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7. Chapter Six

Chapter Six

I've read the letter so many times I've memorized it. The ink is smudged in places I hold it. The crease lines are no longer neat. Still, I don't understand it. Not fully. I mean, I read the words and I understand what it says, but it's all so confusing. I've gone back and forth with reaching out to someone about this. Reese maybe. Or my uncle. I wonder if Jackson got a letter too. Doubt it, with the deep shit he's in lately, constantly running from the cops. But maybe he does have one, somewhere. An old address she had for him perhaps? It could be waiting in a mailbox for him and he'll never know.

I fold the letter, shove it back in the envelope, and put it in my nightstand drawer. Grabbing a pair of athletic shorts from my dresser, I quickly change and head downstairs to the small gym. It isn't much, but it's enough to let off some steam. Enough to keep my mind occupied for a short time so I can stop thinking about this. Or maybe think about it clearly and come up with a decision over what to do. Do I talk to someone, or do I forget about it?

I take the elevator to the basement, which is empty as it usually is. There's nothing down here but storage rooms and the gym. Each condo has access to the gym, but I'm the only one who uses it. We each get a storage space that's roughly a 6x6 closet we put our own lock on. Mine is completely empty as I have nothing to put in it. I've noticed the other tenants tend to keep their holiday stuff down here. Christmas trees, Halloween decorations, that sort of stuff. If I decorated for any of those holidays, I'd do the same. We don't have much space in our places to keep stuff like that.

Moving past the row of storage doors, I turn into the gym and swipe at the wall to turn on the lights. I move to the empty corner and stretch my legs, arms, and back. Once I'm done, I get on the treadmill to warm up.

When I found there was a gym down here, I was thrilled. I used to have a subscription to one but couldn't stand how many people were there all the time. Especially people who'd stare. And it's not that I'm self-conscious, my body is in shape, but I hate being watched and stared at like I'm there for entertainment. It throws me off and I can't focus. I just want to work out without being looked at like a piece of meat. Being down here alone? I get the best workouts I've ever had.

I run for twenty minutes, do some push-ups, pull-ups, then weights. In total, I spend about an hour and half down here and I'm sweating when I'm done. Having realized halfway through that I didn't bring water, I figured I'd finish my workout then go upstairs to get it. Which is what I do now. I'm still breathing heavily by the time I get inside my place. I down a bottle of water and grab another which I drink more slowly.

Working out is freeing. It gives my mind a break. It's calm right now. Quiet. Except for the small part of me that's telling me to call my uncle about this letter.

That's the answer I was looking for. It's not exactly the one I wanted, because talking to him about this isn't quite what I wanted to do, but it's the right thing to do. If anyone can help me with this, it's my Uncle Charles. I pull out my cell and call him.

"Long time no talk, Justin."

He's a family guy. Gets upset when we don't keep in touch.

"Yeah, sorry about that. Been busy."

"Aren't we all?"

Uncle Charles has this way of being passive aggressive in the most polite tone. I know he's telling me off for not calling him sooner.

"I suppose so."

"What are you calling for? I know it isn't to catch up."

He also really likes to call you out on your shit. There are no secrets with him. He speaks his mind and almost always knows what's going on in yours.

"I need help with something personal. Are you free?"

"Right now?"

"Yes."

"I'm finishing something up but I'll be done in about an hour. Meet at my place?"

"I'll see you there. Thanks."

He ends the call and I put my phone to charge while I take a quick shower and change. When I'm done, I walk the few blocks to the good diner, grab something quick to eat, and head back to my place. Since Uncle Charles lives at the other end of the city, I need to take my truck. The drive takes me about twenty minutes, and I end up in front of his gates a little over an hour from when I spoke with him.

I wave into the small camera posted on the brick column, and wordlessly, the gates open up. The driveway curves to the right, the house hidden behind large trees that he planted all along the front of the property. Driving up, you'd think you'd happen upon a mansion, but it's far from it. Uncle Charles' house is small and quaint. Like a little cottage nestled in the forest. I park beside his truck and get out. He opens the door before I make it to the front steps. He's much shorter than me but has the same light blue eyes as everyone else in the family. Everyone but me and Jackson, who had a darker shade that must've come from one of our bio parents.

"Nice to see you, Justin."

He gives me a hug and gestures for me to go inside. I haven't seen him in a few years. Last time was when all that shit went down with Ezra, his wife, Reese, and Lawrence Glassi—my old boss. Uncle Charles helped coordinate the entire thing. We've chatted here and there, but that's about it. It's how I like it. He doesn't approve. The Lorenzetti family is slowly dwindling away, and once he goes… it'll be done for good. The only others beside him are his children, and they have no interest in doing what he does. Reese wants no part of it, and neither do I.

"You too, Uncle. Smells good in here."

He smirks and heads down the hall to the back of the house where the kitchen is. His house isn't much bigger than my condo, but he has a ton of shit in here. Antique stuff and weird crap he's collected over the years. Brass candelabras and porcelain statues. There's a moose head on the wall and a bear skin rug in front of his couch. As far as I know, he hasn't hunted in years, but he enjoyed it when he was younger.

"I made tea. Do you want some?" he offers.

I shrug and sit at the small wooden table by the picture window that overlooks his backyard. There isn't much out there except trees, but it's a nice view.

"Sure."

My uncle isn't a large guy and doesn't quite look like he fits into this lifestyle. Jackson and I have always been the biggest in our family, making it even more obvious we don't belong. Not that I've ever felt that way, but I think sometimes no matter how much love an adopted family gives you, deep down, you always know you don't fit as easily as everyone else does. No one has ever made me or Jackson feel that way, it was just always there. I saw it in the small things. Like how Jackson and I are taller and broader than everyone else. How our eyes are that darker shade of blue. The one thing that did make this all feel right was how many twins there were in this family. It was almost like it was meant to be in that sense. A joke everyone told when speaking to people outside the family who didn't know we were adopted.

Uncle puts a large mug down in front of me. It smells like cinnamon and vanilla. He takes the seat across from me, placing his own mug in front of him.

"So what is this about?" he asks, lifting his mug to his lips and taking a sip. It's so quiet and peaceful here. Almost like we aren't in the city at all, but instead hidden away in the woods.

Like a cabin.

That's a whole other issue I don't want to think about right now. It's not why I'm here. I dig in my back pocket and pull out the envelope and pass it to my uncle. He takes it, opens it, and reads it. As he does, there is nothing on his face that gives away how he feels about it. I watch him carefully, looking for a hint of anything. Anger. Curiosity. Disbelief. Shock. Nothing. The man has the best poker face I've ever seen.

When he's done, he puts it down in front of him and flicks his eyes to me.

"What do you think about this?" he asks.

I frown. "I came here to ask you that."

He nods, clasping his hands together. "I figured as much, but I'm asking what you think about it."

I take a deep breath and stare down at my mug. Steam floats upward, the scent calming. I pick it up and take a sip. It's perfect. Uncle Charles makes the best tea. It's something comforting I remember from my childhood. I'd tried replicating it, but I can't. No matter how hard I try.

"I'm not sure I have an opinion on it just yet, but I do have questions."

"Like?" he asks.

"Like why did she wait so long? I've been an adult for a long time, this information could have been given to me at any time. Especially if she knew what I was doing, she could have shared this sooner. Who is she involved with? Who killed her? How did she get someone to send this after she died?"

Uncle Charles nods. "All valid questions and things I was wondering about too."

"Do you know who she is?" I ask.

"I do not. I'm not sure your parents did either, but you know you can get that information easily if you want it."

I did know that. Always have.

"Is it worth looking into?" I ask.

"Depends what you want to get out of it, I suppose." He picks up the letter giving it a little shake. "This suggests someone could be after you. Getting a head start and gathering information on who that could be isn't a bad idea. As for everything else? I guess that's something you need to figure out."

I nod, taking another sip of my tea. I swear this shit is better than alcohol.

"I'm going to be leaving soon. Heading to California to be with Reese, I think. At least closer to him. I can't do this shit anymore." My uncle nods, understanding crossing his face. "I can't bring shit like this to his family though. To Ezra's family. I need to figure it out before I go."

"Reach out to Banks as soon as you can. I'll see if I can find anything from your parents. I have all their important files."

We don't share much conversation after that. We finish our tea. He puts the letter away and hands it to me. When I leave, we share a hug, he tells me I better not wait so long to talk to him again, and he'll reach out when he has any information.

The moment I'm off his property, I call Banks and tell him what I'm looking for. He laughs, telling me it's the easiest job he's had all day. He's the know-it-all tech guy who works with the Bellancas. He worked with Ezra and Reese in another family previously, but he too made it out. There isn't a thing the guy can't find or do. Sometimes I think he isn't human. Don't really care what he is as long as he gives me the info I need.

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