Forgive Me(83)

So that was awful. JUST AWFUL! I went over to Sophia’s house for the first time today. Her parents were home and the way Sophia’s dad looked at me made me kind of sick. Maybe it was all in my head. Maybe he wasn’t looking at me in that way. Maybe her dad just reminded me of the other dads who for whatever reason forgot they had daughters of their own.

Anyway, it was so awkward there I wanted to scream. Brianna, Sophia, Hannah, Madison, we were in Sophia’s basement, all together for the first time. Yes, I ran away, but I didn’t run away from them. I ran away from my mom mostly because there’s only so much a girl can take. But I never wanted to leave my friends. So now we were together again at last. But it wasn’t like before. I forgave and forgot everything Ricardo pointed out to me. Jump off a bridge 4 real. Calling me fat, those things. That’s just girl-trash-talk. I mean I’ve said mean things to them, but it was always jokingly, and even if they were serious I needed my friends more than anything, so forgive and forget I say.

For the longest time nobody said a word. We just sat on the couch drinking soda and watching some crap on MTV. I mean it’s so unlike us. Before, when we were all together, you couldn’t get us to stop talking. But this was awkward to the max. Sure, I got some hugs. Some, how are you doing? That kind of thing. But then it was the silent treatment. So I just blurted out—No I didn’t get pregnant! No I don’t have an STD or AIDS. YES I’ve been contacted by a bunch of people who want me to sell my story. NO I’m not selling it. YES I screwed a lot of guys! A LOT! What else do you want to know? How do we get over this? I’ll tell you anything you want to know.

But here’s the thing, and I think I just figured it out while I was writing this all down. They didn’t want to know. Not really. They wanted it to be something they might have heard about, or saw on Law and Order: SVU, or caught a snippet of on Dateline or whatever. They didn’t want it be something they could reach over and touch.

I was just too damn real for them.





Thank God Sophia came around! Thank you thank you thank you. xoxo She came over and we got honest with each other. No BS. I told her how everyone made me feel so cheap and unworthy. She apologized and we ate ice cream and well, I felt a whole lot better. Ice cream can fix anything, I swear. We must have talked for five hours straight. I told her what happened, I told everything as I could remember it, and she listened. She REALLY listened. I LOVE HER SO MUCH!! I needed somebody and she came through. I told her about Angie and what I thought about her friend Sarah Winter. Sophia thinks I can do something to help. Make a difference in someone’s life, ya know? I think Angie’s wall of photographs got to me, seeing all those faces, all those lost souls reunited with the people who loved them. But what about Sarah Winter? Her picture’s going to stay on Angie’s wall until she’s found. Ask me, I think it’ll be hanging up there as long as Angie has that office. Sarah’s never coming back. Without Angie’s help I might have ended up just like her—someone who was never found. I need to pay it forward. That’s what I think. It gives me purpose. Focus on something other than how broken I am inside. I have so many dark thoughts and dark days. I need a bit of light. If I can make a real difference in somebody’s life, isn’t it worth doing no matter what the cost? Sophia thinks so and I think I agree, even if it means I have to see Ricardo again.





CHAPTER 43



Raynor Sinclair parked his Acura SUV across the street from Ivan Markovich’s apartment building. His muscles creaked getting out of his car. Too many hours confined, sitting and driving, had turned Raynor into a tin man. He promised himself a long vacation outdoors with his bow and arrow once this job was over.

He crossed the street, mindful to look both ways. He was mindful about everything, which was how he knew nobody was watching him or Markovich. He also knew Markovich was at home. The GPS anklet kept a reliable 24/7 vigil on his prospect.

For this meeting, Raynor went with a black suit, a black shirt underneath, and dark sunglasses. He knew he looked like a badass, but it was a fitting choice for the business he had come to discuss.

He stepped into a cool marble foyer with a fancy inlaid design fronting a mahogany reception area topped by green marble. The man seated behind the desk wore a rumpled suit and a sleepy expression. Raynor asked to be connected to Ivan Markovich in 3B. The receptionist dialed a number and handed Raynor a white landline phone.

“Who is it?” The voice on the other end sounded gruff, annoyed.

“You don’t know me. But we need to talk.”

A pause first, and then, “Are you police? You can talk to my attorney.”

“The police don’t want to help you. I do.”

“Why?”

“If you have to ask, then I guess I should go.”

“No. Wait. Come up.”

Raynor handed the white phone back to the attendant and was soon on his way up to the third floor. Markovich was waiting at the door to let him in. He was dressed in jeans and an oxford shirt, with loafers on his feet and no socks because they didn’t fit over the ankle monitor gracefully. The chains draped around his neck, same as his Rolex watch, were made of gold.

From the doorway, Raynor took a look around. He expected a bit more opulent décor—perhaps a large jade rhino or a crystal chandelier, something worthy of someone who had conceivably made millions peddling people. The place was nice enough, though. The apartment had wood throughout, and the living room visible from the doorway featured modern looking furniture favoring black leather, but the view wasn’t much to behold.