Mason Sharpe Thriller 02-Take Down by Ryles Logan

Author:Ryles, Logan [Ryles, Logan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Suspense, American Suspense, Action Thriller, Crime Thriller, Adventure, Criminal Investigation, Georgia
Publisher: Inkubator Books
Published: 2023-01-18T05:00:00+00:00

31

There was a drugstore built into the bottom of a high-rise not far from the Sheraton. I stepped inside and bought a comb and scissors, then returned to my hotel room and cut my hair in front of the mirror. It wasn’t a professional job—far from it. But with a little work I looked like one of those hipsters who keeps disheveled hair as a style choice.

Then I showered again, enjoying the cleanest bathroom I’d used in months. The hot water soothed my shoulder, which was still aching from the impact of the brass knuckles outside of Greenville. I remembered what Feldon had said about Anthony having family there and wondered if the three guys who jumped me at the gas station were members of that family.

That tracked, anyway. If an SAS boss had burned Anthony, it was reasonable to assume that same boss had called in the anonymous tip to the Greenville cops the night Anthony was arrested.

Which meant the whole thing had been a setup from the start, not a cover-up.

I toweled off and dressed, then sat on the bed and stared at my battered hands. The fight at the gas station was the first I’d lost in a while—and only because I’d let somebody sneak up on me. It made me question my mental edge and what other mistakes I might be making.

I knew I was depressed. I’d been depressed for months, and had good reason to be. But it was more than the loss of my beautiful fiancée, or the complete upending of the life I had built in Arizona. It was something deeper. The tragedies in Phoenix had only served to trigger an identity crisis. Without the Army, without the police department, and without Mia…I found myself with no better identity than what I had given Anthony and Feldon.

I’m just a guy.

I looked into the reflection of the blackened TV and saw black bags under my eyes from too many nights spent barely sleeping. I saw tousled hair that would have made the Army freak.

I saw disheveled clothes that the PPD would never have tolerated.

Turning to the duffel bag next to the bed, I sifted through dirty clothes and reached for the violin, but my fingers touched Mia’s Bible instead. It was small, only about six inches tall, bound in brown leather with her name printed in gold.

I lifted it out and traced the edges of the battered cover. The Bible had sustained more abuse in the six months following her death than in the entirety of Mia’s ownership. I’d done my best to take care of it, storing it amid my socks, but never once reading it.

I wasn’t much on religion. I never had been. Mia was the first religious person I ever met who didn’t feel fake and contrived. She used to say she wasn’t a religious person at all, but a person of faith.

Whatever that meant.

I thumbed the cover open and flicked through the thin pages. They crinkled as they turned, and I recognized some of the book titles as they passed.

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