Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
“Don’t worry. It’s over now,” I tell him.
“It hurt my pride, calling you,” Michael says after a pause, “but I only wanted a loan. I was going to pay you back.”
“You think these lowlifes would’ve left it at that? They’ll bleed you until there’s nothing left. They gave you fake names, by the way.”
Michael flinches. “What?”
“They said they were Tony and Luigi, but that’s crap. They’re not in the mob, either. They’re two-bit criminals by the name of Leon Reynolds and Martin Blackwood. They were imprisoned for grand theft auto a couple of years back. Since then, it seems they’ve moved onto this scam.”
Michael is staring wide-eyed at me. This would be a proud moment, helping my friend, if it weren’t for the obvious complication hanging between us. “How could you know any of that?”
“I didn’t sleep on the plane,” I tell him. “The internet is a useful tool, Michel. I was liaising with a private detective. He’s the top-rated one on the site. I paid him ten times what he usually gets. That was enough for him to dig this up and something else, too.”
“What?” Michael asks.
“A video of these fuckers shaking down a store, claiming to be the mob. The store owner was going to press charges, but then these cowards threatened him. The video was still on file, though.”
“What good will that do?” Michael says.
“The video’s just part of it,” I tell him. “I’ve hired a private security firm, too. Four ex-soldiers. Just think of it, Michel. All those hours on the ice. Years of playing in the league and spending almost no money. Now, I get to put it to good use. I get to make something right.”
He’d called me asking to borrow twenty thousand to pay the criminals off. I’ve already spent over fifty thousand arranging everything on the flight, including the video and the private security firm. I’d spend ten times that so my friend doesn’t have to live in fear.
“But this firm, they’re legal, yeah?” Michael says.
“Completely.”
“So they’re not going to hurt them?”
“Would you want them to get hurt?” I ask.
“I-I don’t know. I’m not sure.”
“They came to your home,” I say gruffly. “They threatened you and your family when your wife and children were inside. If I were in your position, I’d want to tear them to pieces.”
Michael looks at me for a few long moments, seeming almost scared. “I’m sorry about the game, Log—”
“You don’t have to apologize,” I cut in. I can’t hear this. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You got drunk and had a good time.”
I was the one fucking his daughter when he was sleeping off the liquor. I was the one falling more and more in love with her with each moment. I was the one who ruined what the friendship could’ve been.
“I shouldn’t have ghosted you like that.”
Ghosted, it’s a young person’s phrase. Talking with Emma has allowed a few of those to slip into my vocabulary.
“Why did you?” Michael asks in a small voice. For a second, he sounds so similar to Emma. “I know you’re busy. Life can get hectic. I don’t blame you if you wanted to ease up on the video chats, but…”
He sounds uncomfortable even to be bringing this up. I understand why, but telling him the truth would mean betraying Emma. I can’t lie, either.
“There are some things I can’t mention right now. I know that’ll make you curious as hell, but I’m sorry, Michel.” I almost switch to French, speaking as we used to, but then I remember he’s forgotten most of his. “I want to tell you, when we were kids, your friendship meant a lot. I was going through some bad things at home. My mom, she was—”
I swallow. This isn’t like when I told Emma, the tears almost sliding down my face. I keep my voice steady, but it’s still difficult to address this. “She had problems. She never hit me, but she hurt me in her own way. Your friendship and those hours on the ice were a refuge. It meant a lot. That’s all I wanted to say.”
I clear my throat and stare at the road, waiting.
“It meant a lot to me, too,” Michael says quietly. “All that stuff with my sister. The drama with her teacher, and then after.” He shudders. “When we were playing hockey, or even just skating, it was easy to forget about all that.”
“Amen, Michel,” I say. “Amen.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Emma
“I’m sorry for my reaction,” Mom says, sitting on the chair, folding her legs, suddenly poised and ready. “That wasn’t fair of me, Em. I don’t know all the details about your relationship.”
Mom has asked about my so-called boyfriend with the girlfriend a few times since Logan left, but I’ve always shrugged it off and told her I wasn’t ready. Now, I’m not sure what else to do. I don’t want her to think I’m the sort of woman who would do this.