The Last Thing He Told Me by Laura Dave (bill gates books to read .txt) 📗

been obsessed with the tiger. The boy had cried when he had to leave the tiger, not understanding why he couldn’t take the tiger home with him. How do you explain that the tiger ended up at this boy’s home? A coincidence? That was what the zoologists decided. The family lived pretty close to the zoo. But Olivia thought it served as proof. That sometimes you find your way to the place that wants you most.”

“I love that story.”

“You would have loved her,” he said. Then he smiled, looked out the airplane window. “There was no way… not to love her.”

I squeezed his shoulder. “Thank you.”

He turned back toward me. “Do you feel better?”

“Not really,” I said.

He laughed. “What else do you want to know?”

I tried to think of what I was asking for—it wasn’t about Olivia. It wasn’t even about Bailey. Not exactly, at least.

“I think… I think I need you to say it out loud,” I said.

“Say what?”

“That we’re doing the right thing.”

That was the closest I could get to it—the closest way to express what I was actually worried about. I wasn’t used to being a part of a family, not since I lost my grandfather. And that didn’t exactly feel like a family. That felt like a twosome, plowing our way through the world, just me and him. His funeral was the last time I even saw my mother. Her calls on my birthday (or somewhere around my birthday) were our only form of communication at this point.

This was going to be something different. It would be the first time I was a part of an actual family. I felt completely unsure of how to do it properly, how to count on Owen, how to show Bailey she could count on me.

“We’re doing the right thing,” Owen said. “We’re doing the only thing. I swear to you, on everything that matters to me, that’s how I feel.”

I nodded, calmed. Because I believed him. And because I wasn’t really nervous, at least not about him. I knew how much I wanted him—how much I wanted to be with him. Even if I didn’t know everything about him yet, I knew that he was good. I was nervous about everything else.

He leaned in and put his lips against my forehead. “I’m not going to be that asshole who says you kinda have to trust someone at some point.”

“You’re going to be the asshole who says it without saying it?”

The airplane started backing up, jolting us, before it turned, slowly heading toward the runway.

“Apparently,” he said.

“I know I can trust you,” I said. “I do. I trust you more than anyone.”

He locked his fingers through mine.

“Metaphorically or actually?” he said.

I looked down at our fingers, locked together like that, just in time for takeoff. I stared down at them, finding comfort there.

“Here’s hoping they’re the same thing,” I said.

The Good Lawyer

When we get back to the hotel room, I lock the dead bolt behind us.

I start looking around the room, our belongings strewn on the floor, our suitcases open.

“Start packing your stuff,” I say. “Just throw it all in the suitcase, we’re out of here in the next five minutes.”

“Where are we going?”

“To rent a car and start driving home.”

“Why are we driving?” she says.

I don’t want to say the rest of it. That I don’t even want to go to the airport. That I’m afraid they’ll be looking for us there. Whoever they are. That I don’t know what her father did, but I know who he is. And anyone who reacts to him the way that Charlie reacted to him is someone we can’t trust. He’s someone we need to get away from.

“And why are we leaving now? We’re getting closer…” She pauses. “I don’t want to leave until we figure this out.”

“We will, I promise you, but not here,” I say. “Not where you could be in danger.”

She starts to argue, but I put up my hand. I rarely tell her what to do, so I know it may go south starting now. But still. She has to listen. Because we have to leave. We should be leaving already.

“Bailey,” I say. “There’s no choice. We’re in over our heads.”

Bailey looks at me surprised. Maybe she is surprised that I tell her the truth, that I don’t sugarcoat it. Maybe she just wants to be done trying to convince me that I’m wrong to head back home. I can’t read her expression. But she nods and stops arguing, so I decide to take the win.

“Okay,” she says. “I’ll pack.”

“Thank you,” I say.

“Yep…” she says.

She starts picking up her clothes and I walk into the bathroom, closing the door behind myself. I look into the mirror at my tired face. My eyes are bloodshot and dark, my skin pallid.

I splash water on my face and make myself take a few deep breaths in, trying to slow down my heartbeat—trying to slow down the crazy thoughts that are plowing through my mind, one of them finding its way to the surface anyway. What have I gotten us into here?

What do I know? What do I need to know?

I reach into my pocket, palm my phone. I cut my finger on the shattered screen, the small glass shards imbedding in my skin. I pull up Jake’s contact and send a text.

Pls get back to me on this ASAP. Katherine “Kate” Smith. That’s her maiden name. Brother Charlie Smith. Austin, Texas. Cross-reference for birth of daughter, matching Bailey’s age. Name “Kristin”. Austin, Texas. Also check for marriage certificate and death certificate. Won’t be reachable on my phone.

I put the phone under my foot and get ready to smash it. Even though it is the only way Owen can find us. It’s also the way anyone else can. And if my suspicions are right, I don’t want that. I want to get out of Austin without that happening. I want to get away from Charlie Smith and