The Book of Brooke

Chapter 5

I try to put what happened with Jacob out of my mind, but it doesn't work. He's just too hot for me to handle. Thankfully, I'm pulled out of my thoughts by my neighbour, Corey. He's a pretty average guy. We hang out sometimes and we're close enough to be called friends, but we can't communicate telepathically or anything and I wouldn't call him a best friend.

"Hey Brooke." He says. He raises an eyebrow at me and stops. "Are you alright?"

"What?" I ask before noticing that I'm probably really flushed and red from thinking about Jacob.

"Your face." He says with a genuine concern. "You're all red."

"Oh it's nothing, I just came from the gym." I lie.

"In high heels?" Corey asks. "And I thought you said you were going to work."

I roll my eyes. "Fine, I'll tell you. But don't tell anyone."

"Okay. What's going on?"

I pull him aside into the corner of the hallway, looking around to make sure that nobody is watching us. When I'm sure that we're alone, I lean in close to Corey, our faces no more than a couple of inches apart. He leans in to kiss me, but I push his face away before he can.

"What are you doing?" I ask.

"I thought--" Corey stutters. "Nevermind. What's going on?"

"My boss. I almost had sex with my boss."

"What?!" Corey says way too loud.

"Shh! Keep your voice down, Corey."

"Sorry." He returns to what I just said. "But sex? With Mr. Cohen?"

"Yeah. It was crazy. I had to try so hard to resist him."

"How did you do it?" Corey asks. "If I were you, I would ride him like a Ferrari."

"He's my boss, Corey. That, and I thought about what Garrett would say. I know I shouldn't care since he's a murderer and all, but he's still my brother and I still cared about him at one point."

Corey stands up straight, breaking the little huddle that we were in.

"You should go and visit him."

"What?"

"I'm serious. Go and visit your brother. Get the closure that you need." Corey tells me. "I mean it, Brooke. Go visit him."

"Are you sure?"

"Only if you are."

"But the prison is so far and--"

"I'll drive you."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. Why not? We're friends, right?"

"I guess we are."

*

Corey drives me all the way to the prison holding Garrett. I'm nervous the entire way there and try to convince him that today isn't a visiting day, but Corey knows better and tells me that he already checked and the prison is open to visitors.

"What if he doesn't want to see me?" I ask.

"He's literally in prison. He doesn't have a choice."

When we pull up to the prison, I force myself to shake away my nerves. Corey manages to help me calm down a bit and we pass by the guards and the police as we enter. After a lengthy process of being searched for weapons or drugs, we're led to a room with a bunch of chairs facing thick, glass windows with phones by their sides.

One of the guards leads me to one of the booths and I wait.

Within a couple of minutes, I see him. Garrett. He's got my same thick brown hair and the same skin tone, although he's gotten a bit paler since I saw him last. He's still got the stubble that he always did and although I know that the showers must be cold, he looks clean. The sleeves of his crewneck sweater are rolled up to the elbow and he's wearing the same beige pants as the rest of the inmates.

Garrett sits down and picks up the phone, and I do the same.

"You're here." He says in disbelief. "I didn't think you would come and visit me."

"I didn't either." I say.

We sit in silence for a moment, unsure of what to say to each other, but I finally break the silence.

"Why did you do it?" I ask. "Why did you kill her?"

"I had to." He says, suddenly grave.

"You didn't."

"I did."

"What are you talking about, Garrett?"

He suddenly leans in, even though it won't make a difference because the only way that we can hear each other is through the phone. He looks around. There's only one other person beside him, an older looking man talking to what looks to be his daughter sitting a couple seats down and a guard with a taser and a baton strapped to their belt.

"He would have killed us both if I didn't." Garrett says.

"Who? Who would have killed you both?" I ask.

"Blackjack." Garrett tells me.

"Who?"

"Blackjack." He says again. "Listen, I borrowed some money and it turns out that it was from a mobster named Blackjack. Long story short, things got really complicated and I got in deep and I couldn't get out and now my wife is dead and I'm in jail."

"Slow down, Garrett. You're involved in the mafia? Why didn't you say anything during your trial? You might have gotten a lighter sentence, or even gone free!"

"And just get killed by the guys that Blackjack has in here? Or if I went free they would have just killed me out there. I'm safe here, Brooke. Don't ruin that."

"What do I do with this information, Garrett?"

"Nothing. You sit on it and you die with it. It's not worth it. If anyone finds out you know anything, you'll be killed. Keep your mouth shut, Brooke."

"Okay, okay. I will."

I have no intention of keeping my mouth shut.