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)
Until later the next morning when everything fell apart again.
19
Jarrod
I was a normal guy for a night.
It felt good to tell Cora all that about my family. I held so much of it locked away inside and barely ever spoke about my parents. I never told anyone about Uncle Bernard and Robyn, mostly because I was afraid of what the bastard would do if he ever found out, but Cora deserved the truth.
And I deserved to get some shit for being such a bastard for so long.
Robyn never asked me to protect her. I did it back then because I wanted to, and I still did it because my cousin didn’t deserve her abusive father. But that wasn’t an excuse to treat her like trash in public.
I’d have to fix that.
Hell, I had a lot of atoning to do.
Though I wasn’t sure why I wanted to.
Cora was right. Something had changed ever since she and I started all this. My constant need for pain and blood had diminished to nearly nothing, and I found that I could vent most of that on the football field. I didn’t know if it would last forever, but my life was easier without that dark side of me.
It was like I was a regular guy.
Maybe Cora did that to me.
I wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or not, but I was willing to give it a try.
I felt decent the next day instead of hungover and aching from bruises and cuts from multiple different fights like I normally felt after an Addler party. I got a decent night’s sleep and even enjoyed hanging out with my cousin for once. I made coffee and began to mentally prep myself for Saturday football practice when the doorbell rang.
I frowned at the clock. It was barely after ten in the morning. Nobody ever came to our house this early on the weekend, and I could already hear Uncle Bernard grumbling in the hallway, probably ready to tell me to fuck off for something I hadn’t done. He opened the front door and the surprise in his voice was obvious, but I couldn’t tell who was there.
I drifted into the hallway then froze.
The woman standing out front was thin with dark hair and dark skin. She wore a casual business outfit, not flashy or expensive, but practical and comfortable. She seemed tired, with dark bags under her eyes, and she flashed a badge at Uncle Bernard before spotting me and pointing.
Uncle Bernard looked over his shoulder then waved me over.
I approached, my heart racing.
“This is Detective…” He trailed off, frowning.
“Bates,” she supplied with a smile. “Detective Bates.”
“She’s here to talk with you.” He looked at me like, what the fuck did you do now?
“I don’t know what a police detective would want with me.” I had to play it cool. There was no way she had anything on me, not with how careful I’d been.
“Just some routine questions pertaining to a case we’re investigating. Would you mind stepping outside so we can talk in private?” She spoke like this was no big thing, smooth and easy, with a smarmy smile.
Uncle Bernard ate it up. “I’m sure he’ll help however you need, right, Jarrod?”
“Of course, Detective.” I moved past my uncle and joined Bates out on the front porch.
Uncle Bernard glared at me then closed the door.
I drifted over toward the railing. I wanted to put space between us and whoever was on the other side of that door, no doubt trying to listen. Probably Aunt Genni with a glass pressed to her ear.
“How’s it going, Jarrod?” Detective Bates asked, joining me at the railing. “I’m sorry to bother you so early on a weekend.”
“Must be important if they have you doing overtime like this.”
She snorted and shook her head. “Overtime, my ass. It’s only a few little questions, if you don’t mind.”
“Happy to help.”
She took out her phone and held it up. “I’m going to record this if that’s okay? Helps with my notes.”
“That’s fine.”
She hit start. “Detective Lynn Bates interviewing Jarrod Hale.” She made a face like it was stupid and official sounding, but necessary. “So, Jarrod, you’re on the football team at Blackwoods, is that right?”
“That’s right. I play defense.”
“I hear you’re one hell of a linebacker. NFL scouts have been sniffing around you. I don’t think Blackwoods produces many professional players.”
“I try not to think about it.” Though it was true—there were scouts at every game these days.
“Must be pretty nice though. I bet everyone in this town knows who you are.”
“Might be.” I shrugged and refused to let my racing, wild heart get the best of me. I needed calm right now more than ever.
“Is that your truck over there?” She nodded toward where I was parked by the curb.
“That’s mine, yeah.”
“Pretty old and beat up. Distinctive, even.”