Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 57337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 287(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 287(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
“Okay.” He thought for a minute, rubbing his own scruffy chin. Pot, meet kettle. But I kept that thought to myself.
“Hops said this guy had a gun. You saw it? Could you identify it?”
“Yeah, I saw it. It was a handgun, black. I didn’t get a great view of it, but it resembled what you see on TV, like what cops and feds always carry.”
“Okay.” He was nodding, thinking to himself. “So, go back to last year for a minute. After he followed you down here, do you know where he was staying? You didn’t leave as soon as he showed himself then, so I figure you didn’t feel totally at risk, right? Or am I missing something?”
Gah! There were so many parts to this whole story, and I wasn’t sure how best to tell it. I was starting to get tired and frustrated with this whole thing. But having gone this far, I knew the best thing to do would be to just keep barreling through, and give Jack every detail he needed. I felt like Hillary Clinton at the Benghazi hearings.
“You’re right, I didn’t leave. I couldn’t think where else to go, and he’d followed me this far, I figured there was no getting rid of him by running, and I just hoped I’d convince him of my complete disinterest and rejection better if I stayed. So I stayed. It might not have been the best move, but I liked it here, and I didn’t come up with any other better plan.
“Can we move along to another thing now? There’s another part of this that figures in, that I haven’t told you about yet. But you should know.”
“Jesus. This is like a fucking novel.” Jack shook his head.
“I know, right? I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. Get it out. Tell.” He shifted onto the couch, put his arm around me, and pulled me into his side, getting us both more comfortable for the next part of the download.
“So…Brian’s a hacker or something, right? I’m pretty sure he hacked into my email, because after I broke things off with him, my grandmother died. Like, a few weeks later. It was a year ago this month.”
“Sorry for your loss, Ellie.”
“No, don’t—it’s okay, we weren’t close. I didn’t even know her, really. She and my mom—they fell out years ago, when I was a baby. Well, probably long before I was born. But they cut off contact with each other when I was a baby, so I have no memory of ever meeting her. I only really learned about her last year, when Mom got the call about her death. Mom told me, and we figured we should go to the funeral, be respectful. Ha. Well, I wanted to be respectful; Mom wanted to dance on her grave. I think half the reason I went was to stop Mom from doing something crazy like that.
“My mom is…eccentric. Total seventies’ hippie, you know? Earth woman, dances around bonfires, drum circles, big beads.”
Jack started laughing. “I think I got that picture. And let me guess, your grandma, she’d have been a woman of the fifties, right? Conservative…?”
“Exactly. Anglican church, sweater sets, pearl necklace. The whole nine yards. They were oil and water.”
“That was why they didn’t talk?”
“I think the thing that really broke it between them was me. Mom was way into free love, you know? I didn’t grow up with a dad, but I had a lot of loving uncles. Still do. They’re awesome. But I didn’t grow up in a typical nuclear family situation. My grandmother hated my mother for that, not being willing to name a father on my birth certificate, not marrying, not being respectful, not going to church, et cetera, et cetera.”
“Got it. So what’s this all have to do with Brian?”
“Getting to that. Turns out, Grandma is loaded. Or really nicely well-off. Family money, East Coast richies—think, like that movie, Philadelphia Story? That old one, with Cary Grant and Katherine Hepburn, you know it?”
“Babe. Not into old movies like that. But I can follow your plot. So who inherits all this fabulous wealth? Your mom?—No. It’s you. Yeah?”
“Yeah, but only on condition. This is classic. You ready? I have to be married for six months before I get the money. And if I turn twenty-eight still single, the money goes to charities, and I get none of it. Which I would be totally fine with—really—except that now, with Peter and all of his medical bills coming in the future, I just think—I wish…” I lost words.
Jack was serious now. “I see what you mean. I get that. I totally do. You need that money, you’re right. You really need that money.”
“Yeah, but here’s the kicker. I’m pretty sure—and I have no idea how, other than that he hacked his way into my email to see the stuff my grandmother’s lawyer sent me—Brian knows about the trust and the marriage requirement. And I think that’s why he’s latched on to this idea that he wants me. I think it’s why he was stalking me.”