Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 105709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Jesus Christ, what now? I follow him to his bike parked out the front of the bakery and side-eye him when he hands me a helmet.
“Am I going to rob Olive of her father?” It's a joke, but when Hella doesn't laugh or crack a smile, my nerves twitch. “Jesus, what? Is it Millie? Is she—”
His face changes. “Shit, no, baby. Hell no. It's not about her.”
I breathe out a sigh. “Okay.” and then climb on behind him, arms wrapping around his waist. The engine roars to life between my thighs, vibration shooting straight through me. He kicks off, and we tear into traffic, weaving between cars.
We fly through the suburbs until he takes a sharp turn through wired gates with the words Saint's Cemetery.
My stomach plummets as I replay his promise about Millie being alive. My fingers bite into his cut as he leads us down a small section that breaks off from the main.
Stopping beneath a Pohutukawa tree, my breathing levels as he cuts the engine.
I carefully pluck the helmet from my head as he helps me off the bike. “Why are we here?”
He reaches into his pocket, pulling out a photo. “Sorry it took me so long to tell you this. At first, I wanted to make sure I had the facts. Maybe he was still alive and I could give you something back that the world robbed you off as a child, but—”
I recognise the photo instantly. “My father.”
“Yeah.” Hella clears his throat. “I knew him, Melissa. I know that sounds fucked up, but I knew him.”
“What?” I can't take my eyes off the photo. “Impossible. How?”
I remember that day like it were yesterday. We were at an All Blacks game, and Millie was stroppy, complaining about the heat and refusing to get in the photo, so Mum snapped it of the two of us. It was a version of him I rarely saw, but one I hold close.
“When I was a teenager, my father shot my mother dead before blowing his own brains out.” My heart drops, but he continues. “I left for the streets. Knew I'd have shit luck int he system since I was too old and I'd rather not be controlled. Almost died one night. Bunch of assholes beat me, and it was your dad who saved me. Took me in.”
I shake my head. “Wait, no, he died in a car accident.”
Hella holds my attention in a way I know means he's going to deliver some hard truths. “He didn't, baby. He never spoke often of his life before, but he mentioned you all once. Said something about being better off without him and at least your ma had the insurance money, Melissa, listen—”
His arm snakes around my waist as he kisses my forehead. “The night I was taken by Vanguard, they hurt him bad. At the time, I thought he was dead, but the world we live in, people come back more often than not so after I'd figured out who you were, I tried to find him. Looked fucking everywhere I could.”
“And did you?” I ask, a whisper that can be felt right down to my toes. “Find him?”
He brushes my cheek gently. “I did, baby, and I'm sorry.”
Hope crushes my lungs as I rest against his chest. “Thank you for trying but fuck you for keeping this from me.”
It would have been nice to have him around right now. Especially with Millie, but that means I'd have another person to lie to, just like I am to my mum.
I sniff. “What are we doing here?”
He pulls back a little. “Well, this might sound fucking stupid, but since I can't physically bring him to you, I did something. I thought about Olive, and how she should know the people who would have loved her.” He takes my hand and leads me through gravestones and flowers.
The headstone sits under a twisted oak, its roots clawing through the earth like desperate fingers.
Joshua “Tippy” Hart
Loved by all who knew him, cherished and lived on through his girls Melissa, Millie, and Olive.
My knees hit the dirt before I realize I’m falling. The letters blur through the wetness in my eyes, each one a knife twist. My chest caves in, ribs too tight around lungs that won’t expand.
I dig my fingers into the dirt like I could anchor myself to the ground, to this moment, to the ghost of a man who should’ve been here, and to my sister who I've lost more than once in a lifetime.
“Hey!” Hella scoops me up, kissing my head. “I know.”
I don't know how long we sit there, but it's dark and the tears have dried. “Thank you.”
Hella tightens his grip around me. “Always.”
I sniff, pushing up from his chest and staring down at him. “We should probably go.”
He leans up and kisses me on the cheek. “Yeah, you're right. Olive has probably talked Riley's ears right off.”