Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 126580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
I hadn’t even told Val.
“I think I’m going to go to my mom’s and do some more painting. I’m feeling the need.”
“Sounds good. You want to sleep there or at my place tonight?”
My mom seemed like a new person. Maybe it was the therapy, or maybe it was because we knew everything: about my dad’s death; about Isaac, whose lawyer thought we should try at getting him an appeal considering Leo’s confession. We didn’t have it on tape, but since everything else was treated as evidence, his confession about my father’s murder should be treated the same.
It was a long shot, but it was a shot. Either way, my mom had a new purpose in her life.
“I’ll probably paint late tonight.”
“Your house it is tonight.”
I smiled, warming. “I’ll see you tonight.”
“Love you.”
I smiled, my voice cracking because I felt this down into my core. “I love you too.”
EPILOGUE
TRACE
A month later
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
I was on the phone with Ashton, and I was looking down at the ring in my hand. “Yes.”
“Okay. Things have been quiet, but it’s time to hit back. They won’t be expecting it now.”
I put the ring back in the box and back into my pocket.
Ashton was talking about the payback we still had due. We’d found out that my father had organized the hits against us, whereas the Worthing family had organized the hits against Ashton’s family. We’d been waiting with payback against the Worthing family, but we couldn’t wait with my father.
Dominic West officially went missing twelve hours after Jess killed Bear. He went missing in the “very dead” sense of the word.
We had to move fast, but now we were finalizing our plans against the Worthing family.
“There’ll be fallout.”
I went to my window and looked out over the city. “There’s always fallout. They’re starting to make moves into our territory, thinking we’re not going to hit back. It’s time. They’ve come out of hiding.”
“We should meet for the final details.”
“I agree.”
There was silence after that. I knew neither of us wanted to hang up.
I missed my best friend, but our relationship was strained after I’d learned what he’d done to Jess. I knew the reasoning, knew he did it to protect me, but I hadn’t been able to forgive him for it. We were cordial, still working together, but we weren’t the same.
“How are things with—” His voice was tentative, and I knew who he was going to bring up.
I cut him off. “Let’s meet tomorrow. Before everything happens.”
His tone changed, growing more distant. “Of course. I’ll let you—”
“Ashton.”
“What?”
“You have to make it right with her first.”
“I know.”
JESS
I chose painting.
Or, I don’t know. A part of me might’ve just been choosing not that old life anymore. No more law. No more being a parole officer, but that meant no more being Val’s partner. In the end, it was a better choice for her too. I’d lessened the target on her back, and there was one because she’d stood by me. She would remain doing that.
Though, and there was a big “though,” the other side of me choosing painting was that it gave me different freedoms. Different options. I chose my time. I chose my paintings. No more orders. There was nothing dangerous about what type of paint color I picked. I suppose I’d miss the adrenaline, the camaraderie, and the action. I’d miss helping the parolees that wanted help. But my art, this was me. All me. A new me.
I’d just started. I had a whole future ahead of me, and this time, it actually looked bright.
I could see the hope, the light.
Painting had been an escape for my mind, from my job, but now, I was choosing a different path.
I resigned my position, and it was a full month later with no more drama. That, possibly, was the best part of my choice. More and more of my paintings were selling. I’d like to see that as a sign from the universe, but I didn’t. The jaded part of me would always be in me. I’d seen too much shit in my life, but it still felt nice.
The other nice things happening in my life? My mom.
Chelsea Montell was doing good, and sober, and she leaned into her therapy versus going back the other way. Currently, she was all aflutter because Trace was coming over tonight. I didn’t know the reason for the nerves. He’d been over for dinner on multiple occasions by now, but I was in the basement working. She’d insisted on cooking dinner tonight.
It smelled delicious, whatever she was making.
I heard the doorbell ring.
My mom’s footsteps crossed the house, and I had to laugh a little because Trace had a key for the house. He used it often when he slipped inside and came to my room. I brought up the idea of selling because of Bear, but my mom wouldn’t have it. Instead, she was sleeping in my room while we were renovating the master bedroom. New carpet. New everything. A new closet was being put in.