better, boy.” I scratched behind his ears. It’d been six weeks since he was shot. I thought he died, but Micah’s team was able to get him to one of the best veterinarians in the area. They had to operate, but it saved his life. Something I felt grateful for every day.
“No, you can’t go in the water yet,” I chided. “Your stitches are still healing.” I went to wrap my hand around Hound’s collar to prevent him from jumping in to swim when I felt something hard. “What’s this?”
Micah sighed. “You’re spilling all my secrets, boy.”
“Be nice to him. He’s still healing.”
