Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 75642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
I stand and walk around to the far side of the clubhouse, keeping my back to the building because I don’t want anyone in their rooms down here to look out and think I’m spying. I’d go to the garage, but I know several of the guys are in there working on a couple of bikes. I don’t need witnesses to my grief.
“Found?” I manage, having to clear my throat twice before I’m capable of squeaking out my next question. “Murder/suicide?”
It doesn’t make sense. Carlen and Janet adored each other. They’ve been together since high school, if not junior high. They have two adorable little boys. My heart threatens to break, thinking about their kids.
“The boys?”
“The boys are fine, Mr. Chilton. Janet and Carlen were found shot in their car near Benton Park West.”
“Impossible,” I argue.
The Clarkes live in an upper middle-class neighborhood and would never risk their safety in one of the worst neighborhoods St. Louis has to offer.
I don’t know when I started pacing, but my feet have carried me past the end of the building, the glistening pool now in my line of sight. Just past the pool are Kincaid’s and Shadow’s, the club vice president, houses. To the far left of those is the field I imagine Kincaid will tell the others they can plant their corn field. It’s also where preparations have begun for Devyn and Legacy’s wedding, which will happen in the next week.
“You were listed as Carlen’s next of kin, Mr. Chilton. I just wanted to call and inform you of what’s happened. The funeral will be…”
At some point, I stop hearing him, wave after wave of guilt and regret taking precedence inside of me.
The call ends, but it happens long before I pull the thing from the side of my face. I feel numb.
I don’t know that I could’ve prevented what happened to them. I don’t know exactly what I could’ve done to keep them safe, but I know not seeing them for three years and not speaking to Carlen for a year hasn’t helped. I was busy. They were busy. Everyone could argue using this excuse, but the man listed me as his next of kin. He deserved better than what he got from me.
“What’s wrong?”
I jerk my head up, seeing Kincaid standing a few feet away.
I know I don’t explain very well, but somehow Kincaid translates the information I tell him accurately enough.
“I’ll have Max make travel arrangements,” he says. “You’ll need to pack. I’ll let you know when your plane leaves.”
He doesn’t grill me about how a mother and father of two end up dead in a terrible neighborhood. Although his mind might have gone straight to them getting tangled up in something they shouldn’t have like mine did, he doesn’t voice that opinion. There aren’t many people on the earth, despite their bad choices, who deserve to end up the way my friends have.
I nod, pausing when he claps me on the back as I turn to walk away. I’m seconds away from losing my shit.
“You got this, Stormy. Go get packed. I’ll handle the rest.”
Chapter 2
Mila
I press my back to the door, keeping my eyes squeezed closed. I’ve cried enough tears to drown a dolphin, but there’s always more to be shed.
I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be standing in the entryway of my sister’s home. I haven’t wanted to be here for more than a year, but it isn’t a silly argument this time that’s making me want to turn around and run.
It’s weird being in this house without them, knowing they’ll never walk through the front door again.
Dead.
Murdered.
The cop who delivered that tragic news seemed annoyed that they had to tell anyone at all. What’s two more dead people in the wrong neighborhood? It was a patrol officer, assuring me that a detective would be reaching out soon, but I hadn’t heard from anyone. Calling the police department didn’t yield much info either, other than the detective assigned to the case letting me know he was going to want to go through the house to look for clues about what could’ve possibly led a middle-class couple to Benton Park West. The tone of his voice suggested that he believed Carlen and Janet weren’t the most law-abiding people, but he rushed me off the phone before I could assure him that they were.
I haven’t spoken to my sister in over a year, and now I can’t even recall the reason for the fight that kept us apart for so long. Had we known that today would happen, that three days ago she and her husband would be dead, I doubt I would’ve let a day go by where I didn’t reach out to her.
I open my eyes, tears swelling on my bottom lashes for the briefest of moments before they make a well-traveled trail down my cheeks.