Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 77775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
“You will?”
Her pleased expression falls. “Of course. You’re Jude’s guest.”
I snort at that summation. “Hardly a guest.”
“But you’re in the guest room…” She trails off with a frown.
“I work for Nathan. Therapist. Just helping out, is all. The name’s Tate. Tate Prince.”
Violet’s brows lift. “You’re going to help our Jude?”
“I’m going to try.”
She shocks me by shuffling my way and throwing her spindly arms around me. I haven’t been hugged in, well, forever. I hug my cat. That’s all the affection I get. Sudden emotion prickles at my eyes and a lump forms in my throat. I greedily hug this old woman back, inhaling her cinnamon and sugar scent.
“You’re a gift from God, Mr. Prince. Truly.”
I’m hardly a gift from God and Mr. Prince reminds me of Dad. Her words make me uncomfortable. I carefully extract myself from the much-needed hug.
“Please call me Tate. And I said I’d try. He’s a tough nut to crack.”
She nods. “The toughest. But he needs cracking. I’m afraid one day he’ll shut himself off from everyone. His mother would have hated seeing him deteriorate like this.” She takes hold of my hand, squeezing it in her weathered hands. “Don’t give up hope, sweet Tate. He needs someone strong to keep pushing—to not be afraid of the hatred he harbors for himself. You’ve made it further into Jude’s world than any outsider ever has. The man deep inside is worth finding and saving. I have faith you’re the one to do it.”
With those powerful words, she releases my hand and leaves me alone in my room. As I sit at the desk to eat my meal, I can’t help but wonder if she’s right.
Maybe I am the right person for this job.
She thinks I’m strong.
That I could save him.
It’s a wild concept, but it’s one I’d like to get on board with. Not just because the fifty thousand could be incredibly useful in cleaning up my own life, but because this is what I do. What I crave in life. I love helping people.
Even unlikable mask-wearing grumps.
I can do this.
I will do this.
For me. For Violet. For Nathan and the rest of the Parks.
And for Jude. Especially for Jude.
Jude
As soon as the pipes begin whining on the other side of my office wall, I know it’s time to make my move.
He has a phone and he can’t bathe with it. Maybe I’ll find more information there.
I spring from my office chair and stride purposefully toward the guest room, each step marked by a silent purpose. The door is locked, but every door in this house has a metal instrument sitting on top of the doorframe that can be used as a key. I pluck it down and shove it into the slot on the door handle. It clicks softly, indicating my access. After I place the key back in its spot, I slowly twist the knob and then push open the door.
The cat, from his perch on the bed, watches me as I creepily enter the room. The bath water runs from the other side of the closed bathroom door. For now, I have that sound drowning out my movements, but when it stops, I’ll be forced to be extra quiet.
On the desk sit his wallet and car keys. He also seems to have just finished off a cup of coffee. The mug is still warm to the touch. I pick up his wallet, flip it open to look at his license, and then close it, placing it exactly the way it was.
Did he bring his phone to the bathroom with him?
I scan the room and don’t see it sitting anywhere. The suitcase I’d unpacked earlier today sits neatly on top of the cat carrier. I walk over to it to see if maybe he has it hidden in there. Sure enough, the side zipper reveals a phone that’s been turned off.
The water abruptly shuts off and I freeze. I lock eyes with Fucky, who watches me with rapt interest, tail swishing wildly. Tate doesn’t run out like he’s heard me, so I take a quiet breath before retrieving my own phone from my pocket. Luckily, his model phone is the same as mine, so I easily hook up the cable I brought with me to transfer any pertinent data.
I just have to hack into his phone first.
While I wait for the phone to turn on, I run through my brain the possible number combinations his passcode could be. Since I’ve already researched a lot about him, I may have those numbers in my database unless he chose a random, obscure code that doesn’t pertain to anything.
The phone eventually powers on. I try his birthday, the last four of his social, and am about to try the numbers of the street he lives on when a thought comes to me. Maybe it has something to do with the cat. I pull up my phone and locate the cat’s adoption papers, scanning until I find his birthday.