Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 63139 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63139 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
“Here’s hoping.” I nod. “I wouldn’t mind coming from a less dicky family.”
“This is a waste of time!” Becky spins on her heel. “It’s like talking to a dog.”
“I hope you don’t talk to dogs, Becky, that would be weird,” I call after her as she storms out.
“Good chat,” I say to myself, finishing up my stir fry so I can sit down and eat it in silence.
That silence doesn’t last long; the second I relax on the sofa, the front door bursts open and my dad comes charging in, followed by Bradley.
“What the hell are we going to do, Dad?” Bradley yells, his face red and frantic.
“I don’t fucking know, Bradley. I don’t fucking know. You need to let me think.”
“If they find out, if they know it was us ...”
“I said let me think,” my father roars.
I jerk in my chair, eyes wide. What the hell are they talking about that has them so wound up? I can’t help but sneak closer to hear more of the conversation. It’s intriguing and I’m curious to know what it is they’re getting so upset about.
“It’ll destroy us, we’ll go away for life. If this comes out, Dad ...”
“I said I need a fucking second, Bradley,” my father roars. “You’re in my fucking space. Give me one damned second.”
“Someone put our name on their radar, how the fuck did that happen?” Brad goes on.
“I don’t know, someone spoke up, and I’m going to find out who that someone is and fucking bury them. This will destroy me. Do you understand that, son?”
“I know, Dad. We need to figure this out, we don’t have time to mess around.”
Jesus, this sounds ... intense.
“When everyone is asleep tonight, go into that basement and you clean it. You clean it like it has never been fucking cleaned before. I want not a single thing left.”
“It has been done, Dad,” Brad growls.
“Do it again, do it until your fucking hands bleed. If there is so much as one piece of evidence in there ...”
Wait? What?
What evidence?
My heart is racing as I listen in closer—I’ve never heard them talk like this before. I’ve heard them discuss business dealings and people double crossing them, but this sounds like a whole different scenario. This sounds ... god, it sounds like they’ve murdered someone. I hear shuffling so I move quickly, rushing back to the living room and turning up the television. A minute later, Dad walks in.
“How long have you been down here?”
“What?” I yell over the sound. “When did you get home?”
He looks relieved.
“Turn that down, Gabriella,” he barks.
I press mute. “What’s the problem, Father?”
“I might have a change of plans soon, something for you to plant on those bikers.”
I blink, slowly. “Like what?”
“None of your business, just keep it in mind. I’ll need you on your best game.”
I don’t answer him.
“Are we fucking clear?”
“Yes, boss,” I mutter.
He turns and walks out, slamming his office door when he reaches it. I exhale and the entire time my movie is playing, I’m thinking about that basement. When Brad goes out to get some pizza, I make my move. This will be the only time I can go and have a look to see what’s in there. I’m curious, but you know what they say about curiosity killing cats ... Either way, I have to know.
I pretend to go off to bed, and, after a few minutes, I slowly sneak out of my room, closing the door behind me. I make my way down the hall, past the kitchen, toward the back of the house to the basement door. Our basement is set at the farthest end of the house and, honestly, you barely know it exists because the living areas are up on the other end. It kind of just owns the space down there.
The basement isn’t somewhere I go—hell, I haven’t been down there since I was a kid. It was always dark and gloomy and Dad would always tell us not to play in there. I just hated it. He kept it locked for years, telling us there were important documents and items in there he didn’t want us to mess with. I never questioned it, but now I’m wondering if I should have. Was he hiding something down there?
I reach the door and find the key hanging on a hook beside the door. This is only a new thing, mostly because Dad emptied the basement probably a year or so ago, and when he did, the padlocks went with it. Now it’s a free for all, but I can’t help wondering why the hell he had it padlocked for so long. A sick feeling swirls around in my stomach.
I push the door open carefully.
I go down the stairs and it smells super clean in here; gone is the musty, damp smell it used to have when I was younger. I don’t turn the light on, instead I use my flashlight on my phone, not wanting to draw attention. I walk in, flashing my light around. Mostly, it’s empty. There is some old furniture stacked up at one end, some boxes beside it and a few old antiques but otherwise, it’s one big, open space.