Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 88215 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88215 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“The baby…it was yours, wasn’t it?”
I nod again, unable to say the words out loud. I reach into my wallet and hand Frankie the blood-soaked letter I found at Morgan’s house under her body.
Frankie unfolds it slowly like it’s something delicate that can be broken easily and not a creased piece of torn notebook paper. Her lips move as she reads it to herself. I don’t even have to carry it with me anymore. I’ve read it a thousand times. I know exactly what it says, having memorized every word.
You,
I don’t know why I’m writing this since I expect you back soon. I guess I’m writing it more to myself since I’ll probably see you before I can give this to you. But just in case I can’t find the words, this will be my backup.
You should know that I look like I’ve swallowed the entire Golden West buffet, but I love it. I love being pregnant. Truth is that I’ve always wanted to be a mum. For the first time in a long time, I’m excited about what the future will bring, and this child of ours is the best reason I could ever have to start a new life.
I’m leaving this life. I’m going someplace safe where I can raise this most beautiful and welcome mistake. I’ve got some money saved. I’m going to leave the state and buy a house somewhere in the suburbs on a tree lined street in a town with more than one stop-light. Who knows, maybe I’ll be one of those suburban mums who wears tennis skirts every day but don’t play a lick of tennis. You know, the kind who brag about the tech in their new mini vans and who complain about the misspelling of their names on their coffee cups at Starbucks. Of course, mine will be a teacup. I am British after all.
In all seriousness, I find myself very ready for this new adventure. A new challenge. You know me, I can do just fine on my own. I’ve been doing it my entire life. However, you can be a part of this is you want. I don’t expect or want us to be an actual couple. You and I are far too realistic for something like that. But we can be good friends and attempt to be good parents. At the very least, better than either of us had. Although that bar has been set pretty low as it is.
Whatever you decide is fine with me. Just know that there’s no halfway. Not with this. I won’t risk it. I can’t. You have to be out of the life to be in our lives.
I’ll give you some time to think about it. It’s only fair since I’ve had months to ponder all of this, and you’re just now finding out. You’re probably still doing that angry eyebrow thing you do when you’re thinking over something. I’m quite sure of it. Don’t give yourself wrinkles, old man. If you decide to come with us, I’m sure the two of us will give you our own fair share.
-Me
Frankie
“Holy shit,” I say, piecing together the connection between the security video Nine and I found and the story Smoke is telling me. My heart breaks for him. For Morgan. I feel a depth of despair I’ve never felt before and an overwhelming need to take it away from his heavy eyes. I sniffle and get my tears under control.
“This right here,” Smoke says, taking the letter from my hands and folding it back up. He tucks it into his back pocket. “It’s why nothing changes.”
“I still don’t understand the connection. What does this letter have to do with me? With my father?”
Smoke walks over to his duffle bag and pulls out a photo which he pushes into my hands.
It’s a black and white still image from the same bloody surveillance footage Nine and I found. Same date and time stamp in the upper right corner.
“Oh my fucking god,” I gasp, holding my hand over my mouth. I don’t have to pretend to be shocked even though I’ve seen it before. It’s just as gruesome now as it was the first time.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” I say, holding my churning stomach.
“Your old man didn’t just steal from Griff. He stole from me,” Smoke points to the corner of the image.
This picture is different than the one I found with Nine. The background is the same. The body is the same. The blood is the same. But the man in this image is a very different man than the one from the video. There’s no hat with black stripe. It’s a different man all together.
Someone had tampered with the image. One of them is fake.
And when I recognize the man in the image, I know immediately which one.