Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
“Every few months, I cleaned it out. I had the password, and other than spam, I’m the only one who ever sends messages to it.” He held the phone up and stared in a daze at the screen. “Every time I go in to wipe the history, I intend to delete the account. But I can’t. The messages I’m writing are dangerous and stupid, but I can’t stop. I couldn’t…”
His spine tingled. “Dangerous how?”
“I’ve told her everything over the years. Every time a miserable goddamn thing happens in my life, I write it in an email to her. Every tragedy, every victory… Every secret.”
“What secrets?” Luke stopped breathing, seeing the writing on the walls.
“Our secrets.” Tomas met his eyes, his face bloodless. “I told her about Van and everything before and after.”
“Like a journal.” Vera touched her throat. “You write to her as if composing your thoughts in a diary.”
“Diaries are forbidden in our business.” Luke couldn’t stop the ire from leaking into his voice. “No incriminating evidence. You know the rules, Tomas.”
“Yeah. I fucking know, Luke.” Tomas bared his teeth. “I always email her from a fake account and also… She. Is. Dead!”
“Do you use your real name in the signature? When you end each message?”
“Just Tommy.”
“What about locations, events, missions? Other names, like Matias? Mine? Did you include any of that in your love notes?”
“Yes.”
“Goddammit!” Luke seethed.
“The night before we came here, I sent an email from a new untraceable account, stating it was my last message. I intended to delete her account the moment we returned. I was finally prepared to move on.”
“What happened?”
Tomas handed over the phone and paced away, gripping the back of his neck.
Luke woke the device, and an email app filled the screen. It showed the inbox of Tomas’ fake account, which had one single message. A correspondence with Tommysgirl.
Oh, fuck, Tomas. What have you done?
He opened the email and read the initial message. It confirmed that Tomas had composed a short, incisive goodbye to Tommysgirl.
Knowing the cartel monitored every transmission, Luke was relieved to see nothing in the text that could condemn their operation.
“Did you log in to the Tommysgirl account from this device?” Luke asked.
“No, I’m not a fucking moron.”
But there was a problem, and it stared back like a ghost from the grave.
Someone had responded to Tomas’ goodbye email.
His pulse exploded as he opened it.
Tommy,
Please, don’t stop messaging me. I’ve been reading your emails for ten years, anticipating and living each and every one. I’m sorry I never responded, but I didn’t know what to say. At first, I felt terrible for logging into this account. I found the login information in the pocket of a coat that I bought at a thrift store.
I shouldn’t have logged in, but investigation is my job. After your first few messages, I knew the account belonged to someone you lost. A girl you loved.
You grieved so painfully in every email you wrote I couldn’t ignore it. You loved her deeply, and I felt it deeply. I’ll be honest, I envied her. To be on the receiving end of such devotion… I wanted to be her.
But I remained silent. I listened and looked for signs of self-danger in your words.
Then your messages stopped. For ten weeks, I thought I lost you.
Until you wrote again.
You changed. After everything that happened to you during those weeks, you became so cold and angry. You needed an ear, someone to hear your story and watch over you. I was here for you, even when you thought you were alone.
Over the years, I felt your continuous evolution and adaptation to the dangers around you.
I know you better than you know yourself. I’ve heard every feeling and thought you sent. You needed this outlet. A place to share your thoughts without judgment or consequence. And through it all, I realized I needed it, too.
Please, don’t end this. I know you don’t know me. But I need to see you. I’ve been sitting on your emails for so long, worrying about your safety and telling no one.
I’m still worried.
I’m on the good side of the law, Tommy, and I sense you spiraling. You’re trying to do the right thing, but you’ve gone too far.
Meet me in one week. I know you have the means to fly home. Your childhood house is still abandoned. I’ll be there at sunset on Saturday.
Come alone.
“Fucking fantastic.” Luke passed the phone to Vera, his nerves strung like a live wire. “Assuming she’s a she, does she know where you are now? That you’re here on a mission that involves the Mexican cartel?”
“Some of it, yes. I wrote about gearing up for this operation.” Tomas set his hands on his hips, his posture challenging and angry. “I’ll handle it.”
“Yeah, you’ll fucking handle it.” He strode toward his friend and lowered his voice. “She knows who we are, what we do, and every crime we’ve committed.”