Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 129460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
We learned the other week that was why Jack’s real name was in our grandfather’s file. It was a simple mishap made by a rookie officer. When Marissa called to organize for Jack to speak with the detectives leading the case, the woman jotted down his name on a Post-it note.
It was never meant to make its way into the file.
Fate put it there.
“I wonder how Jess got all these men to be open and honest?” Tears glisten in her eyes as she murmurs, “Not everyone has the skills to get through to people.” Her eyes lift to my face. “Not everyone is like you.”
I swallow the bile surging up my throat before replying, “She encourages honesty by giving it.” It dawns on me that more of what Santiago said today sunk in than I realized when I say, “Jess was raised believing victims of sexual assault have nothing to be ashamed of, that they deserve the same love and respect as everyone else.”
“They do,” Octavia agrees without pause for thought. “And anyone who thinks differently is an idiot.”
Although her comment is for Jack, it hits home for me as well.
I’ve lived with my shame for years.
I’ve kept it hidden from everyone—even the people I love.
That needs to stop.
“Tiv, I need to tell—”
Our eyes dart in sync to my cell phone when it vibrates on the coffee table. Octavia’s return to mine when her snooping ass catches sight of the name flashing up on the screen. “Is that Jess?”
She knows who it is. Jess’s name is on the screen. She just wants me to spill the beans I’ve kept from her nowhere near as long as the rest of my secrets.
The situation shifts from tense to easygoing when I admit, “She texted me earlier today.”
I only stop to take a breather, but the pause is too much for Octavia. “And?”
With my mind still partly locked down from my near confession, I say, “And we agreed to talk tonight.”
The last word barely leaves my mouth when Octavia leaps up from the couch, snatches my phone off the coffee table, then shoves it in my face. “Then answer it. It’s nighttime here.”
“We’re talking—”
“We can talk later.” She wiggles on the spot like she’s busting to use the bathroom while wordlessly encouraging me to take Jess’s call.
I do, but instead of putting it on speaker phone as per Octavia’s silent demand, I pivot to face away from her before saying down the line, “Hey, can I call you back in a sec?”
“Ahh…” Jess muffles her phone before she eventually says, “Sure. Do you know when that may be?”
“No.” My short reply reeks of suspicion because she sounds evasive, and I fucking hate it. “Do you need it to be a particular time?”
“Y-yeah. If that’s okay?” A whoosh sounds down the line before she says more affirmatively. “Yes. If you can’t call me back before seven, it will need to wait until tomorrow. I’m… busy.”
I calculate the time difference, and when I realize I have thirty minutes before being left hanging for twelve-plus hours, I say, “Then I guess we better talk now.”
When silence is the only noise projecting down the line for almost a minute, I ask, “Was there a particular reason you called?”
I assume her father got to her before me but am proven wrong when she replies, “You asked if you could call me, remember?”
“Yeah, but you called me.”
She stabs a knife in my gut when she snaps out, “Because I’m going to be busy later.” It isn’t a mortal stab wound when she adds, “And I didn’t want to miss your call.” My chuckle is hardly audible, but Jess groans as if it is a boisterous laugh. “Whatever, Caleb. You’re an asshole.”
The past three months of torment seem like a walk in the park when I reply, “Never denied it, Jessie.”
There is a tenseness in the air that should never be squashed, but Jess gives a shot a few seconds later. “Keira was assaulted in a sex club similar to the one Silas wanted to take Octavia to. Jack has been seeking an elusive ticket for weeks now, but he isn’t close to getting one.” I’m lost as to why she is telling me this until she says, “Giving him one would be a great way to get Octavia and Jack in the same room again. I think that is all it will take for Jack to pull his head out of his ass.”
Although I agree with her, there is a snag in her plan. “I don’t have that ticket anymore.”
“Yes, you do,” Jess denies, her words cracking out of her mouth like a whip. “You hoard everything, including the seven hundred and fifty-nine receipts for the meal kits you had delivered to my home every week. Lou found them in the roof space after you left. He thought he was clearing out the wrong apartment.”