Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 117363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
“I didn’t need to know,” Wymack said.
Jean laughed and heard his voice crack. “You really believe that?”
“I believe we all have the choice to be better than the hands that shaped us. If I have the chance to do right by someone else, then why wouldn’t I take it?” Wymack gave him a minute to consider that, then said, “Talk to me. What’s going on?”
She was a child. She was my baby sister, and I should have protected her, but I—
I was just a child, too.
It felt like one of Riko’s knives was carving a line between Jean’s ribs. His lungs were too sharp and too tight; his heart was punctured and torn. Jean pressed a hand to his sternum, checking for blood, but the wet heat he felt was a soft splash against one of his knuckles. His face itched as a second tear slipped free. This one glanced his thumb as it dripped from his chin, and Jean raised trembling fingers to his cheek.
Neil gently took his phone away and checked the caller ID. “I have him, Coach,” he promised, before hanging up and setting the phone on the table between them.
“Don’t,” Jean said. He didn’t know if he was talking to Neil: don’t look, don’t speak; or if he meant it for himself: don’t lose control. “Don’t, don’t.”
“I didn’t know you had a sister,” Neil said, so quietly Jean almost missed it around his breaking heart.
“Elodie,” Jean said, and just hearing her name aloud almost snapped him in half. He clenched his hand into a fist so he wouldn’t tear his own face off and bit his knuckles until they bled. It wasn’t enough to stop his words. Each one was one of Riko’s matches, burning him anew: “She was only ten when I left home. Ten! Why didn’t they love her enough to keep her safe? Why didn’t they—” love me?
Jean lurched out of the booth. Neil caught hold of his wrist and stared up at him with an unreadable look on his face.
“Jean,” Neil said, quiet but firm. “We have to deal with this today, but we might not have to deal with it right now. What do you need?”
A hundred things he couldn’t have, a thousand things he’d long since lost. The only thing left to ask for was something he barely understood: “I want to go home.”
“Okay. Okay. Let’s—” Neil was distracted by something in the distance and swore viciously in a language Jean didn’t recognize. Jean followed his stare to see two men in suits at the entrance. They had their badges out as they talked to the hostess. Neil let go of Jean and gave his hip a light push. “I can see the kitchen. There should be a door out to where the dumpsters are. We can make it back to the garage from there.”
“No,” Jean said, pressing the heels of his palms to his eyes. He took his shattered heart and pushed it deep. It was too much to bury; his stomach lurched and roiled and threatened to empty all over the table. Jean swallowed it back with a force borne of desperation and imagined wrapping chains over the lot of it. There would be time to break later, maybe. For now, the only way out was through.
I am Jean Moreau. I know my place. I will endure.
Neil moved to let Jean back in the booth, and they waited for the government’s dogs to catch up to them. It didn’t take long, and the two agents turned cool stares on Neil as they helped themselves to Stuart’s vacated bench.
“Neil Josten,” one said as they both presented their badges. “We’d like a word with you.”
“Tedious,” Neil said. “I’m trying to eat.”
The agent chucked a couple to-go boxes across the table, nearly knocking Neil’s drink over as he did so. “I wasn’t asking. Let’s go.”
Neil sighed but started packing up his meal. When Jean made no move to do the same, the man closer to him made an imperious gesture and said, “That goes for you too. We’ve got some questions.”
“He has nothing to do with this,” Neil said.
“You sure about that?” the agent said.
Jean would’ve been fine throwing his meal in the trash, but scraping it into a Styrofoam box let him stall here a little longer. Neil waited until he was done before deciding he wanted to finish his drink. Neither agent was impressed with their absolute lack of urgency, but finally the two ran out of excuses to stay. They were escorted out of the restaurant with one agent in front and the other at the rear.
A black SUV with tinted windows and government plates was parked at the curb out front. Neil, being the person he was, pointed at the fire hydrant adjacent to its front bumper and said, “That’s illegal, just so you know.”