Marry Screw Kill

“Kind of a large piece for odds and ends,” I say.

“I’ve had it for years. I figured papers would pile up over time. Plus, it’s built like a tank. No way anyone can break into it or carry it away.” He avoids eye contact with me and wrings his hands in a very nervous, un-James-like fashion.

Bentley once told me his family’s best safecracker could open any safe in ninety minutes. I might have to call him tonight and disturb his party at my apartment. My curiosity needs to be satisfied, but I doubt anything can be done. Still, my gut tells me more than odds and ends sit hidden away inside.

James’ cell phone rings and he digs it out of his pocket. “Doctor Elliot,” he says in a rush and goes silent. Then he raises his head and shakes it. Bad or unwelcome news would be my guess.

“I’ll be there in ten.” James ends the call and stashes his phone away.

“Trouble?” I ask.

“Transplant.” He shuffles toward the door. “No rest for the wicked.” I nod my head while I walk behind him out of the bedroom. Wicked all right.

“So, you will be okay here?” James asks while approaching the front door. I am certain he doesn’t give two shits about my welfare, or anyone’s, for that matter.

“I’m good.” I should thank him, but the words are stuck in my throat. I am studying to be a doctor, not an actor.

“I better call Harlow and tell her the news. I’ll be at the hospital until sometime tomorrow.” He pulls out his phone again. “Are you ready for this, Sinclair? Medicine isn’t for pussies, but it sure helps you get your pick of them.”

Stunned to silence, I stare expressionless at him, burying the anger until he leaves. I hear the door click behind him and the hate I’ve tried to rein in explodes.

“Fucking asshole,” I yell through gritted teeth while pushing my middle fingers toward the door. It feels damn good.

Time for me to make a call …

I bring up the contacts on my phone and push call when I find the friend who can help me. Safe-heir Bentley.

“Hello, Sin,” he says, his voice raspy, like I woke him.

“Wake up, bum,” I almost scream into the phone and hear him push out a long sigh on the other end.

“I’m up. I’m up,” he says in a sharp tone. Sheets rustle in the background and I imagine the woman who was in the photo he texted me last night lying next to him.

“I need to ask you a big favor.” The type of favor that will make me indebted to him for life.

“Sounds fucking serious. What’s up?” asks Bentley.

“I met this girl.”

“Wait. This is about a girl?” I proceed to tell him Harlow’s story and how he can help me help her.

“Okay. I will have someone there tomorrow morning. I need you to text me the details about the safe. Make. Model. Even a photo. I hope you find what you’re looking for, Sin.”

I want to tell him I have in her, no matter what lies in the safe.





Chapter Twenty-Two


Harlow



“This bracelet is worth a hell of a lot of money.” The pawnshop owner eyes me with a troubled expression. His bushy gray brows almost touch each other in a straight line. “Do you have any idea how much?”

“No. It was a gift.” Was it really a gift? I earned every diamond carat shining in the shop’s light.

With a slight shake in his hand, the older man returns the small magnification device back to his right eye and bends down over the counter. He inspects the diamond stones from every possible angle. I hear him mumbling, but can only make out one word: thousands.

No wonder he questioned me. I’m wearing a pair of worn jeans with frayed hems. The thin material of my shirt is threadbare. But they are my clothes, not ones bought and paid for by James. I worked long hours standing on my feet to pay for them no matter their present condition. The only thing left of James in my life is the car in the parking lot and bracelet I’m trying to sell. I packed all my old clothes and the few other items, like books, this morning. I stowed them inside the trunk of my car and hope Sin will help me drop it back by James’ house. Looks like I am going to be bussing it around Rochester again, but I will live a life that would make my mother proud and pull myself out of this hole.

I should have enough money after selling this bracelet to put up a small deposit on an apartment. This morning, I called the old landlord from the place my mother and I lived for years. I was nervous and jittery just talking to him. I am stepping out in blind faith that I can pull off living alone. I couldn’t even afford it four months ago, so I don’t know how I can now.

In the blur of the weeks after my mother’s death, I signed everything I had over to him, not that it was much. He told me he would open another account for me, but that never happened.

Stupid me!

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