Total pages in book: 196
Estimated words: 180438 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 902(@200wpm)___ 722(@250wpm)___ 601(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 180438 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 902(@200wpm)___ 722(@250wpm)___ 601(@300wpm)
Chapter 89
*Andrews*
“You’ve got the wrong guy. Don’t you people know who I am? Hey, I’m talking to you; answer me, dammit.” They ignored me again like they had the last ten times I said the same. I’ve been repeating that refrain or some variation of it since they threw me back here with cuffs on and no regard for my comfort.
At first, I tried telling myself that it was because of my disheveled appearance that they didn’t recognize me, but then I remembered that they’d called me by name in the alley, and that line of thought went nowhere, but only worked to heighten my fear and desperation.
I was trying hard not to shit myself while worrying about the cameras that were bound to meet us as soon as we reached the station. “Hey guys, give me a break here; you know I’m not good for this; you should be out there looking for the real killer. At least let me get cleaned up before you take me in. I can’t let my fans see me like this.” Nothing, it was as if I wasn’t even there.
I haven’t even had time to digest the fact that Mary was dead because I’d spent the last few days trying to get the hell out of here after hell broke loose, but never in a million years did I think that anyone would suggest I was the one who had taken her useless life. Not that I haven’t thought about it more than once, but who hasn’t?
Surely, I can’t be held accountable for my inner thoughts. Since when is it a crime to kill someone in my imagination? I wish the killer had waited until I was away from this place, or at the very least, if I had known what her end was going to be, I could’ve helped myself to some of the nicer things in her place; I could sure use the money.
Instead, I’m once again left with nothing but a headache, thanks to that sanctimonious bitch. I can’t even come up with a good enough excuse for my association with her or give them a plausible explanation for why I was in her home. No one was supposed to know the truth about our acquaintance because that shit would just open Pandora’s box.
Instead of trying to convince the two morons in the front seat, I tried to think of a way out of this mess, but my mind couldn’t seem to settle on any one thing that could be of help. Fear was the one constant that kept playing around in my head as we drove through the streets, fear and a running loop of memories. Flashes of all the things I had done in the last few years in the name of making it big.
I refused to believe that I wasn’t as good as my sister that I wouldn’t make it in the industry the way she had and, so I never stopped trying for my big break. When it seemed that time was running out for me, that my name would never be a household staple, it had been with some semblance of regret that my thoughts had turned to using my own kid to get ahead.
It’s not like I had forced her; she was the one who came to me with her fascination with Ryder all those years ago. I had just seen an opening, a way to cash in. It was just a thought, just a father trying to give his kid what she wanted. All the other shit that went down was out of my control.
I needed Mary, Scott, and the others to get close to him back then because there was no other way for me. It was then that I realized that I wasn’t as famous, wasn’t as loved as I longed to be. Fucking doormen had laughed in my face back then, treated me like some kind of washed-up has been even and refused me entrance.
It was the same everywhere else in my life and the last straw for me. I’d made one mistake in the past, and the powers that be had cast me aside like trash. I hadn’t done anything worse than any of the others who had come before me, but my only failing had been to get caught.
It had taken my sister’s help, along with a huge chunk of her money changing hands, to keep my faux pas out of the papers, and I thought things would just go back to the way they were; my star was barely on the rise after all. I’d heard enough stories over the years to know how these things worked, but instead, I’d found myself an outcast.
It was as if everyone knew about my little orgy with the not-yet-eligible, not-yet-age-appropriate kids at that party, something I shouldn’t have felt any regret over since everyone else was doing it back then as well, but it was brought home more than ever then that I wasn’t one of them. I could play in their pool, but if I started to drown, I was on my own.