Page 103 of Forgotten Comeback

“That’s our time. For this week, I want you to journal on that question: ‘Why is it scary to let someone love me?’”

The topic is shoved out of my mind as I drive to Kat’s condo. Checking my forwarded mail, it’s bill, bill, bill. But the last envelope from an insurance company catches my eye.

Opening it, I grab the check, my eyes going wide at the zeros.Pay to the order of Taylor McKenna.The note line includes the renters insurance claim number.

Renters insurance? Did I have renters insurance? Who cares; this will put a nice dent in my debt!

There’s a sticky note attached to the back of the check.

The family takes care of our own. Unless you’re not one of our own…

Bribed and threatened in the same breath; I should have known it was too good to be true. Unlocking the condo, I enter the kitchen, but no Bonnie. Panic floods my body.

The mob wouldn’t kidnap my cactus…right?

My fingers tremble as I pull up Gavin’s contact and send him a message.

Do you know where Bonnie is?

Bubbles appear as I pace back and forth.

Yeah, the movers took her and all your things to your place this morning.

I let out a huge sigh of relief.

Why didn’t you tell me?

Got distracted when you asked me to masturbate with you.

I roll my eyes with a grin, my thumbs flying over my keyboard.

Go fuck yourself.

Later. I can’t right now.

And I can’t help but laugh.

Locking up behind me, I drive to my favorite art gallery, browsing for a wedding gift. Nothing catches my eye, and so I stop at the art store and buy an empty frame and canvas, scrawling an IOU over it.

With a gift bag in the front seat, I follow the GPS directions down the shore, continuing my audiobook.

Hold on, Father, because I’m about to take you to heaven.

Sister straps on her dildo…

Nope, enough of that.

I arrive at a showstopper of a beachfront property, with a security guard there to greet me at the gate. He motions for me to roll my window, and I do so. “Identification,” he says gruffly.

“Um, sure,” I say, fumbling for my wallet. Handing it over, I wait for him to eyeball me before checking something off a list and returning my license.

He silently walks around my car, peering inside before returning to my window. “Pop your trunk.”

I do as he commands, but if the guy breaks out gloves for an anal probe, I’m outta here. After my vehicle and I pass inspection, I’m instructed to pull through the gate, where another security guard directs me to park.

I’m already stressed by the time I step out of my car, and I haven’t even seen Kat’s husband yet.

Reaching the backyard gate, I’m halted by yet another guard. “Purse,” he tells me gruffly, and I sigh, handing it over. He rifles through it, when I spot Kat bounding my way.