Riven - Jerry B. Jenkins [148]
Mr. Brady Wayne Darby:
Be advised that this is the last communiqué you shall receive directly from me. Anything further will come from my legal counsel.
The damage you caused has been repaired at my own expense, and while I appreciate your offer of reimbursement, allow me to counterpropose: you never see my daughter again, and we will consider the matter closed.
Do yourself a favor and don’t imagine you and Katie as star-crossed lovers. She has made a habit of attaching herself to your type over the years, but wake up. No one like her could really be seriously interested in someone like you, and the sooner you accept that, the better off you will be.
If you find this difficult, grow up. If you violate my wish in this, you’ll regret it.
Direct any further correspondence to my attorney, but I guarantee that effort will be futile too.
Most sincerely,
Jordan North
51
Serenity Halfway House
It had been years since Brady had wept. In fact, he hadn’t shed a tear since his brother’s funeral.
But now he found himself on the verge of sobs—not tears of remorse or sadness or disappointment. No, this was fury. This was making Brady take a good look at his real self again after playing the going-straight game for too long.
This man was not going to come between him and Katie. No way. What did Mr. North know of what his daughter felt for Brady? If it was anything remotely like what Brady felt for her, nothing and no one on earth could keep them apart. If she wasn’t interested in a future with him, everything she had said and done was a lie. He would have to hear it from her lips.
The problem was, Brady could not wait. He simply could not stay at Serenity without knowing where he stood. And if it meant a fight—of any kind—between him and Katie’s dad for his right to continue their love affair, he would stop at nothing.
That evening, just after dark, Brady used the house phone to call her one more time. “Katie, I know you’re screening calls like you always do. Maybe you can’t talk because your dad is there, I don’t know. But you had better get yourself somewhere where you can call me here at the house. I have to know where I stand, and I have to know now. If I don’t hear from you in an hour, I’m coming to talk to you. I’m waiting by the phone, and I love you with all my heart.”
Brady paced up and down the stairs, in and out of rooms, avoiding eye contact with anyone. He mustered an “okay” when Jan asked how he was doing. “Heard from Katie?” she said.
“Yeah. We’ll be getting together soon.”
“Great! Keep me posted.”
When the hour was almost up, Brady was so exercised he was afraid to look in the mirror. Something beastly and savage had been born in him that seemed almost physical, and he knew it would show in his eyes. He gathered up all the small amounts of cash he had earned doing menial tasks and stuffed into his pockets about forty dollars and change. As he hurried down the stairs, he ran into Bill. “Need to get out for a walk, man. Gonna pick up some cigarettes. Want anything?”
“No, thanks. Be back before midnight though, hear? Otherwise, somebody’s got to get out of bed to let you in.”
“No worries.”
Despite a chill in the air, Brady was sweaty by the time he reached the highway and thumbed for a ride. A trucker stopped.
“Trying to get into the city,” Brady told him.
“That’s where I’m goin’.”
“West side,” Brady said.
“You kiddin’? I don’t go in there. I can get you within about half a mile.”
“Perfect.”
As they rode, the trucker said, “Seriously, man, unless you know someone in there and they know you’re coming, you don’t want to be caught alone, know what I mean?”
“I know someone.”
Forty minutes later Brady was on the street again, second-guessing himself. His fury had not faded. Neither had his resolve. He just hoped someone would believe he knew who he said he knew.
Almost as soon as he entered the run-down section, he felt eyes from everywhere.
“You lost, boy?”
“Wrong neighborhood, son!”
He kept moving, unsure where he was