Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 112449 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 562(@200wpm)___ 450(@250wpm)___ 375(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112449 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 562(@200wpm)___ 450(@250wpm)___ 375(@300wpm)
I tore down a picture of a kookaburra. It was a laughing jackass. I could hear it mocking me.
“Tick ticking tock, Rainey.” I ripped off a string. “Why is nothing as it seems?”
The map of Bedlam fell as confetti on my feet.
“To die is my birthright, de Souza. But to die ripping out a piece of your soul, that is my honor! Did you get what you wanted, Cavendish? Were you honored?!”
I screamed, raking my nails down the pictures, articles, and letters, losing a few in the process.
Gathering it all up, I tossed it in the wastebin, struck a match, and set it on fire.
Fire was the best way to end something. With this being the last time I’d sit in this cheap room and read another black letter, the send-off had to be appropriate.
Face soaked and eyes puffy, I packed the little I had and carried it out to the bus stop. Frankie rolled through with the 99 bus twenty minutes later.
“Rainey, love, are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I replied as I got on.
“It’s all this terribleness on the news, isn’t it? Uh, what is this town coming to?”
I sat close to her, resting my bags in the seats. It was just me and Frankie. No one had reasons to drive out to de Souza Farm these days. No one except me.
“An innocent man burned alive for the entertainment of naked, hooting jackals, then some sweet girl snatched off the street in broad daylight. A friend of mine is talking about sending her daughters to that boarding school a couple of hours away, Epsilon Academy. Breaks her heart to be apart from them, but it’s not safe in Bedlam these days. Mind you, when was it ever safe in Bedlam?”
Frankie spent entire rides in silence. Passengers preferred to be on their phones than talk to her. The result was she talked the ear off of anyone that would listen. That ear was mine and she was welcome to it. If she was talking, I didn’t have to.
“That young woman, Jennifer, I think her name is. She said someone rescued her,” Frankie continued on. “No doubt about it, she didn’t get out of a locked freezer bound and gagged on her own, but you have to ask why they didn’t stick around? They’re a hero. Why not receive your deserved praise?”
“What’s your theory?” I asked, wiping my face on my sleeve.
“I think the person who put her in there had a change of heart. Couldn’t go through with it, so he let her out and ran. The coward couldn’t face her when he attacked. He couldn’t face releasing her either.”
“Do ruthless psychopaths change their minds? Suddenly grow a conscience?”
She snorted. “My cheating bastard of an ex-husband didn’t when he emptied our bank account and ran off with my yoga instructor, so I’m betting not.”
I almost cracked a smile. I’d been hearing about that cheating bastard since the day he skipped out. Three months and he still managed to come up with new ways to torture Frankie. The latest was dodging child support while at the same time sobbing to their friends and family he had to leave because Frankie stopped loving him years ago. I guess we all have a monster in our lives.
“I’m going to miss this, Frankie,” I admitted. “There’s not a lot of people you can have a good bitch session with.”
“Any time, love, but what do you mean you’ll miss it? You going somewhere?”
I nodded. “I decided to move back to the farm.”
“Move back? Why? You got the motel in town so you’d be closer to the university. No one wants to wake up at six in the morning to ride around in this dusty old heap with me.”
“You’re the only company I’d want at six in the morning, Frankie. I told you, you’re one of the few people I can talk to.”
“Aw. You’re such a sweet girl, Rainey. Your grandmother would be proud of you.”
I dropped my gaze. “She wouldn’t.”
“I say she would.” She twisted in her seat, giving me a firm look. “Abigail was one of my closest friends. She’d ride with me those days that old clunker gave her trouble, and always gifted me a bag of peaches like it was part of the fare. After I finished my route, the two of us would grab a beer and I’d listen to her brag about her beautiful, talented granddaughters. If she could see you two now, her heart would burst with pride.”
Tears fell with every word. “I didn’t know you guys were so close.”
“Oh yeah,” she said, a tinge wistful. “You three were pretty tucked away, working sunup to sundown keeping the farm going, but your gran got out every now and then. For a good ole bitch session.”
I laughed. “Did she tell you about the goat?”