Page 62 of Unbound

John swallowed.

“What can I do?” I asked again.

“You already did it. Thank you.”

“Can I get you anything, call someone?”

He shook his head. “My father’s on the way. He’ll help make… arrangements.”

He kept shaking his head and shrugged, eyes looking off into space.

I sat with him a while and then I told him I’d call him in a day or two but he should call me day or night if he needed anything. He barely nodded.

I met with Ben after that, at his condo. He and Olive weren’t overly hurt physically, just a few scrapes like me, but they were devastated. Neither looked like they’d slept.

The financial end wouldn’t sting too much; the place was well insured. Rebuilding of that end of the building could happen once the cops gave it the all clear, which might take some time due to their investigation. And then there would be a grand re-opening that would undoubtedly get good coverage from the press since the story had hit the national news.

Olive was worried people would be afraid to come. Ben told her he had a good PR firm. Olive excused herself to say she wanted to call John’s house to talk to his mother again, who was there with the kids. Olive wanted to get John’s dad’s cell so she could go to the hospital and offer her help from here.

Ben and I talked and decided we’d reconvene in a few weeks, once John was ready to move forward. If he needed more time, I’d offer to be his proxy with the other investors, maybe. I’d do what I could to help him out.

John’s situation weighed on me. Felt like too much weight to even consider. I couldn’t begin to imagine what it was like to be him, but I wanted to take Tia and the rest of my family and shield them. Shield her from the fucked-up world around us so no one could take her from me.

On my way out the door, I texted my brother again. I’d talked to him briefly on video call a few hours earlier. He was in Thailand and I’d been vague but he knew the gist of what had gone down here. I was in the middle of sending the text when my phone rang. Zack Jacobs was calling.

“Yo,” I answered.

“Denarda?”

“Naw, man, this is Tommy. Wrong number.”

“Denarda? Status.” Zack’s voice had little patience.

I didn’t give a fuckin’ shit.

“What about him?”

“What happened to him? He dead?”

“I would know this information?”

“Investigation is done, Tommy. We’ve got enough to prosecute him for Tessa and for a whack of underage porn that’ll be found in his home once the warrant is executed. I’m sure it wouldn’t take much to pin the explosions on him, too.”

“Is that so?”

“Fuck,” Zack grunted. “He’s dead. Isn’t he?”

“Maybe if he is dead, he died knowing that the footnote about him will say he had a massive collection of kid porn. Maybe the guy that killed him whispered to the sick fuck what it’d say in the papers in his ear or somethin’. Not that I’d necessarily know about all that.”

Zack didn’t reply.

“Where are you?” I broke the long and loaded silence.

“You know where I am.”

Thailand.

“All right, let’s stop asking questions we both know the answers to. You want something else from me?”

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