Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 97364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
My eyes drift back to reality and the man before me. Prison has aged him, but if I’m honest, running from the law stole years from him long before his stint of incarceration.
“Ruby…” his voice cracks “…I’ll come for you.”
I nod as we both stand. Those are four powerful words coming from the great Oscar Stone. He wasn’t captured; he surrendered ten years ago. There is a purpose for everything Oscar does. Twenty years is a bargain compared to what would be a guaranteed life sentence for any other person who had committed the same crime.
My crime. Not his.
Tampering with an organ-donor list and bribing everyone who might notice is not exactly legal. Not all necessary things in life reside on the right side of the law. I did it, but he pled guilty.
The prison officer announces our time is over. Oscar clutches the sides of the table. We share a lasting look that doesn’t falter as he unfolds his tall body from the chair, its legs screeching along the floor. When did the middle of life fade into this blur with ‘firsts’ and ‘lasts’ suffocating the really incredible stuff in the middle?
I’m so afraid this final goodbye will forever be my lasting memory of my dad.
Here it is: would have, could have, should have. How many people get this opportunity to say all they’ve ever wanted to say? No regrets.
“I love you.” Why are those my only words? My heart swells with so much pain I can’t squeeze one more word past it. It’s not enough. A million sentiments scream in my head: I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I never felt normal, but I always … always felt loved. Thank you for being both a dad and a mum. Don’t hate me when you find out the truth.
“Why are you crying? My girl never cries.” He cradles my face and brushes his thumbs across my cheeks.
“Life’s just …” I whisper past the lump in my throat, “… not fair.”
“No one ever said it would be, Ruby. But it’s the only one you have, so go fucking live it.” He kisses my forehead.
I throw my arms around his neck. If I don’t let go, then this will go away. Oscar is a fixer. He makes the impossible possible again.
“Stop!” I sob as the prison officer pulls Oscar from my hold.
“I’ll come for you …” His head twists back as his feet shuffle toward the door. He’s waiting for me to turn and leave, but I won’t. Not this time. I watch him fade into the distance, each listless step a word in the final sentence of a book.
Goodbye, Oscar Stone.
I love you.
*
The probability of returning to London is zero. My name is Scarlet Stone, and I’m a third-generation thief with a one-way ticket to Savannah, an ex-fiancé on his way to Africa, and a copy of Eckhart Tolle’s Stillness Speaks in my messenger bag. My goal is to figure out the meaning of life or die trying.
“If you have a computer in there, you’ll need to take it out.”
My lips curl as I wink at the airport security guard. “No computer.” I zip through the scanner with a simple pair of leggings, T-shirt, ballet flats, and my ruby pendant necklace dangling in my right hand so security can see it.
An hour and a neck pillow impulse-buy later, we’re wheels up. My gaze finds the white knuckles on the armrest between the first-class seats. Before I destroyed my computer and mobile phone, I hacked into the airline’s system and upgraded my seat to first-class at no extra charge. It was my last illegal indiscretion.
I hope.
“You fly often?” the sandy blond asks in a shaky voice as he eases his grip, wide eyes darting to mine while trepidation continues to bead along his suntanned brow.
An American. Lovely. They can be so bloody chatty. Oscar always said I was as chatty as a Yank, but I’m not even close.
“No. I prefer rail, but if it helps, then you should know I’ve never been on a plane that’s crashed.”
His gray-blue eyes bulge with fright.
The plane dips. My neighbor clutches the armrest again. “We’re gonna die.”
I bite back my grin. “Just a bump in the road—a wave on the surface of the sky. If you want something to really blow your mind, I can tell you about a recent article I read about North Korea launching an EMT weapon over the U.S. If it were to detonate, then all electronics would be knocked out—including those on planes.”
Death-grip bloke gasps.
“I know. I was gobsmacked too.” On a sigh, I shrug. “But hey … it sure would be one helluva ride.” Okay, I may be chattier than the average Brit.
“You have a mordant sense of humor.” White teeth peek from his parted lips, still taut in a grimace. Color seeps back into his fingers and face.