Total pages in book: 260
Estimated words: 245483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1227(@200wpm)___ 982(@250wpm)___ 818(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 245483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1227(@200wpm)___ 982(@250wpm)___ 818(@300wpm)
“It was all right. Slept off the beer and snuck out before she got up,” I tell him.
“Snuck out?” He lets out a chuckle, a smile growing on his face. “I know I keep saying it,” he starts, “but I missed you, man. We all missed you.”
At that remark, my thoughts run back to Kat. Reed must know it because he tells me, “She missed you. Trust me, man, she missed you.”
I stopped by her bedroom door at the crack of fucking dawn this morning and thought about pushing it open, but I didn’t.
Reed left his keys to the truck on the kitchen table. I drove it to get a few things I needed, texted Reed I’d meet him here at the garage and waited and waited. He only lives a few houses down and I thought about heading to his place instead; I couldn’t fucking stand to stay inside the garage. Being there when it’s empty and ghosts linger in every room, was more than I could take. So I stayed in the truck, waiting for his ass to get here.
I’ve never felt so fucking out of place in my life.
As our boots crunch on the gravel, he passes me one of the two cups of coffee from the corner shop. It’s cheap, like it’s always been, but hot. “You and Kat talk last night?”
“No.”
“You sleep all right?”
Nodding, I comment, “Pretty good,” which doesn’t do it justice.
For the first time in years, there were no lights shining in my eyes in the middle of the night. No fights. No screaming. Nobody losing his shit from being behind bars. It was the best sleep I’ve had since I went away. Only way it could have been better is if Kat was in the bed with me.
We go up to the third floor, past the garage on the first, then the rec room on the second where my life ended four years ago.
The office is different. It’s still shabby in the same way, with secondhand office furniture and filing cabinets, but it’s not quite like I recall. Reed takes a seat in an old office chair behind one of the desks and I take the leather sofa across from him that I don’t remember from before. At least one thing has been updated.
The garage doesn’t open for another thirty minutes, so we’ve got time to kill.
“What’s it like with my uncle being in charge now?” I remember back in the day when he and my dad would go at it.
Reed’s thumb taps on the armrest, a telltale sign that’s always given away when he’s anxious.
“If I’m honest, I miss your pops.”
He died while I was in prison. I didn’t get to attend his funeral, and it’s one of my bigger regrets. I should have been there for that. Instead, I was in a cramped cell reading a warden-approved paperback book about metalworking.
“And things are still unsettled?”
“It’s more about the leadership now.” Reed rubs a hand over his face. “Duncan Tray, that prick from up north, tried to step in and negotiate with our contracts … so when your uncle insisted on voting for change, we went with it at first.”
“At first?” I hate that fucker Duncan with everything in me. When I was locked away, I know he paid people on the inside to fuck with me. He’s lucky he’s still breathing.
“Some of the members want to move into a bigger space and expand the operation. And others want to stay where we are, with what we have.”
“What do you think?”
Reed searches my eyes for a moment before telling me he’s one of the few who doesn’t feel comfortable expanding. “Your uncle wants to, though, and he hasn’t dropped it. It’s just … we’re heading past the territories we have agreements with.”
He’s tense, barely moving other than the nervous tap of his thumb. “The pres won’t let it go.”
I can only nod, taking it in and unsure of what this Sunday will be like.
Church was never contentious that I remember. I was young, practically a kid, and I figured things would stay the same forever. Church was for brainstorming ideas for the garage, for fucking around and giving each other a hard time. For splitting cash after handing off deals for the organizations that relied on us. The Cross brothers up north, and the Valettis down south with their connections to the docks. We acted as a go-between and took a hefty chunk of change to make it worthwhile.
“I don’t see why we need to expand unless things have changed? Have we lost deals or taken smaller cuts or what?”
“No,” he says and his voice raises slightly as he shakes his head, “money is good. There’s no reason, that’s what I’m saying.” He hesitates and pauses his tapping before saying, “It should have been you who took over.”