Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 173392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 867(@200wpm)___ 694(@250wpm)___ 578(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 173392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 867(@200wpm)___ 694(@250wpm)___ 578(@300wpm)
I don’t want her having anyone else’s.
Fuck it. This could be it.
This is it.
I can’t stop. I’m not even going to try, and if I end myself someday, it won’t be because of my shit headspace. It’ll be in the wake of ruining her life, because no matter everything that will go wrong, the time I have with her will be worth it.
I button up my shirt, tuck it in, and fasten my tie, leaving the boat.
Clay sits on the hood of my truck, my sister leaning back between her thighs.
I toss my keys to Army.
Trace, Dallas, and I head for the doors.
“Take Krisjen home,” I tell Liv. “Our house.”
“What are you guys doing?”
I jerk my chin at Army. “Let’s go.”
He climbs in the driver’s side.
“Macon.” Liv follows me. “What are you doing?”
I yank open the passenger-side door. “Get home.”
She watches us, Clay jumping off the car and standing next to her as we all climb in and Army hits the gas, backing up.
Liv knows enough, and that includes knowing better than to press harder for answers. She’s got a lot to lose. I don’t want her involved.
I take one last look at the boat, picturing Krisjen at home when I get there, but she won’t be in bed because she doesn’t fucking listen. I smile a little. I’ll fight with her all night if she wants. As long as she doesn’t leave.
We take off, and I turn down the music, catching Trace in the rearview mirror. He wears a knit cap, a plaid collared shirt peeking out the top of his zipped-up leather jacket. I’ve never seen him in a collared shirt.
His face is turned out the window.
“You don’t have to come,” I tell him.
He nods, still looking outside. “I know.”
Like Krisjen and Liv, I never wanted to break the illusion that we were good people.
Army glances at me and then back to the road. “Are you sure about this?” he asks. “The more we do this, the easier it becomes. That’s a slippery slope.”
I comb my fingers through my hair and straighten my tie. “It should’ve been done last spring,” I state. “He’s a threat to their safety.”
“And he can’t be stopped,” Dallas chimes in behind me. “Not in one piece anyway.”
Dallas and Iron are one side of the same coin. There’s a detachment inside of them. If they make up their mind it needs to be done, then there is no choice.
Army and Trace are the other side of that coin. Loyal, but their conscience takes up a lot of room inside them.
Liv is a mixture of both. Things need to be done, and she accepts that she’ll feel like shit about it sometimes.
I’m not sure which one I am yet. I always felt like shit hurting someone, but I felt the same watching TV.
“I’ll do it,” Dallas announces.
“I’ll do it,” I say.
I don’t want his hands dirty any more than necessary.
I look over at Army. “You have Dex. You don’t need to be here.” Last time, he didn’t have a child to worry about. I would understand if he wanted to back out.
He focuses on the road. “We all have things to lose.”
I watch him out of the corner of my eye as we cross the tracks, rain speckling the windshield, and his silence fills the car in a way that Dallas and Trace probably don’t even notice.
We haven’t talked much the past week. I don’t think I even knew where to start any better than he did.
He knew where my head was at last week.
That morning I came back from Krisjen’s.
He watched me walk up the stairs, and he knew.
I was glad when he left, but now it’s all I think about.
He left.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
Army darts his eyes to me, and I open the glove compartment, pulling out a pair of black leather gloves.
“For everything,” I tell him, pulling them on. “It’s all yours as much as mine. You can take anything you want.”
He steals glances at me, trying to watch the road.
I swallow through the needles in my throat. “Just not her, okay?”
He’s quiet. He doesn’t say anything.
He’s mad.
But then he says, “I want my own room.”
I smile to myself.
Yeah, I guess it’s ridiculous he shares a room with Dex.
“You get first dibs,” I assure him.
The new addition will be ready before the summer. Mars is sharing a room with his little sister right now, but he’ll also need his own space. As will Iron when he comes home. That leaves two rooms left.
“It’s a bad time of year,” Trace tells us. “Water levels will be low, and the gators—”
“He won’t be found,” I say.
I know what he’s worried about, but we’ve done this once before. Not dozens of times like the rumors say. Once.
Nothing makes it out of the swamp.
We coast back into the Bay, around the village center, and deep into the dark green brush. Willows and oaks spill onto water shimmering in the faint moonlight, and rain spatters the dark surface. A wake is kicked up as an animal moves underneath the water.