Leather Bound Read online

  Is it worth hurting her again? His thoughts drifted to telling Jen about the contract. But, she wants you to succeed. I don’t think she will tell you to turn it down. She knows how hard you worked. The angel on the left of his shoulder retorted.

  He sat in traffic staring out the window as he drove across the bridge. He took the short route home, pulled into the driveway, and shut off the car.

  As he walked onto the porch he saw a small package. He leaned down and picked it up. It wasn’t heavy, and it didn’t have a return address. “Fan mail?” He asked himself with a laugh as he unlocked the door. Once inside, he tossed his keys into a bowl and sat the box on the kitchen counter.

  He thought about calling Jen to see if she’d ordered anything but thought better of it. Tom pulled his pocket-knife out and cut open the box, being careful of what was inside. He pulled the lid open and peered inside. Whatever it was, it was wrapped up in paper. There was an envelope on top of it. He opened it and found a small card.

  “We apologize that it took so long for this to find you. We just now finished the process of binding the pages. It wasn’t easy but they’re all together. Just be careful, the leather casing could still be a little fragile. Enjoy.” He read the card aloud. He sat the card aside and pulled a book out of the box. The book was covered in what appeared to be parchment wrapping.

  “What in the world?” He sat the book on the counter and unwrapped it. The leather binding was a beautiful matte black that reflected the light. He noticed the engraving and leaned closer. The Roads Calling: An autobiography By William Hall.

  He pulled his phone out of his pocket and hit one of the speed dial buttons. It rang twice and Jason picked up.

  “Did you already make up your mind?”

  “Not yet, hey I have a question. Did you send a book to my house?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Tom reached up and pulled the book toward him. “I got a book in the mail today. It was wrapped in real fancy parchment wrapping paper. It’s called The Roads Calling it’s written by a guy named William Hall.”

  “I’ve never heard of him. Does it have a decent cover?”

  “No, it’s leather bound and plain, almost like it was published just for this guy. I’m obviously not this guy.”

  “You don’t think it’s someone trying to get you to read their work is it?”

  “I don’t know. It could be, but I find that kind of unlikely.”

  “Just be careful, don’t want you to get caught up in something you can’t get out of.”

  “Thanks for the concern.”

  Tom hung up the phone and stuck it back in his pocket. Tom pulled the book over to the of the counter and sat down. He could tell that the cover was old, which meant that the card was outdated. He pulled the cover back and sat down looking at the first few pages.

  “To my family and friends I’ve left behind. I wasn’t the man that you thought I was. I’ve lived what some would call a double life the last few years. The fact is there are a lot of secrets I’ve been holding onto, I’ve been hoping that would almost never see the light of day but the fact is, I want to share them. I want those who knew me best to realize that the monster that I was.

  Also, please realize that should you be reading this book, I’m no longer living. I’ve done a lot of bad things, things that are very hard to live with. Or at least they should be. I hope that this book brings a little closure to those of you who have questions. I love you and hope that one day you’ll find peace.”

  Tom re-read the beginning again, confused. He closed the book and turned it over. The other side was bare. There’s got to be a copyright date on this somewhere. He thought as he scanned the inside. After some searching he found the small copyright logo on the third page. Published in 2004.

  “I was 21. Why am I getting this book now?” He had a lot of questions in his head. Instead of reading the book, he wanted to satisfy his curiosity. He went to the computer to learn more about William Hall.

  Chapter 6

  On his computer, Tom went to the search bar and took the easy route. He typed in the name “William Hall.” He waited for a moment for the search results to come back. When they did, they almost took his breath away.

  He scrolled through them and each one of them started with a similar tag line. “William Hall tied to several missing people and unsolved murders through the mid to late 90’s.”

  Tom clicked one of the links and read.

  “It’s been confirmed today that William Hall, better known by an alias of Bill the Butcher, is being linked to more then two dozen deaths and disappearances across four states in the last 20 years.

  The story broke after an autobiography, appearing to be written by William, found its way to several family members over the last few weeks. It’s rumored that at least six copies of the book made it to different family members. Some of them have come forward and spoken about the contents.

  All of them are sharing similar information from the book. This includes names, dates, and locations where victims might be located. If the book is to authentic, 16 unsolved murders may have gotten justice. Also, it’s rumored that at least another dozen missing people may be located because of the book.”

  Tom leaned back. “Holy shit.” He turned and looked at the book with a mix of awe and disgust.

  Why the hell did I get this? He paused as he heard the door open. He stared through the small hallway as Jennifer rounded the corner into view. She smiled at him as she came into the room, stopping at the counter. She took a glance from the book, to Tom.

  “I don't have the slightest idea. I came home, and it was in a box on the front step.”

  “What is it?” She asked running her finger over the leather cover.

  “Apparently it’s an autobiography of now notorious serial killer William Hall.”

  She looked at the book and then back at him. “Why do you have it?”

  “That’s a good question. One I don’t have an answer to right now.”

  “I’m still lost.”

  “In a nutshell? Everything I’ve read says these books were delivered to his family 11 years ago. I’m still unsure how, or why this copy came to me.”

  “Could it be for whoever was here before us?”

  “That would make sense, if we hadn’t lived in this house almost four years.”

  She looked back at the book, finding herself still feeling the leather-bound cover.

  “What are you going to do with it?”

  “With the book?”

  She pulled her fingers back, almost like she’d broken its hold over her. Now her face filled with a look of dread, almost like she was afraid of what the book might do. “Yeah, are you going to keep it or send it back?”

  “I can’t send it back even if I wanted to, there was no return address.”

  “Are you going to read it?”

  “I don’t see why not, who knows it might spark something in me…” He trailed off.

  “What do you mean spark something in you?”

  There was no way around it. He had to tell her at this point. He motioned to a chair next to him. “Sit down, I want to tell you about my meeting with Jason.”

  Chapter 7

  Jennifer stared at him. “Should I be worried? You’re kind of scaring me.”

  “Let’s just say, this meeting could be a life changer.”

  She looked at him now with a mix of confusion and angst. “Why do I have to sit down?”

  “Trust me, you'll want to.”

  She did as he asked her. “So what’s going on?”

  “First, Jason already sell the paperback rights to The World Within. I don’t know how he did it but he said it had a lot to do with the strong sales numbers that were coming in on the release.”

  “That’s amazing, what did they offer for them.”

  “I’ll be honest I didn’t quite get that far.”

  “How? That’s a huge thing you forgot to ask about.”


  He took a breath, he could sense what was coming but didn’t want to hit it head on. “It wasn’t that I forgot about it, it was that there was another piece of information that he shared with me that took my mind away from it.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I got offered a new publishing contract with Doubleday Publishing.”

  “Baby, that’s amazing.” She jumped off the chair and threw her arms around him. He embraced her and smiled.

  “Yeah, I thought so too. They offered me a three book hybrid contract. I will retain all electronic rights to all of my work. I can publish e-books as I want. They will handle the bookstore distribution. Doubleday is a huge company, with massive reach, and deep pockets.”

  “What does that mean for you?”

  “It means they offered me $400,000 per book for the first three books, with the option for a fourth. It’s a contract guaranteeing us over a million dollars.” He paused catching his breath after saying the last sentence that kind of number still hadn’t sunk in.

  She almost hit the floor herself. She leaned back against the chair and sat down.

  “That’s an insane amount of money.”

  “I know.”

  “Did you already sign the contract?”

  “No, because there was a catch to a contract that good.”

  “I figured, what is it?”

  “They want me to have my next book drafted and ready for them in two months.”

  “That’s quick.”

  “I said the same thing. Here’s the problem, if I sign this contract. We will have to put our vacation on hold for a while. At least until I can get this next project done.” He saw the disappointment on her face and quickly went on. “But, we don’t have to. You tell me no, and I won’t sign the contract. I’ll stick with Jodi and tell her we’ll get the next book ready after I get back and settled.”

  There was a long pause. Tom watched, trying to read her expression but he couldn’t. Then she spoke up.

  “Take the deal. I want that vacation, but there’s no way I will let you pass up a chance to move your career that far ahead.”

  “Are you sure?”

  There was slight hesitation. “Yeah, I’m positive.” He could hear her disappointment but he took the acceptance as a good sign. He walked over and gave her a hug. It had been a fight for them to make it this far but there was a silver lining on the horizon.

  Chapter 8

  They laid in bed that night. Tom heard Jen’s breathing next to him. His thoughts drifted: The contract, their future, everything they had been through in the last few years. One of their biggest hurdles came about six months before he finished his first published novel.

  ****

  Tom walked into the house after work. He sort of waved to Jennifer and went to his office where his second novel sat waiting. The first one hadn’t seen the light of day. He was okay with that though because it needed more work than he wanted to put in.

  This new book seemed like it had a lot more meat, and that it was worth something. He was excited, but he’d been working almost nonstop for the last month and a half. He added more words everyday but the story never seemed to move forward. Every day he got more and more angry at what he was working on. There seemed to be no end in sight.

  He had just started a new chapter when he heard a knock on the office door.

  “Hey, can I come in?” She called through the door.

  He kept tapping away at the keyboard, almost trying to ignore her. The words scrolled across the screen. There was another knock at the door.

  “You okay in there?”

  There was more silence from the other side of the door. He had caught fire, and didn’t want to be bothered, she should have known that. Instead, she tried the door handle, that was locked.

  “What do you want?” He yelled.

  “I’m just checking on you.”

  “I’m okay, I don’t need checking up on.”

  “Let me in sweetheart, I want to talk to you.”

  “I have work to do.”

  “You’ve been working nonstop for the last month. Isn’t it time to take a break?”

  “I want to finish this. I think it might be the story that launches my career.”

  “Are you sure of that?”

  “You don’t think so?”

  “It’s not that, but you’re trying to find luck, and that's not possible.”

  This pushed his buttons. “What do you mean luck?”

  “I mean that you’re hoping that something will blow up for you. I don’t know if it will, I don’t know if it won’t. But, pushing yourself to the point of exhaustion isn’t doing any good either.”

  His mind went dark. He couldn’t explain it then, and he couldn’t explain it now, but the lights went out. He walked to the door and threw it open.

  “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “Why are you so angry?”

  “Because, you think I can’t make something out of myself.”

  “That’s not at all what I think.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  He threw his fist and hit the wall. It almost went through but he pulled his hand back.

  “What’s going on with you.”

  “I’m so goddamn tired of this failure feeling. I don’t know what the hell is going on but I’m sick of spinning my wheels. I’m sick of hoping that one day I might finally make something of myself.”

  “You already have. I love you. You’re a great husband you’re going to be—”

  “That isn’t good enough for me. I want something I can be proud of.” He yelled. Without thinking, he put his hand on her chest and pushed. She stumbled back and lost her footing and fell down the small set of steps to the bedroom.

  He walked to the top of the stairs and looked down at her. She went to stand up, but she was in pain.

  Tom stared at her, feeling a burning anger running through him. He felt like screaming again and then saw blood. Everything came back into focus. He realized that something was wrong and froze.

  “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

  “You don’t give a damn! Why does it matter? All that matters to you is your books, and your success. Everything else is second.”

  He ran to her and dropped to his knees. “That’s not true at all. I’m sorry, what’s going on? Do you need to go to a hospital?”

  “I’ll get someone else to take me. Get the hell away from me.”

  She stood up, visibly in pain as she tried to walk. He tried to help her, but she shook him off.

  “Don’t touch me.” She leaned against the wall for support and worked her way into the kitchen. She called a friend of hers and waited. Tom sat kneeling in the floor looking at the blood. Before he knew it she had left. Tom saw his reflection in the puddle, it was a man he wasn’t sure he liked. The image still haunted him. He got down and cleaned up the puddle of blood. Once he was done, he drove to the hospital.

  “Hello sir, how can I help you?”

  “I’m here to see my wife, Jennifer Mason.”

  The woman put her name into the computer. “What’s your name?”

  He debated lying for just a second but didn’t. “Tomas Mason.”

  “Sir, it says here that she requested to keep you out of her room.”

  “What?”

  “That’s what it says. You can have a seat and we’ll ask her. If she’s changed her mind, we’ll let you back there, if she hasn’t you’ll have to stay out here.”

  “I—” He didn’t have the words. “Okay.” He walked and sat down in the chair and waited. He clasped his fingers together trying to keep his mind off the hell that it wanted to create. Just when he thought he couldn’t hold in a scream any longer the woman returned.

  “Mr. Mason.” He stood up and walked to the window. “She’s willing to let you back.”

  “Thank god.”

  The woman handed him a sticker, and he went to where they were keeping her. He found her room an
d pulled the curtains back. Jennifer was sitting on the bed in a gown. He chanced a look at her, she appeared to be in shock. There was redness around both of her eyes where she had been crying.

  “What’s going on, what did they tell you?”

  “What I already knew.” She said. Her voice was flat and lacked emotion.

  “What’s that?”

  “I..” She struggled with the words. “I lost the baby.” She let out the words as she began to cry again.

  “You, were pregnant?” He felt himself almost trip over the words.

  “I was.”

  “Why wouldn’t you tell me that?”

  She sobbed, this time it he could hear her lose her breath as she tried to hold it in. He went to the bed and wrapped his arms around her.

  “I wanted to, but you’ve been so busy with work, and writing, it never seemed like the right time.”

  “I’m so, so sorry, I wish I would have known.” He felt his stomach drop. This was all his fault. He stared down at the bed and felt the tears pooling in his eyes. “If only I’d paid more attention…”

  She wrapped her arms around him. “We’ll get through this, together.”

  They held each other and cried for the rest of the night.

  ****

  He laid there staring at the ceiling, tears had formed in his eyes. They always did when he thought about that night. They had only been married a short time, and he was sure she would leave, but she stuck it out. He was amazed by her strength but every day he remembered how bad he had hurt her. He dried his eyes and turned trying to shake the thoughts in his head so he could get some sleep.

  Chapter 9

  The next morning Tom found himself in the office. He needed a book, but he couldn’t seem to get his mind together enough to find the idea to start. He stared at the blank screen for a short time before breaking off. I’ll read, that might give me an idea. He went out to the living room and sat down on the couch with the leather-bound book perched on his knee. He turned to the start of the book and started to read.