Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 117820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 589(@200wpm)___ 471(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 589(@200wpm)___ 471(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
Mom gapes. She’s clearly disappointed there’s no money. Not even in Mee-maw’s jewelry. She didn’t buy expensive things.
“She’s joking right?”
Mr. Procter continues, “For my granddaughter Imogen Mary Hardy, I leave my home and the remainder of my savings, the land upon which my home was built and my bible in the hopes that one day she may find it in her heart to forgive me and perhaps build her family in the one place I tried my hardest to build ours.”
“That old bitch just had to,” I hiss, shaking my head, feeling my eyes burn.
Does she really think I’ll raise a kid in that house? Is she insane?
“This isn’t fair,” Mom breathes.
“You were as absent as fucking snow in these here parts,” Matthew snaps at her. “Only person who ever spent any time with Mee-maw was Imogen. Makes sense she’d leave it all to her.”
“So I trust you won’t be disputing the will?” Mr. Procter asks.
“I won’t be,” Matthew responds, glancing my way.
“I’ll be homeless!” Mom shrieks sounding panicked.
“And I grew up motherless,” I reply, feeling a certain amount of power in this situation. “Ain’t life a bitch?”
Mom gapes at me. “You’re a cruel girl, Imogen.”
“Calm down, Ma, Immy didn’t say you couldn’t live in the house.” Matthew rolls his eyes but I’m bristling over his name for me.
“Don’t call me Immy. That name is reserved for people who give a shit about me.”
Matthew looks down at his shoes and doesn’t respond.
“Well, this should be quite simple then.” Mr. Procter looks like he wants to be out of this situation now. I don’t blame him. “I just need you all to sign a few things and I’ll move it along.”
“I thought you’d turn down the money,” Kane whispers as we leave a few minutes after listening to the entirety of the will and the itinerary. It was boring as hell. We bailed the second Mr. Procter stood, mostly because I didn’t want to have to deal with Mom and I especially don’t want to have to deal with Matthew.
“There’s gotta be two hundred grand in savings if you count the house value,” I reply with a smirk. “If we want to get serious about finding our kid, we need to up our game and for that we need money. The old bitch can pay for it.”
“Right.” Kane’s eyes light up. “That’s a good point, Immy.”
“I have good ideas sometimes. My little girly brain can think things.”
He nudges me with his elbow. “You good?”
“I’m good.”
“Imogen,” Matthew calls as we reach the car. “Please wait.”
“I will stab you, not even kidding,” I reply daringly and yank open the car door.
Kane blocks my body, protecting me from seeing him and so he’s at a better angle to catch me if I fly at him again.
“Imogen please,” Matthew begs. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”
I laugh once and climb into the car. “Better move brother or I’ll run your ass over.” I’m not even kidding. I wish I could express my level of hatred for the boy who was once my everything, but it’s too intense for meagre words.
His hazel eyes shine with emotion. “I know I don’t deserve it. But I miss you. And I’m sorry.”
“You’re the reason our kid is gone, sorry ain’t a word to make up for that,” Kane puts in and Matthew looks devastated. “Only reason I’m not beating your ass is because I don’t need to be in jail when my girl needs me by her side. But you step foot near us again, I’ll end you. Won’t even think twice about it.”
Matthew’s lips part and he remains frozen for the longest moment. Then he takes another step towards us, tries to speak, stops himself, turns and walks away. My heart breaks because even though he deserves everything he gets; I still love the boy I once knew, and I don’t ever want to hurt him.
“Immy,” Matthew mouths, looking as heartbroken as I felt when he left that prison and left me behind. I correct myself mentally because there’s no way he could be as heartbroken as I was back then.
Kane puts the car in reverse and backs out of the space. I don’t speak as he drives us to the main road, I just stare out of the window while trying to gather myself.
“The old bitch left me everything,” I utter, letting it sink in.
I had no idea she’d do that, none at all.
We pull up the long driveway of an unfamiliar home just a few blocks from Faceless Mechanics. I know the area but I don’t know anybody who lives here. It’s a nice house, has a garage and the driveway could fit a couple of cars. It has two floors and nets in all the windows.
It seems to be well maintained, could use a fresh coat of paint though. This is why I like having an apartment. I don’t have to worry about maintenance.