Page 93 of Dr. Bell

“I don’t know,” I answered. “I won’t make the mistake of letting another man get the chance to do that to you.”

This time, she touched my hand. “Thank you, Adir.”

“No thanks needed. I wish you would’ve come to me.”

“What gave me away?”

“Toast. You left her.”

A small, sad smile adorned her face. “If I would’ve taken her with me that day, he would’ve known I was up to something.”

“I get it, and I applaud you for getting out. Even if I’m a little bothered that you didn’t come to me.”

She shooed me away. “I was terrified, and there’s nothing to applaud. You found me. Which means, it was only a matter of time before he would’ve found me as well. If he ever lays eyes on me again, I won’t put it past him to kill me.”

“He won’t lay a hand on you,” I said.

Auntie solemnly reached into her bag and pulled out a brown envelope. She handed it to me. Inside were several tapes and photos.

Glancing at the pictures, I asked, “Where’d you get this?” I knew without a doubt that it was the same person who left me an envelope.

“It was delivered to Heir. However, the letter on the inside is addressed to me. She received it yesterday.” Her voice broke. “He killed that poor girl.”

Staring down at the picture, I had no problem believing who killed Genika.

“Have you listened to the tapes?”

“No… I couldn’t bring myself to.”

“Aight,” I mumbled as Alli hopped on the interstate.

“Where are we going?” she questioned, a little frantic.

“Home, Auntie.”

She clutched her chest, and her eyes widened. “No! I can’t! Heir! I need to—”

I silenced my auntie with a finger to my lips. “Relax… Heir is safe with Dothan. I got you, aight.”

Tears spilled from her eyes as her lips trembled. “Adir?” Her eyes pleaded with me to reassure her.

“I promise,” I assured her.

Two hours later, just as the sun set, we arrived back in Niceville Shores. I tucked my auntie and cousin at a safe house and went straight home to listen to these fucking tapes.

ADIR

“Settleinwithme,baby.”

Pretty climbed between my thighs and rested her head on my abs.

“What are those?” she asked while looking at the tapes.

“Genika’s recordings. I’m about to listen to them. I don’t know what’s on them—”

“I’m okay to listen,” she said.

Picking up the tape labeled as number one, I placed it inside a recorder, then pressed play as I trailed my fingers through my wife’s hair.

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