Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 134747 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134747 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
She steps on the porch right as her phone pings.
She opens it, looking to the screen with a small frown on her face as she reads the opening.
Captain,
As asked, here are the final recordings off of Maria Vega’s voicemail. I find it an odd request, being ten out of ten are from you.
My best, James.
Victoria’s eyes fly to mine, and she shakes her head in confusion. “I don’t understand.”
With a small smile, I wrap my arms around her, pulling her against me.
“The day I found out she died, I was an asshole to you, and yes, a lot of that was because I was angry something so huge in your life happened and you didn’t think to share it with me, but I was also angry that you were so sure I didn’t care.”
Her eyes move between mine.
“For the last two years I went to bed listening to a voicemail left by Maria. Every single night, she’d call me and tell me about Zoey’s day. What she did, the things she said or discovered. Every detail she could remember, and it wasn’t given like a list or a chore,” I tell her. “Maria would laugh and sometimes I thought she might have been crying when she’d share little things, and then Zoey came home, and the voicemails stopped.”
“You started calling her,” she whispers.
I swallow. “Every night.”
Her eyes fill with moisture and she smiles. “You have a big heart, Cap, and despite all the bad shit you felt she was a part of, you knew what it was like to have to go to sleep every night without her.”
I nod.
It couldn’t have been easy. She had already lost two children, if I count myself, in her life, and she’d just lost a third. She helped take care of my daughter from infant to toddler, too. She loved her and I know Zoey loved her back.
“She listened to them, all but those last ten,” I tell her, reaching for her arm and pulling her close. “I want you to be the one to listen to those.”
She swallows. “Why?”
“So you know what I was feeling when I acted like I felt nothing.”
“You told her about us?” Her voice breaks.
“I did, Beauty. I was lost and angry, but I have no doubt she died knowing you’d be safe with me.”
She pushes against my chest, bringing her lips to mine for a slow, soft kiss. “Thank you.”
“Thank you,” I tell her. “I was a piece of shit. I hurt you, and I’ll never forgive myself for that. Ever.”
“I know, you’ve told me a million times, Cap,” she whispers. “But you should.”
“I won’t, but thank you for wishing I would, for forgiving me. For giving me more than I knew I needed, and for going with me to this thing today.”
The softness she reserves only for me covers her eyes as she leans in. “Always.”
The corner of my mouth lifts, and I slide my lips along hers. “Remember you said that.”
She laughs, allowing me to tug her along, and the two of us climb into my vehicle. We make the twenty-minute ride to the Brayshaw memorial park.
I’d never been to an actual funeral before today, and I’d be happy never to again. I don’t like when people cry, and there were tears all over this afternoon, most from people twice my age, people who knew Connor Perkins a hell of a lot better than I ever did.
It’s been exactly two weeks since the man gave his life protecting mine, his son. The son the world never knew he had.
I think we gave him a goodbye my mother and the man I consider my birth father, would be proud of. I think him getting peace after death would mean a lot to them.
He had a hand-crafted casket with his last name engraved along the top, and as a family we decided to give him a place in the Brayshaw cemetery.
If I had to guess, I’d say half the town showed up to pay respects for the man I had no clue so many were connected to.
The last thing I expected today was for sadness to creep inside me, but it’s there, nonetheless.
I didn’t want to know the man as a dad, but it’s funny the thoughts that run through your mind when the possibility is stolen from under you.
The service ended about an hour ago, and we’ve been sitting at a small circular table just big enough for us for the last hour, picking at the plates of food in front of us ever since.
My head rises when Maddoc and Raven push to their feet.
“We’re heading back. Cool if we pick up Zoey on the way?” Maddoc asks.
I nod, sitting back in my seat. “Yeah, man. Thanks.”
He clamps a hand on my shoulder, and they start to walk off, but Raven pauses.