Time To Say Goodbye Excerpt

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by Parker J. Cole

Though tears blurred Gargi’s sight, they could not mask the massive form as it stood outside the curtains. Hastily she wiped at her eyes. “What did you just say?” she repeated. 

The man, hidden somewhat behind the yellow and orange checkered drapes, shoved them aside and stepped into the secluded space. His physical presence gave the distinct impression of causing the room to shrink in response to his girth. 

“I said I hope he rots.” The unmistakable note of unadulterated sincerity scraped at her frayed nerve endings. 

Maybe in other circumstances, at some other time and place, Gargi would have been alarmed to see a strange man peeking at their misery. Yet the last couple of days had taken their toll on her. Dev’s condition threatened his survival. If he lived— 

If he lived… 

The idea, the thought of ‘if,’ wrenched a sob from her. 

Dear Jesus, please let my brother live. Don’t take him from me. 

“Get out of here!” she screeched. “I don’t know who you are and I don’t care. Just go!” 

The man took another step toward her. She felt his intrusion into her personal space like a palpable insertion. He topped Dev by several inches, with broad shoulders, a wide chest straining the dark green T-shirt, and long arms with meaty hands. His dark golden eyes meshed unexpectedly with the red gold of his hair. A well-groomed beard framed the lower half of his jawline. 

“I’m going to go.” The man’s voice had a gruff drawl to it. “You don’t have to know my name, but I will tell you someone else’s name. Alma Bertha Reckley. She may not mean a thing to you and that piece of trash lying there, but she means the world to me.” 

He pointed a long, thick finger at Dev’s prone figure. “That worthless scum stole my mama’s life savings. So, I’ll say it again. I hope he rots.” 

Heat flushed the surface of her skin like lava-flow. A fine trembling wracked her limbs. This man, whoever he was, had no idea what he was talking about. 

“My brother,” she gritted out, “did not steal anything from anyone. He was set up. There were four others involved in this scheme and they implicated him.” 

“Baloney,” the man scoffed. His thin brows arched. “If he was set up, then where are these so-called conspirators? Nowhere to be found.” 

Gargi stomped over to the man, barely conscious of her actions. All she knew was that she wanted to shut him up. 

“Perhaps you don’t understand English well. My brother is innocent. He gave everything of himself to others. Orphanages, charities, churches, the list goes on.” Her arms flung wildly into the air. “How can he be the type to steal from anyone?” 

The man snorted. “People who don’t work for their money tend to part with it faster than those who do. Else, why spend a million dollars on a sports car?” 

A red haze obscured her vision. She snarled like a wild animal. “Get out! You have no right to be here!”  

The man lifted an arrogant eyebrow. It made the heat scorching her skin reach new depths of intensity. Could he see the steam coming out of her ears? Why wasn’t he running away from the violent urges she fought to contain? 

“I think I have every right.” His gruff drawl flattened to a rough tone of scorn. “I want to see him either rot or do the time the good people of the U. S. of A.’s justice system ordered him to do.” 

Every muscle in her face hardened like stone. “Get out of here now before I call security.” 

He shrugged. “Go right ahead.” 

About the Author:

Parker J. ColeParker J. Cole is a writer and radio show host who spends most of her time reading, knitting, writing, cooking, and concocting new ideas for stories. Her first novel, Dark Cherub, won Best of Spring Reading 2013 from eMediaCampaigns. She lives in Michigan with her husband and beloved dog Sarah.

Visit her site at http://www.ParkerJCole.com

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