Weaver nodded, though he still looked like he was blaming himself.
“I shot him in the stomach the first time,” I said.
“And the second?” he asked. “That looked like it happened later.”
“It did,” I admitted. “I, uh, took offense to something he said.”
His eyes sharpened. “What?”
I repeated everything.
Boston gagged.
Weaver’s eyes went electric.
“Good,” he said quietly. “We’ll just act like it happened in the heat of the moment, though. Don’t repeat what you said to anyone else but me.”
“And me.” Boston bumped me with her shoulder.
“Black or Gentry’s going to want to talk to you,” he said. “You up for it?”
I nodded.
“Then let’s do it.”
Twenty-Four
Stop making different flavors of Coca-Cola. Either put cocaine back in it or leave it alone.
—Food for thought
Weaver
“I sent these to your mother and father already. They should be getting them via a messenger in the next hour. We’ll get them moved up here as soon as they go about selling everything down there. Once we have everything in place there, we’ll slowly start moving them this direction. They said they would travel the country in their RV first, though.” Apollo continued with his plans.
“Perfect,” I said as he laid out Boston’s new birth certificate, learner’s permit for the state of Montana, school records, and anything else that Boston might need to for her new identity.
“I changed over everything in the system. As far as the US of A, Boston no longer exists. Your parents, after they sell everything, won’t exist, either. All assets have been transferred over using multiple pit stops to obscure the trail. Literally, there’s nothing left of y’all’s old life anymore.” He paused. “I’m working on it for your sister, too.”
My brows rose. “You think she’ll actually take the help?”
“Yes.” He grinned. “Once I show her that we can actually make everyone safe with her here.”
I wasn’t so sure that we could.
“Sonny’s pretty fuckin’ well equipped,” I admitted. “And he’s very obsessed with my sister.”
“Let me work on it. I’m not making any sudden moves just yet.” He paused as he looked me over. “You know, there’s one solid way to make sure that you’re safe, and she’s safe.”
I knew where his line of thought was going.
“You think we can accomplish it?” I asked. “He’s pretty well insulated there.”
“I know we can,” he said. “More importantly, I hate bullies.”
I did, too.
If there was a way for me to march myself into that prison, slit his throat, and walk out, I’d have done it by now.
