Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 124(@200wpm)___ 99(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 124(@200wpm)___ 99(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
Evidence Points to Reverend Patrick Tuttle Skimming Church Funds for Personal Gain.
“Fuck!” I shout.
I tap my fingers on the wheel all the way to Casey’s apartment, leap out, and race up to his unit as fast as I can, feeling like my heart is about to explode. I rap on the door like a mad woman, and he pulls it open almost instantly.
“Hi,” he says, a hesitant smile on his face.
“Hi? That’s all you have to say?” I brush past him into his unit. He closes the door behind me. “What were you thinking, Casey? I mean, what the fuck!?”
I hold my phone up for him to see this morning’s article, a photo of my father right next to the highly destructive headline. “I thought I made it clear I didn’t want this!”
“You said you didn’t want to be involved,” he replies. “I found another source. Someone from the church.”
The only thing I can do is laugh and pull my hair. The insanity of the situation hasn’t even fully hit me, and I’m barely able to process what’s going on.
“I. Didn’t. WANT THIS, CASEY!” I scream, the air scraping my lungs on its way out.
“We have to get you away from him, Michelle,” he replies. “Getting you pregnant, it might not be enough. We have to be together–”
“Oh, stop pretending like this is all about us, Casey! You hate him. He fired you, you’ve got it out for him, and you want to get back at him. Admit it!”
Casey’s eyes shift, and an expression takes over that I’ve never seen from him before.
“Michelle, this is a story that needs to be out there,” he replies. He’s speaking slowly, but there’s no concealing the anger in his voice. “He’s been stealing from people for years, maybe even decades. Not rich donors either. The little people.”
“Oh, like you?” I scoff.
“Yes, like me!” he bellows. “Not everybody in this world got to grow up with a silver spoon in their mouth like you, Michelle!”
My stomach twists. My body goes tight. I clench my nails into the palms of my hands and purse my lips back at him.
“Oh, is that right? Now I’m just some rich bitch?”
“Did I say that?” he snaps back.
“You might as well have!”
“What I’m saying is that the money you grew up on came from the pockets of innocent hard-working people, donating that money to what they thought was a good cause–”
“And then I just lived it up on that cash with my Louboutin pumps and silver spoon in my mouth while the rest of you innocent hard-working people suffered?”
Casey looks back at me and simply shrugs.
I feel the tears welling up in my eyes. The last thing I need right now is to break down in front of him.
“You shouldn’t have done this, Casey. You went behind my back. You betrayed me!”
Then I’m out the door and rushing back to my car, tears pouring down my cheeks.
What did I do? Did I really just screw everything up because I thought I was in love?
Do I even know what love is?
13
CASEY
It’s your standard night at Maggie’s bar. The regulars are all here, along with a sprinkling of guys from Big Charlie’s crew and some EMTs and firemen that showed up in matching work T-shirts to try and “rizz up some chicks.”
Charlie said he didn’t have any room for me on his landscaping crew, but he’d let me know when he did. So for now, it looks like I’m shit out of luck as far as work goes.
“Maybe you can start mowing lawns,” Chris suggests, tipping his beer. “Shirt off, chest oiled. I bet plenty of suburban ladies I know would hire you.”
“Ooh, and he could advertise with photos on Instagram,” Rodney laughs. “Call it Casey’s Big Cut Muscles Lawn Care.”
The guys all laugh. Everyone except Dave, who’s looking at me the way an older brother looks at you when he wants to say he told you so.
I thought going out tonight would maybe distract me from the fact that my entire life is collapsing down around me, but the way he’s glaring at me now is just pissing me off.
“What?” I finally ask him. “You got something to say?”
“Me? Nah, why? You got something to admit?”
He either wants me to say he was right, or he wants me to cop to leaking the story about Reverend Tuttle. Neither of which I’ll be doing.
“Go fuck yourself, Dave.”
“Whoa, take it easy,” Chris says, playing peacekeeper. “We’re supposed to be having a good time tonight. Maybe finding Casey a job?”
“You guys finish up without me,” I say, tossing a five on the table. “I’m out.”
This time Dave doesn’t even try to chase after me. I guess he’s given up. And right now, that’s fine with me. I don’t need him coming with me. Not where I’m going right now.