Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 70429 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70429 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
“I was the one known for the awful temper, beating everyone up. I was skinny back then, but strong as hell. It was all of that craziness and rage inside of me… You were the quiet one. The one that made bombs in science class and showed us how to do it too, on the low low. You got straight A’s, then turned around and got an F—F standin’ for fuckin’ fuckers up on the daily. You stole supplies. You did shit in the shadows. They tested your IQ and found out you were a fucking genius. You didn’t even tell us. Mrs. Florence did. She said you got the highest score outta all of us. 146. Mensa material. You were always lurking, you weird ass mothafucka. But you were one of us, through and through. We had fuckin’ orgies in the mud. Drove stolen cars along the backroads and in the holler. You, me, and Axel were and are The Brother Disciples. Mrs. Florence gave us that name. We are the Devil’s spawns and God’s favorite cold case. Unsolved mysteries—but not forgotten. We smoked weed until we believed in aliens. You and Axel popped some ecstasy and were so horny one night off that shit, you tried to slide a sixty-five-year-old woman your number, and you were a kid.
“We went fishin’ in the dark and howled at the moon. Dreamt big but only lived for today because we were convinced we’d die young. You’re cut from the same, blood-drenched cloth as the rest of us, city boy. You can’t fool me, Caspian; I see through you. I walked around blind most of my life after my trust was broken, but now, I see clearly. I see evil… So speak yo’ speech, nigga. What is your secret? What did you promise Mrs. Florence, mothafucka?”
Their food came right then, steaming hot on beautiful platters. Legend threw on a grin as they were served up. Caspian’s heart beat damn near out of his chest. Only Legend and Axel had that sort of power over him. They knew the real him. No one else walking the planet did. And no one else ever would, if he had any say-so.
He placed his napkin over his lap and thanked the waitress who refilled his drink.
He could feel Legend staring at him as he cut into his food.
“Legend, when I was a child, I went to a psychiatrist after my mother committed suicide. My aunt sent me.” He sliced into his pork chop, slipped a small piece into his mouth and relished the tenderness. Cooked to perfection, it practically melted on his tongue. “They aren’t allowed to give children certain diagnoses, but she was convinced I had a severe mental disorder, and it would only get worse if I didn’t receive some sort of serious intervention. My aunt didn’t believe her. Said that I had been through something traumatic, but I was now in a loving home. And I was. My aunt’s husband, Uncle Bobby, was her high school sweetheart. For the most part, he was nice. They’d broken up for a couple of years before getting back together, and in that interim, and she had a brief marriage with another guy. Her first marriage. She had a child with him, my cousin. He also was nice. Noah. He and I got along for the most part and still do, as you know. But, something broke inside of me the day it finally hit me that my mother was truly dead, and never coming back. I stopped talking for a long time. No one was listening to me anyway.”
He shrugged, placed another piece of meat into his mouth, and chewed slowly.
“This is excellent, by the way. My praises to the cook. Anyway, sometimes things just break, don’t they, Legend? And there ain’t no amount of glue, tape, or love that can put it back together again. I ’spose Axel was the most normal outta the three of us, the least messed up. Maybe that’s why Mrs. Florence came to him first. What do you think about that theory?” he asked around a mouthful of food.
Legend held his fork in one hand and a knife in the other, a blank expression on his face.
“Well, Legend, I’ll answer my own question since you won’t. I think that’s why—because, well, you would fight her. You were too far gone. She knew she had to get you mentally straight first before she could get you to listen and truly see what was going on. Get ya sober. Your mind clear. Only Axel or me would be able to help you do that. You trusted absolutely no one. I was in Georgia, so Axel it was. She knew he’d be the voice of reason. He’d also be the most receptive to her dreams. Axel likes to please people—at least, the ones he loves. He wants to feel needed, to fix bad things.