Free Unspoken Memories (Unspoken Series) by Gabbie S. Duran Page B

well. I have a feeling I am
going to have a battle ahead of me and I need to prepare myself for war.

 

     
     
    “YOU CURRENTLY HAVE 4.3 million
dollars in your account at your disposal Ms. Adams, why do you ask?” a young
gentleman in his early thirties, dressed in a suit, looking every bit the bank
manager that he is, informs me the next morning.
    I’m still trying to wrap my head around the whole situation,
but I do know one thing for sure, I wasn’t letting Bill get another dollar
anytime soon.
    I’m very sleep deprived, since I didn’t get much of it last
night. I kept going over everything that had happened. It kept me tossing and
turning in my bed, my thoughts going back to Matt.
    I look the manager in the eye. “I need two thousand of it in
cash for myself.”
    Then I hand a small piece of paper with Frank’s requested
amount and account number over to him. “This amount put into that account
number.” After he takes the first small paper, I hand him another with Matt’s
account number. “The rest is to be transferred into this account number. Both
of which are current accounts here at your facility.”
    Eyes wide open, he asks, “What do you mean by the rest,
ma’am?”
    I had a feeling this would happen and was prepared for it.
    With a strong stern voice, I say emphatically, “I. Mean.
All. Of. What’s. Left,” indicating just how serious I am.
    With a horrified look on his face, unbelieving what he’s
heard, he protests, “But, that would mean emptying out your account completely,
ma’am.” His response is just as shocked, as I’m staring him down.
    I have a feeling he’s going to play this game with me all
morning if I let him.
    “I know. I’m looking at it as a very generous donation to
someone who really needs it. It’s only money,” I say, trying to sound like I
don’t care. “I’m pretty sure with my fiancé being my manager, there will be
plenty more to fill it up again soon,” I say with a sarcastic smile on my face.
    He still looks skeptical, but easily gives up.
    “Okay,” he states with an apprehensive look, and tries to
hold himself together as well as he can. “I’ll get the documentation for you to
sign, authorizing the transfer.”
    He quickly stands up and heads to his office door. Once he’s
left his office, I dig into my purse for my phone and I shoot off a text to
Matt.
    I need a favor. A
    After a minute, I receive a response.
    What’s up? M
    I’m going to put some money in your account for
safekeeping. A
    Why my account? M
    I need someone I could trust, is that you? A
    He doesn’t respond immediately, and I’m sitting there
thinking maybe this might be a bad idea after all. But, then I hear the ping of
a response.
    Of course, Pinkie Promise. M
    That’s when I blank out and I’m suddenly pulled into another
memory. I’m sitting on a bed in a little boy’s room and there is a small child
sitting across from me on the bed. It’s Matt, his eyes are red and swollen,
like he’s been crying for a while, and he’s looking at me with desperation on
his face.
    I tell him, “Everything is going to be all right, I’m here
now and I’m never leaving you.”
    He stares into my eyes and says, “Promise?”
    My response to him, without a doubt is, “Pinkie Promise.”
Holding out my pinkie and locking it with his, I hug him with a force promising
not to let go.
    I hear the ping of my phone again, breaking me from the
memory, pulling me back to reality. Why is it that I get these memories like
that, randomly? I’m beginning to appreciate when I was dreaming them, at least
I didn’t spaz out like just did.
    You still there? M
    Yes. I’m still here, Pinkie Promise. A
    Do you need my bank info? M
    No, I already have it. A
    How the hell did you get it? M
    The same guy who gave me your address. ;-) A
    As soon as I hit send on the phone, the bank manager walks
back into the office with all the paperwork in hand. I place the phone back
into my purse as he sits