Payne & Rapture by Phillip Westry Jr

Author:Phillip Westry Jr. [Westry, Phillip Jr.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Mystery, Contemporary Fiction, Thrillers & Suspense, Contemporary, Thriller & Suspense, Suspense, Literature & Fiction, Mystery; Thriller & Suspense
Amazon: B00HC24WQ2
Publisher: WestHouse Publishing
Published: 2013-12-13T05:00:00+00:00

Twenty-two

Tillman

Shit just got real…

Tillman couldn’t get Dasia’s text message out of his head. Lying on his bed with his knees to his chest, he tapped his foot on the NFL themed comforter, waiting for a message beep to come through on his phone. From a distance, he could hear the music from November fest downtown. Raindrops slid down his window like tears on the glass as he stared out into the blur. By now the streets had to be packed with drunk people walking in the roads and standing on top of cars. Except for the moonlight through the window and the glow of his phone, Tillman sat in the dark. TV wasn’t even on. He felt worry swimming in circles in his gut’s stomach acid.

Dasia was out there somewhere.

Ever since he’d known her, she was always on some other shit. Always planning or thinking about some crazy. But there was something about her text that just wouldn’t let Tillman go to sleep. Shit just got real…he remembered it saying. But what, though? What the Hell was she talking about this time? And why won’t she reply? Three times he had texted her back and still hadn’t gotten a response.

Planting his slender feet on the hardwood floor, Tillman remembered Dasia acting weird in the lunchroom today. Don’t think I’m crazy, he recalled her saying. But that was right before Jenny Miller pulled that bullshit stunt. So he never got a chance to hear what Dasia had to tell him. What’s up witchu, D? he silently asked, as if she could somehow hear him inside her head wherever she was. C’mon…text me back.

With every passing minute that Dasia didn’t reply, it got harder and harder to just sit there. The worry gremlin swoshing around his stomach grew bigger every time the clock on his phone changed.

Something was wrong.

He had to do something.

If Dasia wasn’t in trouble, she wouldn’t have sent that text. Wasn’t even the type to play like that. Plus, he still hadn’t forgotten the crazy look on her face at school this morning. How shook she was. Through his bedroom window, Tillman looked for his brother’s Firebird in the driveway. Didn’t see it out there. He probably was at November Fest, pissy drunk with everybody else.

Fuck this…

Tillman tiptoed out into the hall. He avoided the squeaky boards in the dull wood floor, having memorized them perfectly. Weed smoke flared in his nostrils as he crept into the den. Pops had smoked himself to sleep like he’d done almost every night since Mama died. As quietly as he could, Tillman crept by his chair and grabbed a set of keys from the end table drawer. This was his chance. Pops was laid out in the recliner. Mouth wide open. Didn’t look like he’d wake up anytime soon.

Creeping back to his room, Tillman thought about how Dasia had called him every day after his mom passed away. Just to check on him. If he had forgotten his lunch at school, Dasia would split her sandwich with him.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.