Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 74457 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74457 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
“I don’t think so. Just try to be patient. She’ll probably be over here a lot.”
“That’s okay, so long as when she leaves, you’re all mine.”
I kissed him, slow and deep. “I’m always yours.”
“That’s right, little freak.”
“You’re still calling me that?”
“Only because you love it.” He grabbed my hair and pulled.
God, it hurt, and it felt good.
He was right.
I really did love it.
Epilogue: Robyn
One Year Later
Dad’s sentencing was a nightmare.
Local reporters camped outside the courtroom and ambushed my mother and me as we approached the steps. The guy was a portly jerk with a camera, a microphone, and an ugly smile.
“Are you proud that your father murdered a pedophile?”
“Did your father kill Dr. Silver because of his involvement with children?”
“Will the judge be lenient because your father murdered such a heinous man?”
We pushed past them and went inside. The courthouse was big and spacious, a glass-walled mausoleum. Men and women in suits walked around with purpose, carrying briefcases and file folders, while bored-looking security guards lounged around near the metal detectors.
Mom didn’t say much. She hadn’t said much since Dad went to prison. There was no trial—Dad took a plea bargain, despite maintaining his innocence the whole time. The hearing was a formality, and I only showed up for my mother, who insisted on going.
We knew he was going to jail for at least ten years.
I led Mom into the courtroom. She sat down and clutched her purse against her chest. Her eyes were red and puffy from lack of sleep.
She didn’t cry anymore.
I didn’t either. I wasn’t sad Dad was going to prison—I only wished he were going away for the right reasons.
They brought Dad out in cuffs and prison browns. He smiled at me and Mom, and I didn’t smile back. I thought of Jarrod and Cora back in their trailer, drifting through their days in bliss, while Dad was stuck behind cold concrete walls.
He deserved it. But he didn’t kill Dr. Silver.
Cora never came out and said it. Jarrod never exactly admitted it either, but I knew. They were the ones who murdered that pedophile asshole, and I wasn’t sad about it.
The only thing I regretted was that the world would never know why my father deserved to be in prison.
He’d also gained something of a reputation. People liked the story of a local man taking the law into his own hands and punishing the guilty. Not everyone, of course—but some people online started calling him the Pedophile Killer, and it started to stick in the local media.
I hated those people. Dad didn’t deserve it.
He looked like hell. Skinny, pallid. Slightly yellow. He sat bent over, glaring at the table.
The judge sentenced him to ten years as expected.
Mom turned her back on him as they led him away.
I watched my father go and knew I might never see him again. He was young enough and could survive prison for ten years, but I didn’t think I’d ever go see him when he got out. I certainly wouldn’t visit him there.
Mom slumped against me as I led her into the hallway.
“That was hard,” she said softly, staring ahead with a faraway gaze.
I wanted to feel bad for her, but it was tough.
She enabled my father’s abuse by not doing anything about it.
“It’s over now. Dad’s going away.”
She nodded and put on a weak smile. “Ten years isn’t so long.”
Ten years would wipe her out and bleed her dry.
I didn’t want to go back outside. The reporters would be there again with their questions, and I hated them. I hated everyone.
I was never a bitter person. Even when my father used to whip my back bloody with his belt, I didn’t resent the world. I did my best to see the good everywhere.
I was angry now.
Jarrod talked about justice. He talked about people getting what they deserved.
There was no justice in this world.
I stopped walking. Up ahead, standing near the elevators, was a lone person leaning against the wall. He wore a slim suit, navy blue, with a perfect shirt and tie. His eyes met mine and a strange smile quirked his lips.
Calvin Solar. What the hell was he doing here?
“Do you mind if I talk to Calvin for a second, Mom?”
She looked up, blinked, and shrugged. “Go ahead. I could use the ladies’ room before we go.”
“Thanks.”
She disengaged herself and walked off.
Calvin came to me then, his eyes locked on me, like a shark drifting toward a school of unsuspecting fish.
I’d known Calvin for years. He’d been friends with Jarrod, and of all the Horsemen, he was the least objectionable. He never joined in on their taunting and teasing at least, and even sometimes spoke up for me. I never understood why.
Until six months ago, the letters started.
“What are you doing here?”
“I knew your father was getting sentenced today. I thought it might be difficult for you.”