Cheryl Bradshaw - Sinnerman

I looked at Angela, “Be right back.”

I turned the knob on the door and peered out with my gun aimed and ready. But I wasn’t the only one. Sam lunged at me, knife in hand and slashed my arm. Blood sprayed out, and my gun crashed to the floor. Sam went for it, but I was ahead of him. I kicked his legs out from under him, and he tumbled to the floor. I recovered my gun and pressed it against his chest.

“Go ahead, do it,” he said. “It’s what you want to do. It’s what you’ve always wanted to do. I see that now.”

I wanted to fire my gun into his heartless body until no bullets remained—the time had come, I had my one wish in life. Sinnerman on the ground with me at the helm. Part of me wanted to squeeze the trigger, but instead I took my free hand and yanked the cuffs from my pocket.

“Put them on,” I said.

He sat there and stared at me, speechless.

“Do it!” I said.

He cinched them around his wrists, and I made a fist and hit him with everything I had inside me, again and again. Three years of fury expelled from my body. I released all of my pent up emotions on him and let the tears run free.

Blood oozed from Sam’s face and covered my hands until they were sheathed in red. A hand touched my shoulder and I swung around.

“That’s enough, cara mia.”

I looked up into familiar dark eyes.

“How did you find—”

“GPS sensor under your car.”

I looked down at Sam and aimed my gun at his heart. His body was still and lifeless.

“I need to do this, Giovanni. He has to pay.”

He shook his head and in a gentle manner reached for my hands and wiped some of the blood off with his sleeve.

“You found him just like you wanted. Killing him won’t make you feel any better. Trust me.”

I nodded.

“There’s another girl here.I need to help her.”

“Go take care of her,” he said. “I’ll stay with him.”

I walked toward Angela’s room. Sam raised his head off the ground and muttered, “Sloane, don’t leave me.”

Giovanni replied, “Looks like I just got her back. Deal with it.”

And then two shots fired, but I didn’t turn around. I didn’t have to; I knew it was all over.

CHAPTER 55

“Talk about your knight in shining armor,” Maddie said, with a wink.

“I guess you could call him that. But it’s over now. He’s done his good deed for me and now he can go back to his life.”

“That’s what you want?”

“Have you ever thought that might be what he wants?”

“Never crossed my mind. He’s smitten, there’s no denying that.”

“It’s hard to say where we’ll go from here,” I said. I’m not even sure how to go about it.”

We embraced and I stepped on the plane.

“Take good care of Boo for me,” I said. “See you both tomorrow.”

Maddie took Lord Berkeley’s paw and waved it up and down in the air. “Say goodbye to your mommy. Time for us two to have some fun.”

The warm breeze of Baltimore, Maryland drifted across my face like a warm blanket just out of the dryer as I descended the stairs of Giovanni’s private jet. It felt good to be free of bodyguards, Nick, and the plague Sinnerman inflicted on me over the past few years of my life. It felt like I’d carried the weight of the moon on my shoulders, and now I was so light I needed to brace myself against something so I didn’t get swept away into the air.

I rented a car and used my cell phone to map my location. Twenty-three miles later I arrived at my destination and parked in front of a powder blue single-wide trailer with what used to be white trim. Now it held a kind of brownish hue. The trailer looked like it had been moved more than its share of times in its lifetime.

The door was the color of a fire engine, except duller, and on one of the single-pane windows in the front someone had taken their finger and scratched the word HI in the caked up layer of dust. Grass had been planted in the yard at one time but had long since gone, leaving small patches of yellow about the size of a plate in its wake. A single car was parked out front; a purple Saturn sedan circa 1993 or so.

I ascended the two-by-four wood-planked stairs and knocked.

A woman with a face that resembled the back of my elbows answered the door in a tattered peach robe and long, stringy hair that practically reached out and begged me for a V05 hot oil treatment. The distinct smell of gin floated by and was absorbed into the atmosphere.

“Can’t you read?” she said and pointed to the sign that was hot glued to the door. “No solicitors. That means you missy.”

I spread out my fingers.

“Do you see me carrying anything?”

“Well, no.”

“What does that tell you then?” I said.

“You’ve got a sharp tongue, anyone ever tell you that?”

“Can we skip the small talk and get to why I’m here?” I said.

“Patience isn’t your strong suit, I guess.”

Not even one minute with the woman and I already wanted to wring her neck.

“Do you have a son named Sam—I mean, Samuel Reids?”

She looked like the ghost of her dearly departed grandmother had just appeared before her and said BOO.

“Has something happened—is he dead? Did he leave money for me in his will? I just knew that boy would grow up and still find a way to care for his mamma.”

She spread the door all the way open, smiled and said, “Won’t you please come in?”

Under any other circumstances I would have protested based on the smell alone, but I’d come all that way, and I wasn’t about to turn around now.

She reached down to the sofa and picked up a variety of plates, silverware and other items that were scattered around. “Sit, sit,” she said.

“I’m not here about his will.”

She scrunched up her face and frowned and said, “Oh, hmm. He hasn’t gone and gotten you pregnant has he, because if you all need a place to stay, it’s not here. There’s no room at the inn.”

A man emerged from the hallway with a stained yellow shirt that had endured more than its share of beer. His legs were almost all the way exposed except for a pair of boxer shorts, and his hair looked like it hadn’t been brushed for days. He passed by Laurel who stood next to the bar in the kitchen and smacked her on the ass.

“Why would he have wanted anything from you after what you put him through?” I said.

She flashed me a dirty look and said, “You did not just say that to me.”

“Who you talkin’ about?” the man said.

“Leave it alone, Larry,” Laurel said.

On a scale of one to leave it alone, I wasn’t about to let it go.

“I flew here to talk to you about your son, and no I’m not pregnant with his child and he doesn’t need a place to live. He’s dead.”

“My son’s what—”

Larry looked at Laurel and said, “You had a kid?”

Laurel turned to him.

“Yes…I mean no, I mean—I used to.”

“How in the hell did you used to have a kid?”

“It’s not what you think.”

“I don’t think nuthin’. I’m outta here,” he said. He walked out the door, got into the Saturn, and left.

“Guess he’s not going to get dressed first,” I said.

Laurel turned toward me.

“You’re ruining my life, just leave—please!”

I shook my head and laughed.

“It’s still all about you, isn’t it? After all these years. You just don’t get it. You sit here in your piece of shit trailer and don’t even have a clue what you’ve missed out on.”

“I’ve lived a full life.”

“Do you even care what your son did?”

“Should I?”

“Ever hear about the Sinnerman murders?” I said.