Page 97 of My Heart Still Beats
“Good. Now run back to the sacristy, and wait for Father Sam.”
…
This is a secret between you and me and God. He’ll never forgive you if you tell, and you won’t get your first communion.
The words plummet back into my mind as if they were uttered yesterday instead of fifteen years ago.
How did I forget?
How?
This didn’t happen.
I remember my first communion. I remember taking the wafer, the wine—which tasted awful—and then turning around and seeing Mommy, Da, Nana, and Eva all watching me.
I remember all of that, so why didn’t I remember that damned altar boy?
“Tessa?” Ben says. “Are you okay? You’re shaking—are you not warming up?”
I swallow back the memory, rub my arms against the chills that aren’t from the cold plunge.
I can’t answer him. All I do is swallow and nod.
Once I’m warm, I excuse myself.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Ben
Fifteen Years Earlier…
I’m sick to death of my life. I don’t trust Dirk and his cronies as far as I can throw any of them. But the convenience store? Really?
They’re dumber than I thought.
Rob a place that never closes, that has security cameras everywhere? Not too bright.
A couple weeks ago, Dad sent me on an errand to a warehouse to pick up supplies. While I was there, I made a discovery.
Cash.
About fifty Gs total.
I found it stashed behind a piece of plywood covering the drywall on the far side of the warehouse where the two-by-fours are located.
I wasn’t looking for it. The guy at the front desk knows me and lets me grab what I need if it’s a small order. I wasn’t in any hurry to get back on the job, so I took my time…and I found the cash.
Whether it belongs to the guy who owns the warehouse or one of the employees, I have no idea.
But it’s there. I know it’s there. And I know how to get into the warehouse.
I saw the clerk enter the lockbox code once when he was closing at the same time I left. I memorized the code. Not on purpose or anything. I have one of those brains. I remember things.
No one will be at the warehouse at night. We won’t have to hold anyone up.
And I can sure use my share of fifty grand. The first thing I’m buying is a fucking case of beef jerky.
“Keep talking, Black,” Dirk says.
