One Last Bullet by James P. Sumner

Author:James P. Sumner [Sumner, James P.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Action & Adventure, Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, Crime, Thriller & Suspense, Thrillers & Suspense, Vigilante Justice, Spies & Politics, Assassinations, Thriller, Thrillers, Pulp
Amazon: B00O02ZXK6
Publisher: James P. Sumner
Published: 2014-09-26T12:00:00+00:00

17:42

Just over an hour later, we enter Philadelphia. We cross the Delaware River and, after a couple of minutes stuck in some light traffic, we turn right on 46th Street and pull up outside a large, detached white and gray house.

My old family home.

Josh gets out of the Winnebago without a word and stands on the sidewalk, looking at the house. It takes me a minute to join him; a flurry of emotion explodes inside my head like a thunderstorm.

I haven’t seen the house since the day I left. Not since the day I found my wife and daughter murdered on the kitchen floor.

I take a deep breath.

“You alright?” he asks me.

I nod.

“You pissed off at me?”

I shake my head and smile weakly, momentarily lost for words as the occasion proves too much for me.

“Good. This... this is why you’re here, Adrian,” he says, pointing at the house. “No matter how shitty things might look, we both know you will not let your girls down.”

My whole body relaxes, and I stand staring at my old home, a numbing sensation washing over me. I look at the windows, in desperate need of cleaning... the car parked on the drive with a baby seat in the back... the front lawn with the same rosebush that I’d planted the day after me and Janine moved in, still growing strong...

Josh has paced away slowly and aimlessly out of respect, giving me a moment or two alone. As I stare at the place, the image of how it used to look when I lived there bleeds through from the depths of my mind. It gives me a glimpse into the past; a happier time, before my demons had consumed me… before I was so passionate and serious about being a killer... when I had genuine love in my life.

A voice drifts into my thoughts, causing the image to evaporate in front of my eyes.

“Huh?” I say, absently.

“Adrian? Is that you?”

I shake my head to regain total focus and turn to my right. There’s an old man standing next to me, staring at me with a look of disbelief. He’s much shorter than me, with thin, gray hair and light brown eyes. He’s easily eighty years old, dressed in suit pants, with a sweater vest over a white shirt and striped tie.

I frown at him for a moment, confused… Do I know him?

Oh shit—yeah, I do… he’s my old neighbor! Jesus… he remembers me?

What the hell was his name?

“It is you, isn’t it?” he asks again, his voice frail and cracked.

“It’s me,” I confirm after a moment.

“Well, I’ll be... we thought you were dead,” he says. “After what happened... there was a lot of talk from folks ‘round here for a long time afterward...”

He lets his words trail off before extending his hand. I look down and shake it. He nods to me. “It was a goddamn tragedy what happened here,” he says. “I’m truly sorry for your loss.”

I take a deep breath before letting go of his hand.

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