Own My Soul (Sixty Days 3)

I had no idea what I would find from Amelia George’s sister in this place. I’d never met her, knowing her only as some random London criminal, the same as the rest of her family had seemed once upon a time. Still, this didn’t seem like a criminal haven or hotspot. This seemed like another bolthole someone had run away to, to start a brand new life.

Maybe she’d succeeded.

Maybe she’d gone running after her sister all those years ago and found a whole pile of carnage waiting. Maybe that’s what the evidence would be – shitty little dregs of information some poor sibling had hunted down in the aftermath.

Stuff I should’ve hunted down myself if I wasn’t so caught up in the apparent betrayal and rejection. I took a decent drag and thought back to it, my explosion of pain at Amelia selling out for a cool million in cash. It had been quite a fountain of hurt until our father’s death clattered in hard and compounded it with more.

And there I’d been. A kneeling shell of a kid without a clue where to put a foot forward until Drake showed up and offered me a hand up from the shit fest. A proposition like no other. A proposition to follow in my father’s footsteps.

Only it wasn’t following in my father’s footsteps, was it? Not from the fucking sounds of it.

What I thought would be pride on his part would be nothing more than him turning in his fucking grave.

I tossed my cigarette away. I would be out of it soon enough, however the land turned out to be lying. Either with Paige Emmerson on my arm, or up there with my father if Drake ended up getting his way.

It was cold when the very first hints of morning light glowed on the horizon. My hands were plunged in my pockets, breath visible in the air when I took the final few minutes to admire the sea. I could feel them looming – the final puzzle pieces. Feel the clock ticking towards the inevitable conclusion.

My steps were fast and hard as I made my way back up the harbour and across to the hilled street on the other side of the village. I gave a smile to shopkeepers in the doorways organising the papers, and walked along like a regular tourist out for a morning explore. The hill was easy enough to climb up, my car a welcome break from the chill when I slipped into the driver’s seat and resumed my wait for an acceptable calling time.

It came earlier than I expected.

The dawn was still low outside when one of the downstairs lights glowed from the front window. There was a sliver between the curtains, enough that I saw a hint of movement inside as someone made their way around the place. I wondered if it was really her, Amelia George’s sister. A woman I’d figured I’d one day meet with her sibling on my arm and my ring on her finger.

I tried to remember her name, and which one she could be. Kelly or Stacey Ann, I believed. Both younger.

I wondered if they’d look like her. If the sight of them would be enough to knock me aback at the memories. If they’d have any idea who I was, or the relationship I’d once had with their sister.

I felt surprisingly nervous as I dropped back out of the driver’s seat and made my way across to the front door of the terrace. I pulled the note from my pocket and checked the scrawled address over again.

16 Ocean Rise.

I could see the street sign for Ocean Rise just down from us, confirming satellite navigation’s savvy for the area, and sure enough there, at pride of place on the blue front door, was the number sixteen in brass letters.

I was here. Definitely here.

I just hoped Amelia’s sister was too.

My knuckles were still cold as I held them up to the woodwork and ventured a gentle rap at that door. My heart was ridiculously wired as I waited there, my weight shifting from foot to foot as I struggled to find the words I needed.

This wasn’t like me. Wasn’t like me at all. I was usually ready for everything, prepared for anything, not emotionally attached to any outcome in the slightest, no matter what.

The sister of the woman I’d loved shouldn’t be anything more to me than an onrush of memories after all this time. A layer of truth I needed in the carnage, to end things as they should have long been ended.

I was kidding myself and I knew it. This outcome would be worth more than I’d ever put into words. Not just for me, but for Paige, and Eric, and that cunt of a business partner I’d been holed up with for years like a dumb fuck, too fucking ignorant to see how things should be.