Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 55912 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 280(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55912 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 280(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
“You do love her,” Simone says.
“Yeah.” I croak. “More than anything. More than I can understand. It’s been tearing her up, sneaking around behind your back, and…”
“And her thinking all those stories I made up were true. Thinking we were together.”
I sigh. “Yeah, and that.”
“I’ll need to tell her the truth. God help me. I’ll need to tell myself the truth. I’m not making any sense to you, am I? I want to pray, but I can’t pray. That’s the contradiction in this whole thing. I’m a joke, a joke…”
“You can’t beat yourself up,” I tell her.
“I failed my daughter for years. We were living in hell.”
“You brought her out of it. You found The Answer. You found me.”
“Then I brought her right back into hell because I got drunk and acted like an idiot.”
“People make mistakes,” I growl. “Maybe you’ve made more than you’d like, but you can’t do a damn thing about it now. All you can do is to be the best mother possible when you get out of here. After that, be the best grandmother possible. Just think of that, Simone.”
She’s crying again. I’m getting choked up, too. It’s all this sitting around, not doing anything, not taking action. The last time I pounded on the door, the guard threatened to throw in tear gas. What then?
“You’ll have a grandchild, a little boy or girl. They’re going to be so happy to meet you. You’re going to be in a great position when they get here. You’ll be healthy, motivated, and happy. Your and Lena’s relationship will be stronger than ever. You’ll see.”
Simone whimpers when, from the far end of the cellblock, somebody lets out a scream of pain. I’ve heard different kinds of yells, shouts, and screams in my life, and this is agony, pure and simple. Simone starts crying again.
I crawl across the cell and reach out. “Where are you?”
“H-here.”
I find her hand and hold it gently. “I love your daughter,” I tell her. “More than life itself. One day, Simone, as strange as it might be, you’ll be my mother-in-law. I’m going to protect you.”
“Th-thank you,” she whispers.
“Think of the future. Think of happier days.” The screaming gets louder. “Think about your little grandson or granddaughter.”
Simone squeezes my hand tightly. At least she admitted we’d never been in a relationship, not that it will matter if we can’t get out of here alive.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Lena
I pull up outside the butcher’s, heart thudding, wondering what my plan is. The place is called Cuts, and the front looks closed. I drive around the back, wondering if this is all pointless. Maybe Mom and Jamie are out in the forest. No, my mind needs to shut up. I can’t imagine that darkness.
There’s a light—a basement light, leading to a door. I swallow. The street is quiet. The city will wake up soon. It’s eerie as I climb from the car and walk across the parking lot. I expect somebody to jump out any second.
Walking down the basement steps, I remember walking into the warehouse as a teenager. I remember all the muggings, the insults, the bullying. I remember the fights. I got sucker punched once, knocked out. I’m that woman. I’m that Lena. The suburbs haven’t softened me. Love hasn’t softened me. I meant what I told my man. I have to be strong, too.
I knock on the metal door, cold against my fist. There’s a panel in it. It slides aside. A man laughs gruffly. “Lost, little lady?”
I need to pretend I know why I’m here. I know what this is. Whatever else is true about these people, they value money. Maybe it’s all they value. I’m dressed cheaply, but wealthy people often do. It’s the attitude that sells it.
Taking the ticket from my pocket, I hold it up and wave it as if I’m above all this. I act like Demon so often does, nose upturned. If I die out here, what happens to him? No, they’ll check Jamie’s apartment. The message on Joan’s machine will lead them there.
“I’m here to see the meat,” I tell him. “I hope you have some prime cuts available. I’ve got something very specific in mind.”
“Give that here,” the man says suspiciously.
I hand the card through the slot. He slams it shut, leaving me to wait. I don’t fidget or show any signs of awkwardness. There’s a chance that he’s watching me right now. Maybe there’s a camera somewhere. I stand up straight, borderline bored.
The slot opens. “Apologies, miss. You’re not our usual clientele.”
“My desires are my own,” I say, playing some haughty sadist. “So…”
“Yes, yes.”
He opens the metal door, gesturing into a small room resembling a storage closet. The man wears a balaclava, only his eyes showing. He sits on a metal chair and folds one leg over the other. “Are you looking for anything in particular?”