Page 58 of Milk
Carter gritted his teeth and got close, not close enough to touch, but almost. “I didn’t fuck her.”
I didn’t believe it. Jason knew Jen’s name and what she looked like. She wasn’t at the ranch; she disappeared long ago. She was obviously dead.
Why would Jason lie about Carter fucking her, then tell the truth about her murder? We argued, first just heated and loud, then ugly. Finally, Carter slammed his desk and threw down a stack of journals and ledgers. Some were cheap, some were leather-bound, and some I didn’t even want to see the price tag on, but they all looked used.
“What’s that?” I asked, too exhausted to be pissed anymore
“You don’t believe me about Jen? Fine, but you should read these.”
“Why? What do they have to do with anything?”
“You want the truth, don’t you?” He asked. When I nodded, he continued. “These are filled with the truth, with all the answers you want.”
“Why can’tyoujust tell me the answers, Carter?”
“Because nothing is that easy, Tiff!” He shouted, frustrated, walking away from the desk. “Hearing it is one thing. Finding out for yourself? Piecing it together? That’s another. These journals speak for themselves.”
“How do I know they’re real? How do I know anything about you is real and not some manipulation?”
That seemed to me like a fair question, considering the fake ‘farm’, the painted scenery, the mimicry of suburbia. It was just illusions on top of illusions. Carter recoiled. Despite our fight, that gave me pause. It also gave me a chance. His security cardwas on the table behind him. I took a deep breath, trying to calm the urge to take it and run.
After a pause, he said, “I’m no storyteller, or creator… just read it, look at the dates, the handwriting … you’re smart.You’ll see…”
I nodded and opened my arms, moving towards him and conceding. “Okay. I’ll read them. I just need some time, Carter.Alone, maybe.”
He nodded and allowed me to hug him. I took the opportunity to swipe the card. As we broke the hug, he departed, leaving me alone in the room. I stashed the card under the bed. I looked at the journals. Was there any point in reading them now that I had decided to leave?
But, what if what’s in them changes your mind?The lovestruck side of me asked. I wanted to shut her up, but she’d made my months in Carter’s control bearable. I owed her the benefit of the doubt. I sat at the desk and opened the first journal. I decided to start with the leather-bound one. It was immediately clear this was written by Carter’s father. It was filled with the notes he took while he established this facility. A mix of numbers, calculations, and meeting details with the occasional personal entry. He mentioned Carter by page two, saying he had to bring him back from India.
By then, I was intrigued. I read on and on. I forgot to eat, though a worker came to bring me a meal and a glass of milk at some point. Carter didn’t show up until the evening. The clock at his table said it was almost eleven PM when I finally started to feel sleepy, but I wanted to keep reading. Each page brought more questions and each answer prompted another mystery. Each time I could add a piece to the puzzle of Sunshine Farms and Carter’s life made everything more bleak and more surreal. Disgust, fear, and rage all boiled inside me. Carter was right. He couldn’t have faked this. There was too much detail, it was tooconsistent with the most cruel, wicked, and bizarre thoughts I’d ever read.
He didn’t come back the next day. I was given breakfast, I bathed, then jumped into reading again. I finished the business ledger and turned to the diary. Then the next and the next. I couldn’t stop. The more I read, the more the pieces started to fall in place with the previous, and a growing, inescapable realization dawned.
My eyes were teary, my heart ragged, and then my eyes went to the mattress where I hid the key card. My thoughts went to Carter. To Jason. To those pages. I knew what to do.
Ipaced back and forth across the administrative office of Sunshine Sanctuary. Not the nice one back in my room, deeper in the facility, but the surface office where I had prepared a cot bed to sleep on. It had been three days since I had left Tiffany alone with my journals. I had my men keeping track of her through security cameras and the GPS on her neck so, if she put her plan of escaping with Jason into action, I would be warned on time. I had made clear that unless she left the designated areas like the Ranch or my room, I didn’t want to hear about it. It was the only way to stay sane. I was giving her the chance to make her decision with all the information she needed.
Well, almost all the information. There was one more piece of the puzzle. Something that I knew would be relevant, but that I had not brought up yet. First, she needed to know the truthabout this facility, my origins, everything. Then, and only then, she would be ready for the final reveal.
After that, whatever her decision was, I would respect it. No matter how much it would hurt me. If my lovely cow wanted to leave, then I would escort her to the gates myself. At least, that’s what I told myself.
There were some accounting matters to resolve, numbers to be crunched, and business documents to look over. I’d delegated most of that to other people in the company during my time focusing on Tiffany, but this self-imposed detox reminded me that nobody was as good as me at managing the business. I alone understood the full scope of what was at stake. Fixing minor mistakes, ensuring everything was working effectively, all that was a pretty involved task. It kept my mind off Tiffany for the most part. At night, on the cot bed, I couldn’t ignore how much I missed her. I struggled to sleep without her sweet, warm presence at my side. Without being able to wrap my arms around her, my worries swirled.
It was the middle of the afternoon on the third day when I received a message from Susan telling me to go to my room. My real room, deeper in the facility. With staggered steps and dark circles under my eyes, I did just that. Had Tiffany’s escape plan had begun, or was Susan going to scold me for my irresponsibility? I had offered my sweet cow all the facility secrets contained in those diaries.
When I entered my room, I wasn’t greeted by Susan or a security team, but by Tiffany alone. She wiped tears from her eyes, looked at me, and sighed. My gaze lingered on her large tits for a moment, dripping milk, before my eyes met hers.
“So…” I started.
“I asked Susan to call you,” she admitted, “I read everything.”
“Everything?”
She just nodded.
“Then, there’s one more thing I would like to tell you. One last thing I would like to do. After that, you can tell me what you want to do, Tiffany. Whatever it is, I’ll allow it.”
“Are you sure?” She asked softly.
