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I hate it because I can’t stop myself from doing it. Every time he texts me with a new location, my pussy agrees before my brain does.
I hate that we are now kind of friends with benefits.
And I especially hate it because he called me to let me know that he was on his way and instead of protesting, I had agreed and told him I was around. What the fuck was wrong with me lately?
And how the hell do I make it stop?
Just then my phone begins to ring. I pick it up to find Sophie’s name blaring at me. Shit!
“Hey Soph!” I say, trying to sound chipper.
“Hey Rachel. How you holding up? I feel like I have not seen you all week.”
I feel a pang of guilt go through me. One because I have neglected my only ally in favor of a temporary sexual fling. And two, because Sophie does not know my biggest secret of all. She thinks that the more she can help me, the faster I can get through all this and maybe get on to therapy.
But I know better.
There is no way I will be better with all the blood I will have on my hands by the time this is done.
There is only one way out, one I am yet to discuss with her.
“I am okay, dying for more information.”
“You are in luck because I might have something for you.”
I immediately perk up, “What is it? Is it Ricci?”
“Maybe, I am meeting a source tomorrow and he has the second name of the men involved.”
“What?” I can feel the hairs on the back of my skin stand up. Could this mean we have finally tracked down the two remaining men on my list.
“Is it him, Sophie?”
“I am not sure of the name but I will have it to you by end of day tomorrow. I have good news though.”
I can feel sweat forming as I clutch my phone, “Sophie, tell me.”
“He is right here in the city. He is not in Sicily or Atlanta or something. I need to get a name but I can confirm to you that the other man is in town.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
I feel relief rush through me, “This is all coming to an end finally?”
“Yes,” she says, hope in her voice.
I muster all my sincerity as I whisper the next two sentences. “Thank you, Sophie. Thank you for everything.”
“You’re welcome, Rachel.”
Soon, this will all be over.
I fall into some type of trance thinking of how at peace I will finally be when all this ends. If there is a heaven up above, and a God who watching over us, will he forgive me for all that I did?
Probably not.
Maybe he can forgive the murders, because they were paying the price of my mother’s life. Maybe he can even forgive the stealing because that was my way of staying afloat.
