Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 101398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
“She’s saying I’m not the biological father,” I choke out somehow, causing another round of gasps that suck almost all the air out of the station.
Breezy, though, she doesn’t even blink. “Is that right? Well, I guess it’s a good thing we did a DNA test before Bennett ever left the state with her, then.”
“You have DNA?” the lawyer bumbles, an instant fool.
“Yes,” my sister declares. “We have DNA, a signed affidavit swearing the money was not a bribe, and a signed transfer of full rights to Bennett for Summer. I don’t know what you think you have, but you don’t have jack shit.”
“You signed an affidavit?” the lawyer questions Jessica, his eyes widening in incredulity.
“I signed a lot of things, but I was coerced!” Jessica wails at the top of her lungs.
“Exactly!” Thomas shouts, and Breezy turns on him like a mama bear.
“You stay out of this!”
I chuckle without humor. “He’s having a hard time staying out of it because he’s the one who convinced Jess to come. Right?”
Thomas and Jess are both silent for a long moment, and Eleanor sees fit to fill it. “This is preposterous. Sheriff! This is all lies, every bit of it!”
Josie guffaws. “Don’t act like you’re innocent, mother. You’ve had your hand in all of it.”
“Listen, folks, from what I’m hearing, Bennett is free to go,” Sheriff Pete interjects, coming toward me to take the cuffs off. “If there’s anything else to be settled, I suggest you file suit with the appropriate court.”
“This is bullshit,” Jessica cries, pointing at Thomas. “You said I could get more money! That’s the whole damn reason I even came!”
Her lawyer, mind you, is already packing up his briefcase.
I shake my head at her antics and run my tongue against my teeth as Sheriff Peeler frees me. I rub at my sore wrists lightly. The only thing that keeps me from regretting ever knowing Jessica is the daughter I got out of it.
“The money’s gone, Jess,” I say as simply as I can manage. “All that’s left is the daughter you never wanted. The daughter I would give anything to keep. So, I suggest you go back to wherever you’ve been because the only place you’re going in the company of this guy is prison.”
The entire time she’s been here, not once has she asked to see Summer. Not one single fucking time. She has no idea what her daughter has been through. She has no idea that Summer’s life is hanging by a thread. She doesn’t know and she doesn’t care, and the tragedy of that scenario makes me thankful my daughter has a lived a life without this woman.
Thankful that the only maternal figure she’s experienced in her life is Norah.
I seek out Norah, ignoring the bullshit Eleanor and Thomas are still spewing into the air. She’s standing there, her shoulders sagging, her mouth set in a firm line of discomfort.
She looks destroyed, and I hate myself for it. Hate myself for what I pulled her into. For what I asked her to do. But I can’t change any of it. The only thing I can do is get the hell out of here and go to the one place I need to be. The one place I should’ve never been forced to leave—Summer’s bedside.
I step through the crowd. “Pete, I’m leaving.”
He doesn’t stop me. “Okay, Ben.”
“I’ll drive you,” Clay offers, already pulling his keys out of his pocket and heading toward the exit door.
Norah can’t look me in the eye as I approach, and my chest burns with the loss of her trust. I stop in front of her, lowering my voice to a whisper. “I knew it wasn’t fair, what I was asking you to do. I knew it would damn near ruin you.” Her eyes shoot up to mine. “But I did it anyway.”
“I know.”
God, I don’t deserve her. I never did.
Norah watches me silently as I leave with Clay, but I don’t look back. Because time is a thief, and the chunk of it I’ve spent here at the station has already taken more than enough that I won’t get back.
Thursday, September 2nd
Bennett
Music comes softly from the radio in the corner, the sounds of Summer’s favorite station playing the oldies of the fifties, sixties, and seventies. Her hand is limp in mine, but I hold it securely enough for the both of us.
She hasn’t stirred at all since before I left for the police station yesterday, and I know that means it’s almost time. Her sweet body is tired, and I have to let it rest, no matter how desperate I am for more days, weeks, years.
“I love you so much, my little Summblebee.” I lean my head to her hand and squeeze my tired red eyes shut against the overwhelming pain the sound her labored breathing brings. “I don’t want to be without you.”