Page 83 of Silent Is The Heart

“Hm. Sounds foreign. Is she exotic?”

Rolling his eyes, he flicks a business card at me. It lands inside one of the money slots in the drawer. Sighing, he stuffs his hands in his pockets and stares out the front of the shop.

“Hisname…is Jasper,” he grumbles. “And he’s back, apparently.”

“Wait…Jasper’s back in town? That’s awesome!”

Isn’t it? He was the coolest boss I ever had, one of only two, but still the coolest. Wolf looked up to him like a big brother. Why the hell doesn’t he look pleased about this?

“Hemoved backthree months ago.”

“Really? Well, that’s cool, man. I know how much you missed him. I bet he was happy to see you. Tell him to stop in sometime. We can all go out for drinks.”

I don’t feel like going out anywhere, but for Jasper, I might make an exception. He’s a friendly face from one of the better parts of my past and reminds me of Nancy.

“Yeah. Sure,” he grumps. “If he’s not too preoccupied.”

What the fuck is that about?

I don’t get a chance to ask. He tells me goodnight and heads out the door. Fucking hell. When it rains, it pours.

Now that I’m alone, I don’t have to worry about getting a side eye from him for checking my phone for the millionth time tonight. Drawing it out of my pocket, my last message still has no reply.

Thanks for dropping off the car, but you can use it whenever you need. I hope you’re okay today.

I feel like a puppy who bit its owner’s hand one too many times. My words are sad puppy dog eyes that have no impact on getting me petted.

A rapid succession of thump sounds echoes softly through the shop. I turn in the direction of the noise and squint through the darkened room toward the lit exit sign above the back door. The thumping grows louder, although it’s soft and muffled by the exterior wall. I know that distinct sound. It’s the sound my feet have made hundreds of times padding down the stairs from my apartment.

I saw Wolf pull away out front. It wouldn’t be him. He knows I’m still in the shop. The lovesick part of me wants it to be Aaron, but lovesick me has shit judgment. Hurrying to the back door, I wrench it open to the frigid night just in time to see a figure hop inside the passenger side of a beat-up old pickuptruck. It’s a figure that looks a lot like the shape of one Leonard Bennick.

What the fuck now?

The driver, another male figure from the looks of it, spins out quickly, but I don’t think they even saw me. It’s like they planned on leaving in a hurry ahead of time. That can only mean one thing, and it’snota good thing.

I curse under my breath and book it up the stairwell. Bursting into my apartment, I flick on the lights, expecting the worst. I don’t know why I’m panicking; it’s not like I have much up here that’s worth stealing in one go. There was nothing in the pickup’s bed. What the hell did he take now?

My gaze lands on the coffee table in the living room, and my blood runs cold. There’s nothing missing. Just the opposite. The new addition to my apartment sends gooseflesh over my skin. Why does that look just like the sports bag Jason had?

Hedging forward, I swallow hard, as if the boogeyman will pop out of it. If Aaron were here, he’d probably tell me that if I touch it, I’ll be dead. I have no choice, though. There’s a note folded on top of it with my name on it. What does the horror movie code say about that?

Son,

We both know I was no good. I’d really have liked the chance to show you I’d changed that. I can never make up for what I did to you and your mother. God knows I don’t deserve your—or His—forgiveness. I had eight years to try to forgive myself, and I still can’t.

This won’t forgive me either; it only adds another black mark to my soul, but you’re worth it. Con men know con men... I can live the rest of my life at least, knowing you andyour fella have the chance you deserve at happiness, and that’s enough for me. If he is who you say he is, then you can sleep now, knowing he’s safe and what’s yours is yours again.

All my love,

Leonard Bennick

PS—Be mindful of your neighbors in the future.

I have no idea what he’s talking about. With a shaky hand, I pull the zipper tab back and peel the flap open. The bag is filled with money,mymoney. I know because it’s bundled the way I bundled it and some even have my deposit slips still affixed to them.

Reaching inside, I draw out a manilla folder and scan the documents inside. There’s a passport with Jason’s face on it, but not his name. It says Tomás, the name he gave me when I first saw him at Aaron’s. There’s another with Aaron’s face on it, looking a bit younger than he does now. The signature on it doesn’t look like his. I’ve seen it.

The next document doesn’t make much sense to me because it looks like it’s in Spanish, but the longer I study it, I’m certain it’s a marriage certificate. It was dated eight months ago. I’m not even going to entertain that Aaron knew about this. I already doubted him once. He wouldn’t have been in contact with Jason for that long and not told me. He wouldn’t have gotten married again in another country and not told me.

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