Page 122 of Sinners' Appetite
If I wasn’t so tired already, I’d drive back tonight.
I need my baby girl.
“Rise and shine, Sir. Let’s get on the road!” I nudge Jeremy awake, poking into his sides with my fingers.
“You’re a really shitty alarm clock. What time is it?” he asks, sitting up slowly.
“It’s six.”
“Fuck. Good thing you’re driving…” He smiles, rubbing his eyes.
It takes a matter of minutes to pack everything back up and load it all into the car. We then hop in after leaving our key cards at the front desk.
“Did you text Sammi to let her know that we’re on our way back?” I ask Jeremy as we back up and head toward the city.
“I told her we would be back today… So why are we going into the city?” he asks.
“I have a stop to make,” I smirk.
I don’t know whether I’ll find what I’m looking for, but it’s worth a try.
“For…?”
“You’ll see. It’s a surprise for our girls.”
“Does this have something to do with the blood you collected?” he chuckles.
“Maybe…”
“I’m gonna trust you on this one.”
“I’m positive that they’ll appreciate it.
Not even two minutes later, I park out front of a jewelry store and we make ourselves way inside.
The last time I was in one of these stores, it was to purchase Amber’s ring. Two thousand dollars later, I walked out with the most beautiful princess cut engagement ring, and it fit her perfectly. I made sure that it was on her finger when she was laid to rest.
“What can I do for you, gentlemen?” the tall, lanky salesman asks from behind the glass counter.
“I’m looking for something in particular… Do you have any necklaces that might hold liquid?” I ask, scanning the section of necklaces to my right.
“Actually, I do. Give me one second.” The man slips into the back of the store while his female co-worker keeps her eyes fixed on us.
When he comes back out, he’s holding two square shaped velvet boxes. “These might work. We’ve had them for a while now.”
He sets them down on the counter and opens one case, tilting it toward me so I can see the contents. Inside is a silver chained necklace with a tiny vial in the middle, shaped much like the bottles that people put messages into and toss into the ocean.
“Those will work. I’ll take them both,” I say, pulling my wallet out of my pants pocket.
“Let’s get you rung up here. Can I have a name for the purchase, please?” he says, sliding the boxes over to his co-worker so she can place them into a fancy gift bag.
“Malachi White,” I reply.
“That’ll be two-hundred and sixty seven dollars, Sir.”
“For two necklaces?” Jeremy asks in utter disbelief.
“Yes,” the man replies.
