He would so write me a fake letter to that address.
Just because he knew that I’d go running after it.
But… what if it wasn’t a joke? What if it was real?
Doubts assaulted me as I drove to the address that I’d had texted to me.
By the time that I arrived at her house about twenty minutes later, I was panting, on the verge of tears, and hoping that this was a new letter and not an old one that’d just gotten lost in the mail.
After an ungodly amount of time waiting for her to answer the door, she handed me the letter, grimaced at me, and then closed the door in my face.
I didn’t care about her attitude or her obvious dislike of meeting new people.
All I cared about was the paper envelope in my hand.
The moment I got to my car, I instantly tore into the letter.
On the outside, it only had my name and the old PO Box address on it.
On the inside, though…
My breath hitched and my breathing sped as I looked at the familiar handwriting.
Through a blur of tears, I started to read.
Sierra,
I know that this is going to come as a surprise, but I’m alive.
Almost two years ago now, I was captured and held as a prisoner of war. I was there for over two years with a few men from my unit.
You want to know the really funny thing? If you can call a case of mistaken identity funny. My friend, whom I told you that looked like me? He was apparently wearing my dog tags when they pulled him out of that hellhole we’d been kept in for all that time. When he got home, he had no memory of who he was or what had happened. So they assumed he was me since he was wearing my tags.
He lived my life for quite a while before his fiancée finally figured out that he was him, and not me. If that makes even a little bit of sense.
Anyway, when I finally came home, I was fucked-up. Still am, honestly.
After some recovery time, I am now working as a police officer.
It took me a while to get my head on straight, but now that it kind of is, I wanted to write you and let you know that I’m not dead.
I know that you would want to know.
I also didn’t remember the other address that you sent to me. The one that we used to use to communicate when you got out of your English class.
So I sent it to this one, and I’m hoping that it gets to you.
Gabriel
My breathing was choppy by the time that I finished the letter, and my eyes were misting as I slowly flipped the paper over to look for a return address. Only, there wasn’t one.
There was no return address!
What the absolute hell!
I flipped over the torn apart envelope and almost groaned.
I’d ripped right through the return address in my haste to open it.
It was on the back flap.
“Fuck!” I cried as I tried to piece it back together.
The address itself was gone.
I could make out the ‘PO BOX’ and the ‘TX’ as well as Gabriel, but the rest was doomed.
I needed help.
I drove straight for my brother’s place, barging in without knocking.
My brother was on his back on the couch drinking a beer. Louis, our cousin, was right next to him in the recliner.
“Get up!” I cried. “I need your help, STAT!”
Louis frowned and stood up, thankfully fully clothed, and looked at me.
“What’s wrong?” Louis asked, looking annoyed that I’d just barged straight into the room without knocking.
My brother sighed and placed both of his hands onto his face, groaning into them.
“She’s fucking nuts, that’s what,” Sammy muttered.
I ignored him and walked to where he was standing.
“I need help deciphering this address.” I was almost crying. “I need help.”
“You already said that, dumbass.” Sammy snatched the paper out of my hands, and the envelope tore more.
“Samuel!” I wailed, now frantic. “Don’t!”
Sammy, realizing that I wasn’t fucking playing, froze.
“Jesus, what the fuck, Sie?” he asked, looking at me like I’d lost my fucking mind.
I had.
“It’s from Gabriel.” I sniffled. “He wrote me back.”
He narrowed his eyes. “The dumbass that stopped talking to you for two years? That one? The one that you cried about for a whole entire year because you missed talking to him?”
Sammy’s anger didn’t surprise me.
He thought that I should’ve moved on a long time ago.
It was only a pen pal, according to him.
But Gabriel and I were more than pen pals.
We were best friends.
And now, after reading that information he’d written in the letter, I had to write him back.
Had to.
He had to know that I still cared.
Sammy muttered something vicious as he saw my tears, and he slowly took the letter back from me and started to read it.
He stiffened as he read it, and I ignored him as I showed the envelope to Louis who actually looked like he cared.
He took it into the kitchen, and I slowly followed, dread a large knot in my gut.
“It says Texas, at least,” he said as he studied it under the better light of the kitchen.
I knew that part.
“I know,” I said. “I’m fairly sure I can make out the first two numbers in the PO Box, too.”
“It says 3939,” he murmured. “The city is different, though. Not Kilgore.”
“No,” I agreed. “It’s not.”
“For it to have that large of a PO Box number, it’s got to be somewhere where there’s a bigger city. This says L at the beginning.”
“There are over a hundred fifty cities in Texas that start with L.” Sammy muttered. “About thirty of them are big enough for that many PO boxes.”
So that was how we narrowed down our search to seven places over the next hour.
And a half-hour after that, we narrowed it down to one, thanks to Sammy totally pulling out his cop badge and calling around acting like he was important.
“Longview,” Sammy said with a grin, waving the paper. “There’s a Gabriel Stokes in Longview at that PO Box.”
My entire heart went erratic.
“That’s so close!” I cried out.
Sammy and Louis shared a look.
One that I couldn’t quite decipher.
“What’s that look for?” I asked them both.
Both shook their heads.
It was Sammy who, of course, said something.
“I’m just wondering whether you writing him back is a good idea,” he admitted.
I snatched up my letter, my newly written down address, and downed the rest of my beer before heading to the door.
“Nobody really asked you, now did they, Sammy?” I grumbled as I walked out the door.
My mind was on other things as I drove home. Mainly the fact that Gabriel was so freakin’ close to me that I might as well be in the same city as him.
Nerves vibrating, I drove up to my place and nearly groaned when I saw Mark, my boyfriend’s, car there with him still in it.
Soon-to-be ex-boyfriend, now.
See, Mark didn’t want the same things as me.
Mark wanted to live his life. He wanted me in it. What he did not want was any children with me.
He wanted to get married. He wanted to move into a big house. And he wanted to travel.
None of that included a child, which I desperately wanted.
I was a nurse in the NICU. I worked with babies every day.
I loved babies.
Mark, however, hated them.
He didn’t want anything to do with them.
And that was driving a huge wedge between us.
At first, I thought that I would be able to deal with the not having kids thing. Especially seeing as I worke
d with them sixty hours a week. But then, as the babies got better and moved along with their parents, ready to start their lives all fresh and innocent, I realized that there would be no denying it.
I wanted a child.
I wanted multiple children, actually.
And if that was a deal breaker for him, well then, he was a deal breaker for me.
When I pulled up into my driveway, Mark didn’t even bother getting out of the car.
“Hey, where have you been?” he asked when I walked toward him.
He’d rolled the window down halfway. I could barely see his face through the tint.
Even as it was, I had to bend down to even see into his car.
He drove one of those low-slung cars that you had to plug in to use.
Sure, it was good for the environment, but it looked so out of place, especially in my neighborhood.
“I had something to do. I’m sorry I didn’t even think to call you.” I frowned. “Are you getting out of the car?”
He shook his head. “No, I only had about an hour to see you.” That annoyed me because we’d planned on dinner. How were we going to have dinner in that short of a time period? “I have a conference call on this case that I’m working on. I’m just going to take it right here. Then I’m going to head home and get some sleep.”
Mark was a detective with the Longview Police Department. He was a super good guy, great at his job, but he just… was married to it, I guess.
Fine by me.
I really didn’t want to see him today anyway.
“Okay,” I said, standing up.
Without another word, I walked inside.
“Hey! I still have about fifteen minutes!” he cried. “Could you at least unplug my car before you go?”
I ignored him, waved at him over my shoulder without turning around, and headed inside.
I had a letter to write. He could unplug his own stupid car from the outlet.
CHAPTER 2
Blow me.
-Dandelion
MALACHI
Gabriel,
Oh. My. God.
I can’t believe that it’s you!
I’ve been unbelievably worried about you.
When my teacher called me today to tell me that I had a letter from you, I couldn’t drive fast enough to get it.
I have always had you in the back of my mind since the moment that you first started writing me. And these last two years have been hell, wondering how you were.
I’m sorry to hear that you’ve had such a rough time of it. I know that you were extremely vague with what happened, but if you ever need to talk… to write? I’m the perfect reader/listener. I’ll never judge you for the things that you say.
So how has my life changed?
I got my bachelor’s degree in nursing about two years ago.
My brother is also on a SWAT team.
Blue is being a typical teen. Mean girls on steroids.
My parents are doing great. They’re actually getting ready to fly to Scotland to visit ‘my dad’s roots’ with my dad’s brothers and their wives.
Hmm, what else?
Oh, I work with babies now!
That’s actually one of the reasons that I want to break up with my boyfriend.
Well, almost ex-boyfriend.
I’m literally about to break up with him as we speak. Today he came over just so he could use the front of my place to park. For some weird reason, we have one of those plug-ins that you can charge your electric car. I think that my landlord had it put in for his wife to use when she was working.
My soon-to-be-ex uses it as a spot where he can plug his car in and get things done at the same time.
Instead of coming inside and spending time with me, he sits in his car and works.
But that’s not the why of the about-to-be breakup.
He doesn’t want children, and I do.
I want them badly.
Badly enough that I’m considering doing it on my own.
That’s pretty funny, isn’t it?
Anyway, while you were away, I wrote you a ton of letters. I’m posting those today, too. I sent you a package.
And while we’re on the subject of sending packages…
Did you know that your PO Box is in the town over from Kilgore? We’re literally twenty-five minutes away from each other!
If you ever want to meet up for coffee? I’m here. Or if you want to talk.
Anything.
I’ll put my new address on the back of this paper. The PO Box will get it to me, but I’m sure my old teacher won’t really want me using her PO Box anymore.
Hope this letter finds you well,
Sierra.
• • •
“Why can’t you just give me a warning?” the young punk that had been speeding through a school zone asked.
What I should’ve done was explain to him in simple, easy terms that ‘warnings’ were for people that weren’t being complete dumbasses like him.
Instead, I looked at him until he had the decency to sputter and apologize.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“As for why I’m not giving you a warning,” I drawled. “You had three infractions that I could see when you were driving—too fast—through the school zone. One, you were speeding. In fact, you weren’t speeding just a little bit. You were going forty-six in a twenty.”
The kid winced.
“Two, you were on your cell phone, which has been illegal in Texas since 2018,” I continued. “Had you turned it to Bluetooth, it would’ve been fine, however.”
The kid’s face flushed.
“Three, you didn’t yield to the children in the crosswalk,” I continued. “Had the crossing guard not been paying attention to your speeding self, he might’ve had three children ran over right in front of him.”
Now the kid’s face went utterly white.
“Those three children are all under the age of five,” I continued. “Which, might I add, would’ve been manslaughter or attempted manslaughter had you not killed them with how fast you were going.”
The kid’s shoulders slumped.
“Now,” I said softly. “I’m issuing you a citation for failure to yield to a person at the crosswalk. Speeding. And another one for talking on your cell phone in a school zone.”
After the kid left, I made sure to walk carefully back to my cruiser and return to my previous position near the school zone line.
To calm myself down so I wouldn’t lose my shit and follow the stupid little punk after his parting comment of ‘fuck off,’ I pulled out the notebook that I’d started writing the letter to Sierra on and scrambled through the shit on the seat next to me for a pen.
Finally finding one, I started to write.
Sierra,
Why can’t you just have your own baby?
Dude sounds like a complete and utter douche.
Dump him and do it on your own. Women are badasses nowadays. Sounds like you’re very capable of being one, too.
I’m happy that you were finally able to graduate and do what you love.
You always talked about working with babies, and now it sounds like you have your dream job.
I’m not doing my dream job anymore, but I find that I’m okay with that.
As for where I live, I actually live on the outskirts of Kilgore. Since I despise going to the Walmart in Kilgore, I usually head into Longview to get all my shopping done. I also keep my PO Box in Longview since I’m there so much.
Since when do you live in Kilgore? Harmony and Kilgore are nowhere near each other!
G.
After writing my letter, I waited for the school zone time period to end before heading to the post office. After posting my letter, I then went back to work looking for something to do.
But with today being as shitty as it was—rain, rain, more rain, and a cold front on the way—there just weren’t that many people out and about today.
Giving me plenty of time to think
of things that I wanted to say and ask Sierra the next time that we spoke.
• • •
The last fucking thing that I wanted to do later that day was deal with yet another dumbass driving teenager that thought that they knew better than an adult.
Luckily, I wasn’t the first on scene to the wreck, meaning that I didn’t have to deal with the majority of the paperwork.
When I arrived on scene, a vaguely familiar brown-haired woman was standing on the side of the road next to her pretty fucked-up car, and a teenager was standing next to his shiny new Ford F-150 looking like he’d messed up. Big time.
“What happened?” I asked the first officer that I got to.
He was a rookie cop that looked like he was so wet behind the ears that I wanted to offer him a paper towel.
“Fifteen-year-old driving without a license.” He gestured to the kid. “Hit the lady. The lady said that he was texting and driving. He says that he wasn’t. Parents are on their way.”
“Do you need me?” I asked as I looked at the brown-haired woman.
Man, she looked familiar. Like I should know her from somewhere.
Yet, I couldn’t quite place where I knew her.
“I don’t.” The rookie shook his head. “This is all wrapped up for now, at least. Just waiting on the kid’s parents.”
I nodded, taking one last look at the brown-haired woman before heading to my car.
Except, when I glanced her way, it was to find her staring at me.
Her eyes were pissed, and I thought for a moment that it was at me.
Then I heard what the kid was saying.
“…think she might’ve come into my lane a little bit.”
Ahh, the kid that hit her was trying to cover his ass.
I winked at her and kept walking, causing her to blink at me owlishly.
When I got into my cruiser and headed back to work, I had one last thought that wasn’t making all that much sense.
I wonder if she’s single.
CHAPTER 3
Oh, the places I’ll throw up today.
-Sierra’s secret thoughts
SIERRA
G?
I’ve never seen you sign your letters like that before. I kind of like it.
What do you think of the nickname Gabby—Gabe—ee. Long e sound?
Nobody Knows Page 2