Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 97951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Nadia, you sleep tight. I have some responsibilities to tend to. Once he had his shoes on, he grabbed his duffle bag, now filled with his clothes from the evening before, and other odds and ends.
He crept towards the bedroom door, opening and closing it slowly behind him. Walking to the front door of the apartment he completed his silent exit. Once he was in his truck on the highway, he turned on some music at high volume: Shaboozey’s, ‘A Bar Song.’ Soon, he arrived at his first stop. The junkyard. He was in and out in ten minutes. Getting back in his truck, he arrived next at the thrift store he’d Googled. It wouldn’t open for another five minutes. He took that time to reach for his Daniel Defense H9 in the glove compartment.
Setting it on his side, he patted it like he would an old friend, then tucked it out of sight. He clenched his teeth until his jaw ached, although the music provided a little distraction to the dark mood he was falling in bed with.
An employee unlocked the front door of the thrift shop. Just as he was about to get out of the truck, his phone rang. Ignoring it, he made his way inside the store. He was back out in four minutes. Getting back in his truck, he turned the music up high. He pulled onto the street and headed to the highway. Just then, his phone rang again. He glanced at the caller ID on the Bluetooth dashboard of his truck, expecting it to be Nadia ready to lay into him about sneaking off, but much to his surprise, it wasn’t.
He turned off the music, then pressed the ‘Answer Call’ button.
“Hello…”
“Jesus.” Silva exhaled loudly on the other end. He could hear what sounded like the outdoors. Birds. Wind. Even a wind chime. Perhaps she was standing on her deck with a cup of coffee. That was how I imagined her anyway.
“Mornin’, Len. This is my second time tryna reach you this morning. I had hoped you were still an early bird.”
“I am. I don’t sleep much. Mornin’, baby sis.”
“Yeah… so, uh, I’ve had some time to think, and that thinkin’ got me to thinkin’ some more. You should remember how I am when somethin’ don’t sit right in my spirit. Keeps me up until I get to the bottom of it.”
“Well, baby sis, to be honest wit’ cha, I wish you’d felt that way about mendin’ our relationship, but it seems I was the exception. You know what?” He laughed and waved his hand. “I’ll refrain from attackin’ you… I’m just still a lil’ riled up is all. I missed you. You called. That’s all that matters.”
“I understand your position. I get why you feel the way you do. I imagine I’d feel much the same way and though you may not think I deserve it, I would like for you to give me a moment here. I’m still processing this shit. I’ve been down a rabbit hole and can’t see the forest for the damn trees. So I don’t want to get sidetracked, alright? I got somethin’ to say, if you’ll allow it.”
“Mmmm hmmm. Go on ’head.”
“By the way, I haven’t smoked in years. I’m on my third cig since we spoke. Stole it from Tony’s stash.”
“I reckon your nerves are in a knot.” He casually switched to the fast lane.
“Somethin’ like that. I called off work today. Said I was sick. Tony’s at work, and I’m home alone. It’s for the best because I don’t want to have to explain this mess to him. At least not while I’m tryna get my own hands around it. Look, uh… things are pretty fucked up.”
“Indeed they motherfuckin’ are… Hold on… I’m behind some slow fuck. MOVE!” He honked his horn at someone in a Corolla in the fast lane going forty miles per hour.
“I meant what I said about your horrible attitude, Lennox, and your road rage right now shows you still got it in ya.” She chuckled. “But regardless of all of that, I still owe you a big apology. You were right. I took Grandpa’s word at face value, not believing he had any reason to lie to me, when he had everything to lie about accordin’ to that there letter. I’ve read the letter several times. The one you said Grandpa sent you… did a little exploration, too.
“Initially, I was tryna convince myself that you wrote it yourself. A scheme of yours. Then I realized that’s not even your style, and the letter is written out just how Grandpa speaks when I’d hear him on the phone with Daddy. I’m a ‘details’ girl. I notice stuff like that—but I guess it took Captain Obvious to make me see what was right in front of my damn face.”