Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 68583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
On the baby’s side was stack of papers and a small jar of formula, some diapers, and a single bottle.
I jerked my head up to Doc and said, “Go find her.”
He took off running.
“What is it?” Melinda asked, trying to push in closer.
I closed the box for the time being so she couldn’t see.
Melinda looked curious, though, and I jerked my head at Webber, who was now in the kitchen, and said, “Can you find someone to give her a ride home?”
Webber caught Melinda by the elbow and guided her out of the room.
“Wait, but…”
I ignored Melinda and everyone else, vaguely hearing Webber say “Everyone out!”
The music stopped abruptly.
Within seconds, everyone that wasn’t a member of the Truth Tellers MC was out the door, including the prospects.
“Do you want me to go get your brother?” Webber asked.
I shook my head. “Don’t involve him. I want the least amount of people involved possible.”
“What about the baby?” Doc asked. “Someone’s gonna know that a baby is missing.”
I shook my head, then reached for the note, my gaze moving over the sleeping baby once again before my eyes went back to the note.
Copper,
If you’re reading this, it means that I couldn’t do it anymore.
I’m so sorry.
I know that I shouldn’t be putting this on your shoulders, but I have no one else to tell. Truthfully, I probably wouldn’t have even said anything to you at all, because I know this is going to be a burden, but I can’t leave him alone with my stepfather.
I know that you’ll find a way to get him out after you hear what I have to tell you.
I’ll start at the beginning, I guess.
My mom and stepdad married when I was twelve. A little before you and I met at school.
At first, everything was great. Zaine was really great with my mom and my brother, Sonny, and he had this super high-paying job that meant we got to get out of the crappy house that we lived in and go to a better school.
But then I started to notice how my stepfather would always watch me. It made me super uncomfortable.
Over the next year, I felt more and more uncomfortable. I knew that one day that he was going to do something, and I was right.
He did.
That night he tried, though, I threw up all over him.
He was disgusted.
From then on, I found the trick.
I had to be sick, and he’d stay away from me.
There was something about my constant state of sickness that made me no longer as appealing.
And that’s when I started to perpetuate the lie.
I sold it with everything I had, even incorporating it into my daily life.
It worked, too.
He stayed away from me, but by staying away from me, he got closer to my brother.
Which inevitably allowed her to get closer to my brother.
That’s why I killed my stepfather’s mistress.
That day that you found me and Chevy in the same bed at the hospital was the day that I killed her. She deserved to die for what she was doing to my brother.
Chevy doesn’t know.
Nobody knows.
Nobody but you.
Which is why I’m writing you this letter.
After I’m gone, I won’t be able to protect my baby brother or his baby anymore.
I’m tired, Copper, and I can’t do it anymore.
Please, please, please make sure that you get Sonny out.
Thank you for keeping me safe all these years, and I’m sorry that I disappointed you.
Love you, Copper.
Reign
Sickness tore at my throat as I read the letter a second time.
When I was through, I handed the letter over to Webber, then stared down at the sleeping baby that was in front of me.
If I was understanding right—and I could be interpreting it a little wrong because it was quite convoluted—that day a few months ago when Reign had killed that woman and man in the car, she hadn’t killed just any random person.
She’d killed a sicko.
As far as I was concerned, good fucking riddance.
Any person who hurts another person in that kind of way, man, woman, or child, deserved to die in the worst way possible.
Truthfully, the way that she killed them was too nice.
She should’ve made them suffer.
“Where does Reign live?” Webber asked.
“In the apartment next to me,” I said. “Down the hall on the same floor. But the thing is, she said she was going home, but there’s no way in hell she would go there. Not with what she was about to do.”
Webber started making calls, as did Cakes.
I racked my brain for ideas on where the hell she would’ve gone and kept coming up empty.
“Got her,” Webber said. “She left in a car, ditched it at the Y down the road, and walked into the woods with a gun. Doc’s got a bead on her, but she’s running hard through the woods, and it’s fuckin’ pouring.”