Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 88248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Throwing the last of my clothes into the small suitcase, I zip it up, then sit on my bed, which is parallel to Sierra’s. “Yep.”
“Thought you were all ‘I’m focusing on school, not boys’?” She tilts her head to the side and her chin juts out, something she always does when she’s in confrontation mode. These days, Sierra has two modes when it comes to me: She’s either mad at me, or she’s ignoring me. Both allow her to keep me at arm’s length.
“I’m riding up with him. That’s it.” I roll my eyes and stand, grabbing my suitcase and setting it next to the door. “And I only agreed to ride with him after he mentioned how much shit my sister was talking about me having to ride with her and her friends.” I glare at her briefly before I grab my book and drop to my bed to read.
When she doesn’t say anything, I glance up. Her face appears pained. I wonder if maybe she’ll apologize, tell me she was wrong and then cuddle up next to me like we used to do when we were little after we got into one of our stupid fights. But she schools her expression and shrugs. “Imani was annoyed Tashia wouldn’t be able to ride with us. I wasn’t talking shit…”
“Yeah, okay,” I say, knowing she’s full of shit. “Well, now she can.” I open my book to the page I left off on and lie back against the pillows on my bed.
“So, you’re not going to hook up with Brenton?” she asks.
“Nope,” I say, without giving her my attention even though I’m not really reading. Her bed squeaks and then her feet pad across the floor, and when I chance a glance, I notice she’s gone. Groaning, I drop the book to my chest and close my eyes, wishing for the millionth time I could figure out how to get her back. Maybe Mom will have an answer…
“Here?” Brenton asks, stopping his vehicle in front of the wrought iron gate.
“Yes. I’ll only be a few minutes.” Giving him a small smile, I get out of his car and meander through the rows of headstones until I get to the one I’m looking for.
Rachel Jacobs
Loving mother and wife
She only has two titles because my sister and I, and our father was all she had in this life. She didn’t know much about her family, but what she did know, what foster care told her, was that she was created out of wedlock and her mother was a part of the Catholic Church. Her family forced her to give up my mother, who proceeded to spend her next seventeen years in group homes. She met our dad when she was seventeen. He was older, already in his thirties. He offered her a home and she took it. I’m not sure if she loved my father or if she loved the idea of being taken care of.
What I do know is that my father loved her deeply. So deeply it turned into an obsession. An obsession that ultimately killed her…
“We’re leaving,” my mom says with tears pouring down her face. “Pack your bags. We don’t have much time. Just take whatever clothes you need and anything that’s important to you.”
“Mom, what’s wrong?” Sierra jumps up from her bed and runs over to our mom. “What’s going on?”
“Your father,” Mom chokes out through her sobs. “He’s a liar! He’s lost all our money. Lost our house. He’s lost everything. We have nothing left.”
Sierra and I have heard our parents arguing the last few months more and more, but we just assumed they were going through a rough patch.
“Can’t he get it back?” I ask, confused. “Dad’s the best at what he does.”
“No, he can’t. Because he made deals with the wrong people and they took it all. And now they’re going to come for us.”
“What about Grandma?” Sierra asks. “Can’t she help?”
“Sure, she could, but you know she hates that your father is with me. She’ll never give him a penny to help. She’d rather watch him fall. Now, please. Pack your bags.”
Ten minutes later, Sierra and I are sitting in the back seat with our bags in the trunk, waiting for Mom to come out. Dad’s BMW pulls up, just as Mom walks out.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Dad demands.
“I’m leaving! I’m taking the girls and getting out of here! I’m not going to just sit here and wait for them to come and kill us.”
“I told you I’d protect you!” When Mom doesn’t stop in her haste toward the car, Dad reaches behind him, pulling out a gun.
“Oh my God!” Sierra gasps. “Dad has a gun!”
“Greg, please!” Mom begs. “Don’t do this. Just let us go.”
“You’re not taking them! You’re not leaving me. We’re in this together. Now get in the damn car!”