Page 42 of Most Of All

“Linda, what happened?” I ask, attempting to shake off the fog.

“You passed out in panic. How are you feeling?” she asks, concern etched across her face. I glance around, realizing I’m on the floor. Slowly, I attempt to rise, but Linda gently pushes me back down. “Take it easy, love, just breathe slowly.”

With her support, I take a few deep breaths, and allow the air to fill my lungs, then I gradually get up. Linda guides me to sit in a chair. She hurries away for a moment, returning with a glass of water. “Just little sips,” she instructs, her tone firm, but kind.

By the time I finish the water, the doctor has arrived. We are told to wait outside while he tends to my dad. Linda and I sit in the garden, the sunlight breaks through the trees as a gentle breeze rustles the leaves. Though I still feel a bit disoriented, the peaceful surroundings are a calmness for my uneasy heart. I lean back in the chair, allowing the soothing atmosphere to cradle me.

The doctor has been inside with my dad for what feels like an eternity, forty-five minutes to be exact. During that time, I found myself wandering the garden twice and making three trips to the bathroom. I couldn't seem to settle.

Finally, the doctor emerges, and my heart sinks as he explains my dad’s condition. He says my dad’s vitals are stable, and he’s technically awake, but he might be suffering from locked-in syndrome, a cruel reality where he can neither move nor speak. He can blink and open his eyes, that’s it. They promise more answers will come after further tests, but it feels hollow and distant to me.

Completely ignoring the doctor’s harrowing words, I make my way past him, fearfulness urging me toward my dad. Ever so carefully, I climb onto the bed beside him, resting my head against his chest. I close my eyes, listening intently to the rhythm of his heartbeat. I need to know that my dad is still here with me, fighting in his own way.

Thatturnedoutmuchbetter than I had anticipated. Initially, I feared they would all mirror my father's demeanor, but to my relief, they were far from it. They genuinely appeared to be decent individuals. I keep my fingers crossed, in hope it remains this way. We all reached an understanding that the drugs are off the table. However, many in the group still rely on money laundering and the bookmakers for their livelihoods. We’ve decided to stick with that path. Our aim is to maintain a good balance as much as possible, determined not to let the innocent suffer for the sins of the guilty.

I’m still going to be in charge, as everyone has voted in favor of it. I initially thought my father's role in all of this was somewhat limited, but I’ve come to realize it was much more significant than I thought. He was the owner of several businesses, and surprisingly, he did a lot of good for many people, which really caught me off guard. However, I understand that he wasn’t very well-liked by the majority here in this room. Many held resentment toward him, especially because of his involvement with drugs, and there were whispers about him potentially moving into firearms. They felt he was becoming too ambitious, which led to their discontent. Too big for his breeches, was their words.

In total, my father owned twenty-two different businesses and a staggering sixty-two properties, the majority of which are rented out. The crown jewel of his empire was a pharmaceutical company dedicated to the ambitious goal of curing a wide array of diseases. Yet, as much as I’ve come to terms with his death, I can’t deny the relief it brings. The tangled web he spun ensnared not just me but countless others, a little girl's life dangled over my head like a puppet on a string, forcing me into compliance with his twisted demands. For that alone, I'm grateful he's gone.

After they all leave, I remain behind with Tony, who has recently been promoted to COO, managing most of the businesses. I graciously appointed some of the other men to the same positions across the remaining companies. Throughout my life, Tony has been my most trusted friend, always having my back when it mattered most. It’s a comfort to know that I now have the chance to repay him for all he’s done.

Together, we dive into the details of what was discussed and begin to lay the groundwork for our future plans. Just as we’re finishing up, my phone buzzes with a message. It’s from Linda, informing me that Howard is somewhat awake, but Raine’s in a terrible state, and she urges me to return. A cloud of confusion envelops me, and without hesitation or a reply, I retrieve my things and head home.

Getting home in record time, I cross paths with the doctor who’s leaving. He takes a moment to explain everything that has happened with Howard. It’s heartbreaking to think this family has faced so much already; it feels like the challenges are piling up endlessly for them.

I rush inside, hoping to find Raine, and instinctively head right for Howard’s room. When I reach the door, I stop in my tracks. Raine is laying with her head resting on her father’s chest, tears streaming down her face, her eyes are red and puffy. It breaks my heart to see her this way; I would do anything to take her pain away. I’d set the world ablaze if it meant relieving her suffering. I gently step into the room, clearing my throat softly so I don’t startle her. Slowly, she lifts her gaze to meet mine, the sadness in her eyes shatters me.

“I know, Sweetheart, I know,” I whisper, wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her into me. Wearily, she nestles her face against my neck, sobbing softly, and I caress her hair, murmuring, “Shhh, it’s okay. I’m here.” My gaze shifts to Howard. His eyes are open, blinking slowly, as though he’s trying to communicate something, I nod reassuringly. “Don’t worry, I have her. We’ll come back in the morning,” I say gently. He blinks once more in understanding before closing his eyes.

I hold Raine tightly as I walk out of the room, whispering a quiet goodnight to Linda, who stands just outside the doorway. She leans down, kissing Raine gently on the top of her head, wishing us both a restful night before heading in the direction of her room. Gently, I carry Raine toward our own room, taking the stairs two at a time. I carefully settle her down on the bed her face is still red and blotchy, but she has stopped crying.

Concerned, I proceed to the bathroom, retrieve a washcloth, and run it under hot water, squeezing it out before returning to her side. It pains me to see her hurting, and I wish more than anything that I could take it all away. Kneeling in front of her, I carefully wipe her face with the warm cloth, tossing it aside as I press a kiss to her forehead. Her eyes met mine, and I can see tears gathering again.

“I love you,” she manages to say before quickly covering her face with her hands. My heart swells at her words, and I gently pull her hands away.

“Say that again, Sweetheart,” I encourage softly, keeping my gaze locked on hers. “I love you,” she repeats, a single tear trails down her cheek.

Gently wiping it away I cradle the back of her neck, my voice steady, “Good, because I love you too.”

I pull her into me, capturing her lips with mine, kissing her with a depth of feeling that I hope will bring her some comfort. The taste and scent of her fills my senses, and in this moment, I want nothing more than to hold her tight and shield her from all the pain. She’s everything to me, and I wish I could make it all better.

Isthatadamncockroach? This place is absolutely revolting, but what other choice do I have?

That shit heap of a van broke down just as I was headed to my storage unit. That unit is my lifeline, it's where I've stashed my money and personal belongings, the few treasures I have left. To make matters worse, I found only a handful of crumpled bills hiding in the glove box of that rust bucket. Without that small fortune, I would be utterly stranded.

So here I am, stuck in this rundown motel for the night, planning to head to the storage unit first thing in the morning. But now, I’m questioning my decision; the filth and insects are making my skin crawl.

As I attempt to relax on this ancient mattress, which I swear is older than I am, my mind keeps racing. Thoughts churn relentlessly, and I can’t help but ponder my situation. It has me thinking… I know I’m wanted by the police, but why am I running away while they get to live in their little bubble of happiness? I can't shake the thought that I’m leaving those two fuckers behind, in their happily ever after, while I’m off in the shadows, consumed by misery. How is that fair? This situation isn’t something I can ignore any longer. I won’t let them enjoy their blissful lives while I suffer in isolation. I have to do something to rectify this imbalance.

One of them has to pay the price, and it’s clear to me that Raine is the weak link in this scenario. She should have been mine from the start. Not that I would touch her now, used goods don’t do it for me. Nah, I will just have to kill her, she will be easier to kill than Don. I have to make a plan.

Well, first I will get my stuff then I will figure it out from there. I can’t think properly in this shit hole.

I wake up early, though I have not slept much at all. The night felt endless, filled with a gnawing anxiety that made it seem like invisible things were crawling on my skin, leaving me in a constant state of discomfort. The thought of stepping into the shower is unsettling. I can't shake the paranoia that the water might come out brown or contaminated, so I decide against it entirely.

Before heading out, I rummage through the laundry room and borrow a few pieces of clothing. They don’t fit quite right, too baggy in some places and tight in others but they will have to suffice. Now, I have to figure out how to get to the storage unit. It’s still about a two-hour drive away, too far for my liking. I kick myself for choosing such a remote location; it had seemed like a good decision at the time. I consider hitchhiking, but the risks are too high. If someone recognizes me, they might tip off the police. The same for taking the train. That leaves me with only one option: the bus. No one pays attention to passengers, and that’s how people like me manage to slip through the cracks. I take a deep breath. Yes, the bus will be my best bet.

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