Redemption by Eden Winters Read Free Book Online

hands, palms splayed. “Wasn’t gonna.”
    Good. He’d hate to hurt her.
    “I don’t promise to not use it against you whenever I need blackmail material.” She danced out of the way of Lucky’s swat. Damned short-assed T-Rex arms.
    A pile of packed boxes formed in the living room, marked to take to Lucky’s, and larger items, like Bo’s bed, landed in a rented storage unit.
    The toy he’d take to the house. When Johnson wasn’t looking.
    “Oh, now, I like this.” Johnson pulled a photo out of a drawer of a much younger Bo, baby-faced and in uniform.
    Lucky snatched the picture from her hand. “I’ll take that. And any more you find.” He rummaged through the drawer. Other pictures showed the man in uniform, with a smiling woman and a sullen teen who looked enough like Bo to be his younger brother. Must be the aunt who’d raised him.
    Bo mentioned patching things up with their families one day. Lucky flipped through a few more photos and found one of two young boys, one unmistakably Bo, with a woman and a man. Had to be his parents. The man, woman, and Bo smiled. The younger boy had his lip poked out.
    Bo had his mother’s smile, eyes, and dark hair. The man and boy had reddish curls. The mother who’d died and the father who’d turned out to be an abusive asshole. Lucky picked out a few pictures to take to the house, the rest he shoved into a box. If Bo wanted to see them again, the pictures or the people, Lucky would be there.
    ***
    “I’m sorry, sir. Mr. Schollenberger isn’t taking visitors right now.”
    Lucky placed a Starbucks cup of green tea on the desk. “I thought I’d been cleared to see him.”
    The receptionist glanced up and down empty halls, leaned across her desk, and whispered, “He’s kinda had a bad day.”
    Damn. “Will you at least give him this?” Lucky pushed the tea forward.
    “I will.”
    Lucky took slow steps back to his car, hoping for a “Wait! Stop!” that never came.
    His ten text messages went unanswered.
    ***
    Holy fuck! What would Bo say about the blood? He’d have Lucky’s hide for messing up the house.
    Blood covered the comforter, the floor, even oozed from the walls. Where could Lucky hide the dead body? Bo should be home soon! He’d have a fit over the mess.
    Lucky charged into the living room. What to do? What to do?
    Bo stood in the middle of the room, lips bloodless, eyes staring.
    No, he didn’t stand—he hung.
    Lucky screamed.
    ***
    Lucky shot upright out of the bed. The cat scrambled out of the room, hissing. Fuck. Not again. Much more and snap! Goodbye mind.
    He stepped over boxes into the kitchen. Six a.m. Hell, he might as well make coffee. More boxes sat on the counter. He pushed them out of the way of the coffeepot. Bo’s stuff. But no Bo.
    If Bo were there, he’d hold Lucky, tell him everything would be okay. Not that Lucky wanted a hug right now. Not really. Oh hell, who was he kidding? Bo. He needed Bo…
    …who’d tell him to talk to Walter. Damn it. Too fucking early now.
    Telling Walter about the nightmares would make everything real. Others would find out, forcing Lucky to face the music.
    But he’d kill a dozen guys to save Bo. And he’d sure as hell pull the trigger on Stephan Mangiardi and not lose a moment of sleep.
    Where was the bastard? Was he coming after Lucky? Were Mexican henchmen planning to take out Bo?
    Fuck. Lucky might never sleep again.

Chapter Five
    “Boss, I need to talk to you.” Yeah, might be better to wait until 4:30 on a Friday, have his talk with Walter, and haul ass after his coworkers fled the building. But something had to give before Lucky lost his ever-loving mind. Three weeks’ worth of nightmares and pretending things were fine when he visited Bo left him desperate.
    “Have a seat. Would you like coffee?” Someone had cleared enough room on one of Walter’s cabinets to put a fancy one-cup coffee pot. “I have decaf around here if I can find it.” Walter dug through a desk drawer and