The Butcher of the Bay Part II - J. Bree Page 0,97
done for me, I’d never leave her in the lurch. Not ever.
“What’s going on, kid?”
She huffs down the line. “Matteo found out I finally inducted someone. He’s in a jealous rage. I know… I know seeing him again is going to be fucked up but I need some backup. Do you think you’re up for it?”
I shift Odie off of my chest and onto the bed without waking her, and roll out of the bed lithely. “Of course. I told you before, you call and I’ll be there.”
She’s doing me a favor really.
He’s the last person left on my list to die for her.
For my baby girl.
“I’ll meet you at the docks with him. I’m bringing… my guy.”
Well, fuck me sideways. Her guy? Did she finally find someone worth messing around with? “Sure. I’ll skin the two-faced, treacherous little fuck alive if he touches a hair on your head, kid.”
She grunts and hangs up, and I stare down at Odie again.
Time to go to war.
Acknowledgments
First and foremost a huge thank you to my bestie and PA Laura Frazier, without whom none of my books would be possible because I flail about like a muppet without her. Thank you for being my biggest supporter and the besets, most cutthroat friend. I love you!
To Katy, for being the most amazing friend and for all of your support while I moan about how hard words are. I’ll always be so grateful for having you in my life, I love you!
To Sloane for all of your help and support while I cried on zoom about the dangers of writing prequels, thank you for putting up with me while I was at my worst!
To Cassie, for our sprinting that got me over the line and our suicide pacts that got me through. You didn’t judge me in my raw form and I still loved you without adequate naps. We’re here, we’re queer, and we want to disappear.
To Kenia for always being up for a late night chat and for your translation help over both parts of the Butcher, thank you and I love you!
And to all of my readers, thank you for loving my books and hanging out with me in the Bay. I can’t wait to share more of this world with you <3
Author Bio
J Bree is a dreamer, writer, mother, farmer, and cat-wrangler. The order of priorities changes daily.
She lives on a small farm in a tiny rural town in Australia that no one has ever heard of. She spends her days dreaming about all of her book boyfriends, listening to her partner moan about how the wine grapes are growing, and being a snack bitch to her two kids.
If you want to know when J’s next book will come out, please visit her website at http://www.jbreeauthor.com, and sign up for the newsletter or find her on Facebook at J Bree Author.
Also by J Bree
The Mounts Bay Saga
The Butcher Duet
The Butcher of the Bay Part I
The Butcher of the Bay: Part II
Hannaford Prep
Just Drop Out: Hannaford Prep Year One
Make Your Move: Hannaford Prep Year Two
Play the Game: Hannaford Prep Year Three
To the End: Hannaford Prep Year Four
Coming 2020
The Queen Crow Trilogy
All Hail
CONTINUE READING FOR AN EXCEPT FROM
Just Drop Out
Hannaford Prep Year One
Available now on Kindle Unlimited
Prologue
The forest at the edge of Mounts Bay, California, city limits are well known for being haunted.
The kids at the local high school have spent generations whispering about the bodies buried in shallow graves, waiting for the wolves to scent them and dig them up for food. There’re even more legends about the souls that walk amongst the towering redwoods. It’s quiet, not silent, but compared to the ever-present sounds of traffic and humanity
it’s eerie and adds to the haunted feel.
While I don’t believe in ghosts, I can feel the souls that linger here.
It’s probably just my guilty conscience giving me the heebie-jeebies as I look over the corpse of my opponent. His blood is still fresh on my hands, cold and congealed, and I wipe them uselessly down my jeans. My clothes are just as stained as my hands, even my face is spattered with the red stains of his life ending. I look like something out of a horror movie, which is about right considering I’ve just bashed a man’s skull in with a rock while a whole crowd of people looked on in sick fascination. There isn’t a person watching that dares to make a noise. The vise-like grip of the Club holds their tongues.
I’m not afraid of being caught.
I’m small for my age. Years of food insecurity have taken their toll, and I was the youngest contender in the Game this season. None of that matters though; I’ve won. I’ve beaten thirty men and teenage boys to take the victory and the spoils of this war.
I stumble toward the men at the perimeter of the fighting ring. They’re all cloaked in black, hard looks on their faces and black ink etched over their cheeks. My hands tremble at the thought of wearing those same marks. The marks of the Twelve. But I’ve earned them. I’ve earned the right to stand with them and be one of them.
To be free.
“Congratulations, you’ve won the Game,” the Jackal speaks, and I shiver at the cold tone of his voice, so unlike the warmth he usually extends to me.
I nod my head. I want this over with. I want a hot meal and an even hotter shower.
“Welcome to the Twelve. You’re replacing the Hawk. Who do you choose to be?”
Free. I guess a hawk is a good embodiment of freedom, but it feels strange to take a dead man's name, like climbing into his bed with the sheets still warm. I look around at the other men that make up the Twelve. Their names are what they’re known as on the streets, what their gangs cover themselves with as protection and a warning. I could have that too. I could make myself a queen of my own empire. I could rule the streets and never go hungry again.
I could escape the cycle of poverty my mother has left me in.
My eyes land back on the Jackal, and I lift my chin until I no longer feel like I’m looking up at him.
“I am the Wolf.”