Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 94546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
I didn’t lie during my testimony. The minutes leading up to the assault are a blurred mess of confusion, and something I look forward to forgetting—once Jack is released from custody.
“He should have been out by now. Perhaps call Fitz again.”
“I’ve called Fitz. Numerous times. He’s not taking my calls,” Caleb answers, miffed.
“Then try Morris.” I sound desperate. Rightfully so. I am.
Caleb stands to his feet, then gathers our empty mugs from the coffee table. “Can’t. I don’t have his number. That guy is a ghost. He only whizzes in when trouble is occurring.”
“That is exactly why you should call him! Something isn’t right, Caleb. I can feel it in my bones.” The tremor that arrives with my words makes me feel ill. I want to vomit, but I hold back the urge when it fills Caleb’s eyes with worries.
“Tiv—”
“I’m fine. I am just…” I rub my tired eyes with the back of my hand before breathing out, “Tired. Lost. Certain he’s never going to speak to me again.” Once again, that shouldn’t be my first concern, but I’d be a liar if I said it hasn’t been playing on my mind the past couple of hours. “I asked to see him after I gave my testimony to the DA. She said she’d check.” My hair falls into my face when I dishearteningly shake my head. “She never gave me an answer.”
“That could mean anything—”
“It means he doesn’t want to see me.”
Since he can’t deny the honesty of my reply, Caleb remains quiet. It adds to the tension depriving the air of oxygen.
After several painfully long seconds, Caleb nudges his head to my room. “How about you call it a night. You haven’t slept since Friday, and that would have only been for a couple of hours at most.” When my brows furrow, shocked he noticed my sleeping routine, he mutters, “You groan every time you roll over. I stopped counting your flips when I reached a hundred.”
When he plucks me from my chair, his tug strong enough for my feet to leave the floor, I whine like a child. “I don’t want to go to bed. I won’t sleep. I’m too worked up.”
“Even if you don’t sleep, you’ll be more comfortable in your bed where you can stretch out.” He continues forcefully walking me until I’m under the covers and wrapped like a burrito. It was how his mother always wrapped us when we were children. She said it was our safety cocoon. I’ve often wondered if she knew back then that something wasn’t right with our grandfather. She kept clear of him, and Caleb only ever attended one service. “You good?” When I nod, Caleb smiles before nudging his head to my open bedroom door. “I’ll be just on the other side if you need me.”
He waits for me to jerk up my chin again before he hesitantly leaves my room. I doubt he will get much sleep tonight. He’s as worked up as me. Viewing Jack’s burns and scars in the evidence file we found while cleaning out my grandfather’s residence three years ago was horrific enough, but it is nothing on witnessing them firsthand.
The ridicule from locals the years following my grandfather’s arrest and subsequent suicide was bad enough but knowing how much of a monster he was, was more than we could bear. That file Silas stole is the very reason we moved to Seattle.
My grandfather tortured Jack, but Silas’s unhanded admittance of a crime means he isn’t the only one responsible for Jack’s abuse. Silas was an adult during parts of my grandfather’s horrible reign, so he must take responsibility for the part he played, even more so since he continues to torment Jack about it almost two decades later.
With a sigh, I roll over to face the only window in my bedroom. While staring out at the starless sky, I ponder Jack’s mental state. Many decisions Caleb and I have made over the past ten years have been based on our grandfather’s actions, so I can only imagine Jack’s decision process.
I have no intention of sleeping, but as the minutes slowly tick to hours, my eyelids grow weary. I fight off sleep for almost three hours before it eventually pulls me under.
When I wake, my alarm clock is hollering, and my head is thumping.
It’s Monday, and I’m late for work.
I dress in a hurry and use my fingers as a brush instead of the wired one sitting on my bedside table before entering the kitchen hot on Caleb’s tail.
“Tivy…” Caleb doesn’t say any more. He doesn’t need to. His expression is telling enough. He thinks I’m a fool for believing I have a job, much less attending it today.
“I’ll do more good being there than moping around here.” I grab a protein bar out of the pantry before spinning around to face him. “Jack’s employee contracts are very strict, but there’s no harm making sure they’re upheld. It’s the least I can do after what I shared yesterday.”