Confessions Series James Patterson Novels & Stories

"Don't you hate getting caught?" "Come on," he said with a slight shrug, "I can keep a secret." I stared at him in disbelief. This guy was serious. "Trust me, I can too." With that said, I whirled around and continued on my way, leaving James with even more determination than before. CHAD AND SANDINO

Why does his confession today feels different? ******

Cole answered and waited eagerly. "Jimmy Jeff is a fraudster and a bigger one than his father," Patrick said. "Don't speak in parables," Cole responded. "l am yet to get details but it is what it is." "Is this a hunch or what? Nothing can be proven without evidence," Cole said. "I will surely bring you evidence." "Don't tell me you drove down here just to feed me on your assertions." "They ain't assertions, Mr Clinton Cole," Patrick said bluntly. "Alright, I await your evidence, till then please keep this away from my daughter."

And he’s left standing in the ashes, hard for her, forever. That’s not a love story. That’s a fucking masterpiece of psychological warfare. And we’re all just out here hoping we never meet a Cassandra… and kinda hoping we do. He flipped the page. “Alright,” he muttered, settling back in. “Let’s see whose confession is next.” ______ Episode 11 – The Mafia Affairs

It satisfies me when he groans in frustration. "Pass me my journal Andre." Then I turn to James. "You're going to answer every question we ask you and you're going to answer every single one of them honestly. If you do, things will be a lot easier for you." I say sternly. "Do we have an agreement?" James sighs before answering me. "Yeah." "Okay. Let's get this over with. I feel uncomfortable sitting here with you." "So do I." He mumbles. "You are the one who has been sending Cody the anonymous tips, correct?" Andre asks. James nods in response.

My notebook lies open on the bed, pages scattered with scrawls that don’t look like journalism anymore. I stare at them, ink smudged by my own fingertips, and realize with a slow rush of shame—and something darker—that I’ve stopped writing articles. I’ve started writing confessions. Entry 1 “Pain is not pain when it’s chosen. It becomes something else. A doorway. A release.” That was Jennifer’s voice echoing in my head tonight. I had scribbled it down after watching her work with Leo, but the words feel like mine now.

“I’m sorry, but . . . never mind. Maybe I’ve been working at the bureau for too long. It might be making me paranoid.” “Maybe it’s bothering you that you haven’t caught the guys who robbed SunBeam Savings and Loan. At one point, you were working overtime to catch them.” The trail had gone cold on that case, so Blanchette let his agents go back on their regular schedules. “I don’t know, maybe,” he mumbled. The truth was, he wanted to drop the discussion, because for one, she wasn’t going to tell him anything right now. He could see that. He had to gather as much information as he could and then confront her with it.

He smirks and there is a dimple on that cheek. We walk into the kitchen so he can show me the fancy espresso machine. If I can only have one cup of coffee a day now it, might as well be a good cup. I lean against the counter and hum as I sip the coffee. “I’m glad he found you.” Brian says as he sips from a green mug with some sport or college logo on it. “You know he was talking about hiring a P.I. to track you down?” “He told me. He was only going to have to do that because Melody refused to give him my number, for uh reasons.” I sip from the dark grey mug that said ‘I want my coffee black like my soul’ on it.

“Liv—” “No, I mean it,” I interrupted. “You’ve heard them, haven’t you? The whispers. The stares. I know what they say about me. About Mom. That we’re greedy. That we’re liars. That we... used people.” James looked away, jaw clenched. His silence was answer enough. “I just...” I rubbed my forehead, suddenly feeling exhausted. “I don’t trust anyone in this place. And you shouldn’t either.”

His approach was swift, there was something off about him but he couldn't tell what. But it was James, something was always off about him. "You can't tell with this job, can you?" Callum chuckled, wiping his hands over his face once. “I'm not fucking around.” James barked. He was now standing, they were both at the same height but he seemed to be towering over him. His palms pressed to the table between them. He might have been intimidating if his back was straight. “Let's just say I'm not buying the story of you coming up on those men and an altercation in that part of town at that time of the night. You're hiding something.”