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My trip to Cayman has two goals.
First, I have land and a house there. I visited once, right after I received the signed deed from a lady I semi-conned into ‘selling’ it to me in a classic old tax evasion grift. She was a thirty something drowning in generational wealth and most of it was going up her nose or into her veins. I never even fucking touched her, and a week after I took ownership of the property, she took a dive into her backyard pool and never came back up.
Turned out, she didn’t treat her little teacup poodle very well. I didn’t like that.
No one ever questioned her signing over the property to me and aside from one visit to put my eyes on it and set up some ongoing services, it’s just been sitting. Same as it was when she owned the place. It’s crumbling, it needs some work before I can move Hannah in, but the foundations are all there. It’s a solid property on a large plot and it will be a home we can love.
There’s a flash of blue out the window, then it’s quickly enveloped again by the angry sky and the plane lurches to the left. A few carry-ons tumble out of the overheads and a woman is crying and praying in Spanish in the row behind me.
Turbulence in a small plane like this always feels like the end of the fucking world to the nervous or inexperienced. I barely notice, my dick twitching as I think of sleeping tucked inside Hannah’s constricting canal. She was so knocked out, she didn’t know I slow fucked her while she slept, delivering another thick round of spunk onto her cervix. From there, I left my dick in that paradise. Then, I must have passed out because the next thing I knew, I woke up to that fucking note and knew I had to get things straight and quit fucking around with my life.
So, besides the property and the house, I’ve got cash in a numbered lock box at the bank as well as my anonymous numbered other accounts. I need to make sure all those funds are accessible when we arrive. I can’t get her down here then have no way to keep us safe and living in the manner in which she deserves. It also allows some distance between us in case anyone catches a sniff of a connection.
I play out every minute we spent together. Recounting those freckles and all the times she called me Daddy. All the times she made me laugh. I’m losing myself in this new version of me and after fifty odd years, I finally see a rainbow and she’s the pot of gold at the end.
I’ve always thought happy endings were for suckers. Turns out, there’s a little fairy tale happiness out there for us all.
I reach into my pocket and withdraw my phone. Tapping the screen and pulling up the single photo I took of her while she slept. Her lips are slightly open, and her hair is a wicked mess around her pink cheeks but she looks like a fucking doll.
I’ve never taken a picture of anyone on my phone unless it had to do with work.
This picture is personal.
I stare at it for a long moment, a softness settles in around my heart and I think of the possibility that I’ve got my spawn cooking in her hot little womb right now.
I could be a father…
Boom.
The pressure behind my eardrums pops and a loud screeching sound tears through the inside of the plane along with a chilling woosh of air.
The lady behind me screams as an ear-splitting cracking sound shakes the plane.
The flight attendant on the intercom is barely audible above the roaring wind that’s coming in from the rear of the plane: “Brace for impact! Seat belts on. Heads down. May God be with us all.”
chapterfourteen
Hannah
One yearlater
I hear Ruth screaming from upstairs as I head round the side of the house. Brigid’s good with her, but babies cry, that’s one thing I’ve learned over the past three months. I’m grateful for my sister’s help. She could have walked out just like Dietrich did, never looked back, kept all her acting income for herself, but she didn’t. She stuck around. Because that’s what family does.
“Get the fuck out of our house!” I hear her voice as I reach out for the kitchen door, and my heart leaps into my throat.
This again?
Have they hurt my baby? Please tell me they haven’t hurt her…
“You borrowed five fucking grand, bitch! You haven’t even paid me the interest. You think we’re going to just forget about that because you’re losing your home? No fucking way.”
“We don’thaveany money, asshole! Why can’t you get that through your thick fucking skull?”
“And we’ve told you, there are other ways to pay off your debt. Sweet little thing like you, you’ll be clear inside of a week.”
“I’m not a prostitute.”
I hear the crunch of a fist connecting with bone, and fury washes over me. As I put my shoulder to the swollen old door, I hear another punch thrown and his growl. “You’re whatever we say you are. You think being a whore is so bad? I can make things much worse. I can make that baby stop fucking screaming, for a start—”
