Well, it looks like poor Mike and his crew were innocent.
“A shipping container and four hundred crates don’t just disappear. Those weapons are out there somewhere. Seems to me there’s a leak in my system. We need to find it and eliminate it. Start at the beginning and follow the trail until it disappears.”
I go back to looking over the mail but pause at the envelope in my hands. The white mailer with my real name written across the front has my attention.
“What is it?” Ghost immediately reads my expression.
“Call Gloria in here.”
Ghost hops up from his seat and goes over to the door to call for my housekeeper. Flipping the envelope over, I run my letter opener under the seam.
“Yes, Mr. B?” Gloria asks, drawing my attention from the envelope.
“Where did this come from?” I hold up the white mailer.
“It was dropped off this morning. A carrier brought it to the door. Is everything alright?”
Gloria has been with me for years. She doesn’t know exactly what I do, but she knows enough about my house to know that shit ain’t always legal. If the mail carrier got past the guards and came to my door, there was no way he was unfamiliar.
“He looked legit?” It never hurts to ask.
“Yes.” She nods. “The boys at the front gate checked his credentials.”
I dip my chin, dismissing her. She walks out of my office. Flipping the envelope back open, I pull out the contents of the package.
Hello again, Nicholas,
By now you’ve figured out your supposed brothers haven’t received a letter. Don’t worry, their time is coming. For now, it’s just you and me. No need to spread myself too thin or use all my resources at once.
I wonder if you’ve gotten your wife back yet, Nicholas? She is such a beautiful woman. I truly envy you. Your mother and father would be proud.
I know that brings you peace. That was always your concern, right? You wanted to make them proud of you since you’re the one that sent them for that extra stop.
At least, that’s what the records say. They also say you were an angry child, filled with guilt and shame. And very handsome.
I didn’t finish the letter. My heart is racing so fast I have to shut my eyes and take deep breaths.
“Boss, you okay?” Ghost calls out to me, but I can’t answer him.
My world is spinning, and I’m no longer in my office. I’m not a thirty-five-year-old billionaire with a hotel empire. I am an eight-year-old boy sitting in a small office with pale yellow walls. The smells of cinnamon, nicotine and clove surround me.
My hands are placed between my knees. The holes in my pants have gotten bigger. I look down at my scuffed, plain white sneakers. So much of my life has changed in six months. I went from a carefree kid who had everything he wanted to a kid in scuffed, too small tennis shoes and pants with holes in them.
“Look at me, Nicholas.”
Lifting my gaze, I find the dark blue eyes of Mr. Howard.
His gaze is locked on me. I take in his features. His nose is a little too big for his face. His lips are always pulled up in a smile. The beard and mustache are neatly trimmed. His dark blonde hair is medium length and cut in a way that was made to look messy and carefree.
Mr. Howard wasn’t as old as a lot of the teachers and other staff here at the boy’s home. He was maybe in his late twenties. He wore jeans with holes in them and buttoned-up shirts with tank tops under them. His black Doc Marten boots were laced up tight. You could sometimes find him playing hacky sack on the front lawn or wearing a leather jacket in the summer. He was one of the cooler staff members and a lot nicer than most.
“Why do you feel like you’re the one at fault?”
I turn away from Mr. Howard. I hated when he asked me questions like this.
“I’m the one who asked for them to bring me a burger back. They were on their way to get it for me when they smashed into that tree.”
On the night my mother and father were killed in that car accident, they were going out for their usual weekend drive. Every Sunday, they would take an hour’s drive up to a lookout point to have a little alone time. That night, I had asked them to bring me back a burger from my favorite fast-food place. They died only seven minutes from that stop.
