Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76272 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76272 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
I was blindsided. Nothing I said or did changed her mind. Shortly after that, she transferred to Princeton and I never saw her again. In a matter of weeks, she went from being the love of my life to a ghost, a painful memory.
“How? What happened to her?”
“Car accident…Her husband called me.”
“What did he say?”
Every word of that letter is forever seared in my mind. “He said she left a letter with her lawyer to be sent in the event of her demise…” The exact word the lawyer used. “I don’t think she ever imaged it would be at thirty-three.”
“I always liked her.”
My gaze flickers over to find Brenda’s rapt attention on me. She was the only one I ever told about Beth.
“She apologized. Said she loved me and hoped I was doing well. She said she never had any intention of leaving me but the family threatened her…”
Jumping off the couch, I walk to the wall of windows that overlooks the Pacific, watch the sun melt into the horizon and leave behind a wake of color. Built on a bluff, this house has the best view in Pebble Beach that money can buy. The entire structure is modern, the furniture large and sparse. All of it meant to showcase the beauty of the environment.
“She said she was offered a hundred thousand to leave or face charges.” My skin feels like it’s going to split open and reveal every emotion I’ve ever had.
I came here for one reason only, to get answers from my grandfather and the old bastard is in the fucking Caribbean getting his pole shined by a soft porn wannabe.
“I thought it was Dad at first, but he hasn’t given a hot shit about me since I was conceived so it has to be Grandpa.”
The frustration I’ve been feeling since I opened Beth’s letter boils over and actual fucking tears fill my eyes. The one person that ever really cared about me and he had to ruin it.
Back against the glass pane, I slide down to the floor, legs weak, a feeling of powerlessness coming over me.
“He thinks he can play me, mess with my life, and get away with it. That I’m just a pawn…”
“It wasn’t Grandpa,” I hear a few minutes later. I glance up into my mother’s face. Her bright blue eyes the same exact shade as mine are filled with sympathy.
“What?”
“Grandpa didn’t threaten her.” She sits up straighter, snatches the half-empty glass off the coffee table and downs what’s left of the wine.
That piece of shit. “Dad…” Anger, raw and ugly, rises up in me.
“No…it was me. I offered her the money.”
The sound vibrates through the air and reaches me but I can’t make sense of it. It can’t be possible. “You paid Beth? You did?”
Brenda nods, looks off, her fingers nervously pulling at the fringes of the blanket on her lap. “I thought…I thought it was just a phase for her, you know. A thrill. And you…you were so emotionally needy. So young and lost. She played you Dallas. Not Grandpa. Not me. Beth was old enough and smart enough to know that you were a very fragile young man––and a rich one to boot.”
“You?” I’m in so much shock I can’t even form a sentence. It’s hard to breathe. It feels like the walls are closing in on me. “But I thought you…” I suck in a deep, ragged breath that sears my lungs. “You made me believe you were cool with it! That you thought it was all romantic and shit!”
“I was trying to do the right thing,” comes out a quiet whimper.
“You fucking selfish bitch! You’ve never done anything to please anyone but yourself!”
Standing, I freeze in place because I’m so angry right now I may do something I’ll regret for the rest of my life. “You were the only one I trusted…”
Tears stream down her face. She wipes them away, swallowing hard what is probably a fuck load of guilt. I hope she chokes on it.
“You people are so toxic…”
I force myself to move, to head for the door. I can’t stay here another minute. Happy fucking Thanksgiving.
Chapter Nine
Dora
Thanksgiving came and went. As usual, nothing much happened except that I had to keep kicking Sasha under the table while she was interrogated by Chief Ramos about the Theta party. First, it was whether the fire marshal was called for overcrowding. Then, did we observe any illicit drug use. Blah, blah, blah. The man is always on the job. The answers were yes and yes, but naturally we kept our traps shut.
My errant thoughts immediately run to the Cat Woman costume. If my parents ever saw me in that getup, I am one hundred percent certain they would both stroke out.
“This seat’s taken,” I hear the guy who’s seated next to me in English Lit. say.