One More Fight [EDITING]

15: ADELAIDE

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    When Sam Ward tells us the heist is all about revenge, I know exactly what he's talking about. Fletcher won't, though, and I thank whatever's up there every fucking day that he doesn't. I don't want him to know the full, disgusting truth of who I am, what I've done, and the type of woman he says he loves.

He'll be disgusted. Fletch will never want to speak to me again, but then I guess he already doesn't, so what's another nail in the damn coffin?

"Revenge? What the fuck for?" Fletch asks. "The fuck you wanna kill her for?"

I sigh. "He got the other girl pregnant from the threesome. She terminated, despite Sam wanting to be a dad. He blames me for it."

The last part is a lie, and Sam's eyes fall on me and burn into my soul.

"How do you know this?" Fletch asks.

"I went to visit your girlfriend a few months after it all happened. Upset, pissed off." Sam doesn't tell him the rest, thank fuck.

There's so much more to this shit, and I've been keeping it away from everyone. The only people I told any of this to were Harrison and Sophia. She knew all of my deepest, darkest shit, and though she wanted to slap me silly for my mistakes, she also accepted they were a part of me.

Sophia was a saint, and I was the demon. Fletcher was the fallen angel, but I was the demon there, too.

Harrison was the one to console me from the phone, always offering to come back and look after me when the immediate things happened, but I never took him up on it. Instead, I went through it all on my own. People from work helped me out with food packages and love, but I don't think they understood quite how deep my grief sent me – it brought everything back from the past.

I wish Harrison were here to tell the truth for me. The truth will always set you free as they say—who the fuck are they, anyway, and why do they always have these stupid sayings? I hate it.

"I feel like there is one hundred per cent more of this story and I haven't even touched it," Fletch mutters.

"Touché, author," I snap.

"So, here is what's gonna happen. They're negotiating the others out right now, so we're gonna sit here and chat," Sam says.

Within a moment, the three of us are sitting around the desk. The computer is off, and no matter how many fucking times I press it, it will not turn on. I assume by pressing whatever the fuck button they did to alert the police, their sensitive stuff turns off.

Fuck.

"So you got this bit on the side pregnant, and you want to kill us for it?" Fletcher demands. "What sick, twisted version of my older brother have you morphed into? I knew you were always an idiot and ego-centric, but this is insane."