Copyright?2023KateStewart
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Editor:DonnaCooksleySanderson
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DearReader,
SpoilerWarning—IfyouhavenotreadallTHREEbooksintheseries,nowwouldbethetimetocatchuptoavoidanyconfusion.Asthisisalegacybook,severalreferencesthroughoutthisnovelrunthroughtheentiretyofthestoryline,whichcouldbeconfusingifyouaren’tprivytothelastinstallment—TheFinishLine,whichistheblueprintofTheRavenhoodseries.
ThoughthefollowingiswrittenpredominantlyduringFlock,Istronglyadvisereadingallthreenovelsbeforestartingthislegacybook.
TRIGGERWARNING:
Ourdarkcloud’spresenceechoesbeyondhislastchapter.Thatsaid,manythingsareimpliedoffthepagebutalsowritteninthescriptthatsomewillfindtriggeringordisturbing.Still,Ifounditnecessarytoincludethemtofullyencapsulateourraven’sstruggles,especiallythoseofDominicKing.Anyheroofourtimewouldbeburdenedwithfarmorethantheycouldwithstand,andJeanDominicKingwithstooditallfortheverybestreason—love.
Thatsaid,Ihopeyoufeeleverypartofthis,asIdidwhilewritingit.
Allmylove,
XO
Kate
OneLastRainyDaySpotifyPlaylist
Totheheroeswesodesperatelyneed.Comeout,comeout,whereveryouare.TABLEOFCONTENTS
TitlePage
Prologue
ChapterOne
ChapterTwo
ChapterThree
ChapterFour
ChapterFive
ChapterSix
ChapterSeven
ChapterEight
ChapterNine
ChapterTen
ChapterEleven
ChapterTwelve
ChapterThirteen
ChapterFourteen
ChapterFifteen
ChapterSixteen
ChapterSeventeen
ChapterEighteen
ChapterNineteen
ChapterTwenty
ChapterTwenty-One
ChapterTwenty-Two
ChapterTwenty-Three
ChapterTwenty-Four
ChapterTwenty-Five
ChapterTwenty-Six
ChapterTwenty-Seven
ChapterTwenty-Eight
ChapterTwenty-Nine
ChapterThirty
ChapterThirty-One
ChapterThirty-Two
ChapterThirty-Three
ChapterThirty-Four
ChapterThirty-Five
ChapterThirty-Six
ChapterThirty-Seven
ChapterThirty-Eight
ChapterThirty-Nine
ChapterForty
ChapterForty-One
ChapterForty-Two
ChapterForty-Three
ChapterForty-Four
ChapterForty-Five
NotetotheReader
ThankYou
AbouttheAuthorIntuitionisn’tsomethingI’vebeengrantedthesamewayothershave—agiftthatsparksupatcertaintimesforguidance.It’sneverbeenthatwayforme.Fortheentiretyofmylife,it’sbeenmydailyfuelandhasneverfailedme.
Notonce.
SohowdidIgethere?
HowinthefuckdidIgethere?
“He’samanwithtoomanysecretsandnoonetosharethemwith.”—Cecelia,FlockThepurrofSean’smotorsoundsasItightenthelastbolt.Theheavyrepeatofhisengineandcrunchofgravelhelpdetractfromthenoisethat’sbeenechoinginmyheadforthelasttwelvefuckinghours.
Itshouldn’tsurprisemeanymore—layingwitnesstoactsofdisgusting,power-drunkmeninapositionofsomuchauthoritythattheybecomebored.Oncethathappens,theystarttestingthelimitstoseejusthowmuchtheycangetawaywith.Andtheydo,drummingupandlivingoutthesickestoffantasies—mostinvolvingpreyingontheweakanddefenseless.
So,no,whileitshouldn’tsurpriseme—nomatterhowhardItry—Ican’teverfindaplaceinsidemyselftofullynumbtoit.I’mnotaprayingman,butasoflate,Ifindmyselfbeggingforthatnumbeveryfuckingday.
RelievedSean’sheretodistractme,IpeerathimaroundthehoodoftheMazdaI’vebeenworkingonsinceIgaveupthepossibilityofsleep.Hesaunterstowardthebaywitharelaxedposturetoenvyandashit-eatinggrinonhisface.
“Getthatpiecerunning?”
Stupidquestion.
“Notastupidquestion,”hequips,tossinghiscigarettedownbeforegrindingitoutwiththeheelofhisboot.“Ifyoumanagedtheunmanageable,Iwouldgosofarastocallitmiraculous.”
Unlockingthehoodprop,Idropitdownashesituateshimselfbehindthewheeltogethisanswer.Roundingthecar,Imovetotheothersideofthedriver’sdoorwherehesitsintheshreddedpleatherseat,onebootplantedonthegaragefloor.Pluckingmyshoptowelfrommyjeans,Iwipemyfingerscleanasheturnsthekey,andtheancientcarinstantlysparkstolife.Grinning,heliftshischintowardme.“You’dbeahalf-decentmechanicifyouwerealittlelessscaryandmoreconversational.”
Irollmyeyesashecontinues.
“That’swhat,threeorfoursentencesandnoreply?”Hejests,killingtheenginebeforeclimbingoutandsnappingthedoorshut.“Irestmycase.”Hescrutinizesme.“Wheredidyougolastnight?”
Ishrug.“Adrive.”
“Yeah?Seeanyone?”
Ijerkmychin.
“Isolationisn’talwaysgoodinyourcase.Mydoorisonlyfeetawayfromyours.”
“Wasn’tinthemoodtotalk.”
“Yeah,toddlersbehavethesamewaywhentheygetupset.”
Hereadsmypostureandsighs.“Goingtobethatkindofday,huh?”Heshakeshisheadinirritation.
ThetruthbehindthisrarefrictionbetweenusisthatSeanbelieveshewantstoknowwhat’scirculatinginmyhead.Formetoairmyshitoutsohecanpickitapartbecausehethinkshemightbeabletohelp.ButbecauseIknowhimjustaswell,lettinghiminonthesecretsI’mguardingwouldonlytearhisinsidestoanearirreparablestateandleavehiminthesamepredicamentI’mcurrentlyin.Fornow—untilIcanunleashonthoseresponsibleforhowI’mfeeling—I’mstuckinthemosthellacioustypeofprison.
Fornow.
Butsoon…
“What,man?What?”Seanasks,sensingmystruggleagainsttheleashthatcontinuestotightenasIfightagainstitbytheday.Hefishesoutanothercigarette.“Comeon,man.Givemesomething.”
TheflickofhisZippocalmsmealittle.ThefamiliarsoundremindsmethatIamnotaloneinthisandneverhavebeen.
“Youmaythinkyou’relockeduptightenough,Dom,butit’sstartingtoleakeverywhere.Youaremakingthis,”hegesturesbetweenus,“hardalready.Ifyoukeepalidonwhat’simportantnow,you’llmakewhat’scomingimpossible.”
Idon’tbotherdefendingmyselfbecausethesituationiswhat’simpossible.
RarelydoIeversitonsecretswithSean,butIcan’tutterasinglewordbecauseifIdo,curiositywillgetthebestofhim.He’lldemandtolaywitnesstowhatIhave.Oncethathappens,noonewillbeabletostopthingsfromgoingintomotion.
Seandoesn’thavethekindofcontrolneededtokeephimselfincheck—notwhenitcomestothis.It’sgettingmoreunbearableformeaseverysecondticksby.SomethingI’verepeatedlyfailedtomakemybrotherunderstand.EverytimeTobiasdismissesme,hefailsus…them—allofus.
Atonepoint,IpridedmyselfonbeingtheonecapableofgainingaccesstoanythingIdesired.Nowitfeelslikeafuckingcurse—withaweightI’llneverbeabletolift.
Ijusthavetoholdonalittlelonger.Justalittlelonger,andthenIcanserveupwhatI’vebeenbottlingupforthelastfewmonthssinceIstartedmytasklist.
Alistthat—forallintentsandpurposes—pivotedinamajorfuckingwayassoonasIfiguredouthowtotapintowhat’sbeenhiddenbeneathaveilofdentist-whitenedsmilesandfakepatrioticlifestyles.LivesmasterfullymanufacturedtoresembletheincreasinglyelusiveAmericandream.Wheninreality,I’mlayingwitnesstothehobbiesandfavoritepastimesoffuckingmonsters.
TheevidenceI’mgatheringagainstthepowersthatbewouldtakedownourfragileecosysteminlessthanaday.What’swhirringaroundinmypsycheisequivalenttothemagnitudeoftenatombombs,andIcan’tutterafuckingword.
Notyet.
“Hungry?”Seanasks,knowinghe’snotgettinganywhere.
HaveIeaten?AmIhungry?
“Fuck,man.Twowords.Givemetwomorewords,orIcan’tleaveyoulikethis.”Heexhalesastreamofsmoke.“Thehostilityisrollingoffyou.”
Swallowingmyresponse,Istepawayfromhisunwaveringintrusion.Asitstands,Ican’tmakeamovewithoutthesupportofmybrother.
Seanbreaksupmystrugglewithahintofhopeasheglancesattheplasticclockhangingpastmyshoulder.“Shit,raincheck.I’mgoingtobelateifIdon’tgetgoing.”
Theplan.Wehaveaplan.
ThelastlegofitstartstodaywithhisreturntoHornerTech.Assoonassaidplanisexecuted,nothingandnoonewillstopmefromflippingtheoverly-polishedtabletoexposethefilthbeneath.Asifprivytothatthought,Seanflipshiskeysintohispalmandpushesoffthecar.Ashereadiestoleave,Ifindmyselfwishinghewouldstayfornootherreasonthantodistractme.Needingcompanyisnotme.Neverbeenme.Butrightnow,Ineed…something.“Orientation?”
“That’soneword,”hequips,hiseyescalculating.Hedoesn’ttrustmealonewithmythoughts.I’mnotsureIcantrustmyownmuchlonger.“Givemeonemore,Dom.”
“Ready?”
“Doesitmatter?”Hesays,runningahandthroughhishair.“Timetoplaymypart.Seeyouatthehouseinafew.”Bassthrumsthroughthespeakeronmywindowsill,filteringdownintothebackyardofournewtownhouse,wheretwentyorsoofourmosttrustedloiterbelow.Enteringmypassword,IhopetobuyanotherhourfromjoiningthembeforeI’msummoned.I’mnowherenearthetypeofheadspaceneededtoentertain,andIquicklydiveintoavoiditwhenmyburnerrattleswitharesponsetoatextIsentfromthegaragehoursago.Hisrepliesarebecomingmoredelayedwitheachpassingday.
Yougood?
B:DefineGood.
Hisresponsehasmegrinning,whichfeelsforeignandhasitdissolvingasquicklyasitcame.
WhenIfigureitout,BigB,I’llletyouknow.Makingalist.
B:Checkingittwice?
Yeah,callmeSanta,andeveryoneonithasbeennaughty.Whencanwetalk?
B:Don’tmove.
Translation—myleashremains.
LikeIsaid,weneedtofuckingtalk.Aconversation.It’simportant.
B:Patience.
ThatIdon’thave.Notanymore.
B:Youneverdid.Can’tgetawaynow.
Can’torwon’t?
B:Waitforme.
Youdon’tknowwhatyou’reasking.
B:Notasking.
“Motherfucker,”Igritout,tossingtheburneronmydesk.Screenblinkingforacommand,IdecidetoforgotherabbitholeI’vebeendeepdivingin.JustasIfindalittlereprieveinmilder,moremindlesswork,Tylerbarksmynamebeforeopeningmybedroomdoor.
“Byallmeans,comein,”Isnap,regrettingthefactthatthoughwe’regrownmen,ourambitiousplansforthenextfewmonthsmadeitano-brainertoroomtogethertemporarily.AdecisionI’mregrettingwiththetrafficdownstairsthankstoSeanandtheconstantinterruptionsbybothsincewemovedin.
“Prettysureyouwanttohearthis,”Tylersupplies.“Wehavecompany.”
“PrettysureIgatheredthat,”Ijerkmychintowardthespeakerstreamingmyplaylistmoreinanefforttodrownsaidcompanyout.
“Notthatkindofcompany,”hecounters,leaningagainstmydoorframe.
Rollingbackinmydeskchair,Igrabmystashboxandunloadafewsupplies.“Yeah?Enlightenme.”
Tylerstalksfurtherintotheroom,comingclosetohoveringabovewhereIsit,hishesitancespeakingvolumesashestartstoprefacehisnewswithcaution.“Look,man,whatevershityouhavegoingon—”
“Alreadyhadthisspeechtoday,”Iinterject,pluckingoutabluntpaper.
“Idon’tthinkyou’reintheheadspacetohandleit.”
“Thenwhybotherknocking?”Summoningsomepatience,Istarttounrollthewrap.“Outwithit.I’mgood.”
“You’renotfuckinggood,anduntilyoucomecleanwithwhat’sgoingon,wecan’thelpyou.”
“IalreadyreachedouttoFrance,”Irelaytokilltheinterrogation.HeknowsifIwenttomybrother,it’snothinghecanhelpmewith,andwiththatunderstanding,heswitchesgears.
“Seanbroughtbackanewemployeefromtheplant.”
“Goodonhim,”Isprinkleshreddedbudintothepreppedpaper.“Blondeor—”
“Cecelia,”heinterjects,weighingmyreactionthroughthefewtensesecondsthatfollow.Ischoolmyexpressionthroughtheadrenalinespike,andhecontinuesasIhitmykeyboard.“So,wecanhandlethisoneoftwoways.Icangofeelherout,oryoucan.Buteitherway,thisgreatlycomplicatesshit.”
Alreadyloggedintoheremail,IscanthelastonesentfromRomanyesterdaymorning.It’sfilledwitheverythingfromhisgatecodetohishousestaffschedule,givingherfullaccess.
Thoughhismansionsitsoffaprivateroad,andonlythefrontisgated,itwaserectedlikeafortress—especiallyinthewaythatthetreessurroundingthepropertywerecutbackfarenoughthatanyonewhoattemptedtogetinwouldbespottedbyhismeticulouslyplacedsecuritycameras.Throughastrangefuckingtwistoffate,weownadjoiningland,whichgrantsusbackyardaccess,butthehouseitselfistoofarawayfromanydecentcovertogetinandoutwithouttippinghimoff.Anyattempttomicthathousewouldraiseflagswedon’twantraised.
IhavezerodoubtthatRomandesigneditthatway.
Thoughwehadeveryintentionoftappingthehouse,weabandonedthoseplansafterthedustsettledonconstruction.ThereasonbeingRomanrarely,ifever,sleepsthere.HispermanenthomeishiscondoinCharlotte,whichwe’vesuccessfullytappedalongwithHornerTech’scorporateoffice.Thosetapshavesinceproveduselessasidefromtheabilitytokeeptabsonhisscheduleandwhereabouts,makingiteasierforthebirdsonhispermanentwatch.Oneofwhichisacurrentheadquartersemployee.
“Thoughtwehadbirdsonher?”Tylerprompts.
“ItookoverhersurveillancethedayafterIgothomebecauseweweremovinginonRoman.Whichiswhytheoldwatchdidn’talertuswhenshepackedupyesterdayanddrovehere.Fuck.”
“DidFranceknow?”
“ThatItookover?”Icutmyeyesupathim.“Why…doyouthinkhewouldoffuckingobjected?”
“Onlyifyoufuckedupanddroppedtheball,whichyouclearlydid,”hedrawsoutashecrosseshisarms.“Evenso,youmissnothing,Dom,sowhatorwhodistractedyou?”
Themonsters.Thenoise.TherabbitholeIsoughtout,doveheadfirstinto,andthatfollowedmeout,onlytohauntmyeverywakingminute.
“Shehasn’tbeenhereineightfuckingyears,andhedoesn’tevenlivethere,”Iexcuseinshitdefense.“Didn’tthinkthatwouldchangeanytimesoon.Besides,when’sthelasttimeyouhadeyesonher,jarheadalmighty?”
“Fine,let’squashtheblamegameandworryabouttheeighteen-year-oldtimebombstandinginouryard.”Hegivesmeathoroughonceover.“OrshouldIworryabouttheonesittinginfrontofme?”
Ignoringhim,IX-rayRoman’spropositiontohisestrangeddaughter,siftingthroughthedetails.Kickingback,IresumerollingmybluntasmymindracesandTyler’squestionsstart.“Whyisshehere?”
“He’sgoingtopayhercollegetuitionandtopitoffwithaninheritanceforworkingattheplant…forafuckingyear.”
“JesusChrist,Dom.YouneedtoplaceanothercalltoFrance.”
Fumingaboutmyfuckup,Ijerkmychin.“He’snotreceptivetoanythingrightnow.”
“Ithink,onthis,he’llwanttobeprivy.Itchangesthings.”
“Itchangesnothing,”Isnap.“Everythingwillgotoplan.”Becauseifitdoesn’t,Iwon’tbeabletocontroltheshitfesteringinsidememuchlonger.“Nothingchanges,”Ireiterate,hearingthedifferenceinmytone,whichsoundseverybitlikeanorder—somethingTylerdoesn’ttakekindlytoafterfollowingsomanymilitantlyovertheyears.There’sawarninginhispostureevenashesummonsthepatiencetopressinonmeforwhat’sbehindmyresignation.
“Dom—”
“Rememberwhenyoucamebackfromyouronlyoverseastrip,”Itwistmyblunttight,“andyoudidn’twanttotalkaboutit?”Idon’tbotherlookingupasIsealitclosed.“Samescenario.”
“Thatbad?”
“Worse,”Iswallow,wipingmydeskfreefromdebris.“Thesearen’tactsofwar.”
“Jesus,man,Igetit.Butonthis,wecan’t—”
“Wefuckinghaveto.Notaword,Tyler,toeitherofthem.Seancan’thandlethemindfuck,andmybrother’stoofargoneinthegamehe’splayingoverseas.Ifwetellhim,hismindwillbehere,anditcan’tbe.Notrightnow.”Iletmystatementlingerforemphasis,andhedoesn’tmissit.“It’suptous.Trustmeonthis.”
Tylertakesafullminutetomullitoverbutfinallyagrees.“Allright.Fornow.”
Myansweringglareechoesmyrequest
“Don’t,”hejerkshischin.“Don’tquestionme.”
“Thendon’tmakeme.”
“HaveIever?”hebarks,lettinghisarmsfalltohissides.“Let’sconcentrateonthesituationathand.Idon’tthinkyoushouldmeether,butI’mbettingyou’llgoagainstmyadvice.”
“What’sshelike?”
“FromwhatI’vegatheredinmytwo-secondassessment,curious,innocent,observant,andtokeepitonehundred,waytoofuckingbeautiful.”
Alow-lyingfurystartstoprickleinmyveinsasIrunthroughalistofscenarios,namelySean’scurrentagendatomixourbusinesswithhispleasure.
“I’mnottheoneyouneedtowarnonthelastpart.”
“Goddamnit,Sean,”Tylergroans,“Igetthatthiscameoutofleftfield,butwehavenocontingencyplanforthis…Jesus.Allright,”heexhalesaudibly,“I’lldosomeadditionalrecononRomantoseewhathismotivemightbeforbribinghisdaughterbackintohislife.Itdoesn’tmakesenseotherthanalastattemptatarelationshipwithher,right?”
“Shejustgraduated,”Irelaythoughtfully,“Romanwasthere.”
“Athergraduation?”
“Ididn’treadintoit.MaybeIshouldhave,”Iadmit.
“Well,itwasn’tinmyfuckingnewsletter,”hesnaps,exasperated.“Dom,youshouldhave—”
“Idon’tneedtoberemindedofwhatmyjobentails,”Igritout.“I’mawareofthecostoffuckinganypartofthisup,butwe’recovered.I’llmakesureofit.”
“Andthissituation?”
“I’llthinkonit.”
“Sureyoudon’twanttoputinanothercalltoFrance?”
Andriskmybrother’slifeasheplaysadangerousroundofroulettewithaFrenchthugsportingaGodcomplex?
Fuckno.IearnedanddeservethepositionI’min.It’smycall,andwebothknowit.Hereadsmydecision.
“Choiceisyours.I’llgofeelherout.”Igivehimaslownodbeforehedisappears,thepromiseofafutureargumentapparentinthetightsnapofmydoorbehindhim.
Standing,Ilightmybluntbeforewalkingovertotheblinds.Liftingone,Ispotherlingeringatourfence,herbacktome,outlinedandilluminatedbythesinkingsun.Pullingfrommyblunt,Iwatchhertakeinhersurroundings,scanningthemountainridgejustasTylerapproachesher.Whensheturnstohim,Idroptheblindsinlieuofgettingmyfirstreallookather.
There’snopoint.Ican’tandwon’tappreciatethebeautyofanycomplicationthatthreatensouragenda.We’veworkedtoohardandwaitedtoolongforthedays,weeks,andmonthstocome.Ourplansaren’tchangingforanyreasonoranyone,especiallyRomanHorner’steenagedaughter.
Despitewhatsomesay,notallbirdsareattractedtoshiny,spinningthings.AftersmokingthewholeblunttocalmmyshittothepointIcanfacemyfuckup,Imimicaprogressreportunderthebirdwho’sbeenonCecelia’sdetailforyearsontheoff-chanceTobiaschecksin.Reasoningwithmyselfthatit’stheonlywaytokeepmybrother’sfocuswhereitneedstobe,IshakeofftheaccompanyinguneaseasIhitsend.Pushingawayfrommydesk,IstalkdownstairsandamcaughthalfwaybyJeremymakinghiswayupwithoneofhisregulargirlsintow.
“Sean’sroom,motherfucker,”Iwarnasheflashesabuzzedsmilewhilesweepinghisconquestpastme.Spottingmeastheybrushby,Iignoreherdrawn-outstareandanyothersIattractasIcrossthelivingroomtowardtheslidingglassdoor.
Inthenextinstant,I’msurroundedbybassandmixedsmellsofsmokewaftingthroughaonce-familiarcrowd—peopleIgrewupwith,whonowfeelmorelikestrangerstome.Mixedgreetingsdieontheircollectivetongueswithoneglanceinmydirection,andI’mthankfulforit.ItshouldbothermethatIinstillthathesitance,butIpreferit.
WhenIfirstarrivedhomefromMIT,Ifoundmyselfinthepositiontodefendmyplaceamongstsomeoftheinkedduetomyfour-yearabsence,despitemysummersspentathome.ThatlastedamatterofdaysbecauseImadeitso.Ithadnothingtodowithflexingbutanobstacleinthewayofgettingtowhat’simportant,whichbringsmebacktothematterathand—mycurrenthindrance.Scanningtheyard,withafewtwistsofheadsandmovingbodies,IcatchsightoftheinterloperstandingnexttoSean,theirpostureintimate.
Asifshefeelsmysummons,sheturnsherhead,andoureyescollide.Thesecondithappens,anoddpremonitionrunsthroughmeasawhispersnakesitswayintomypsyche.Shakingitoff,Istalktowardherandenterherpersonalspace,refusingtominceintentwithuselesswords.Sean’sattemptatinterceptiondoesshittodissuademefrommakingmypoint,andbeforeutteringaword,shealreadyknowsherplacewithme.
OursparringbeginsandendswithabriefbackandforthinwhichImakeitapointtoembarrassher.It’sonlywhenImakeitcrystalthatshe’snotonlyuninvitedbutunwantedthatshedrunkenlyacquiesces.“Whatever,I’llgo.”
Turningtoheadbackinside,shegripsmyforearmtostopme.HerinvasivetouchfeelslikeaburnasIresisttheurgetoripmyarmawaywhilewhippingmyheadinherdirection.Defiantdarkblueeyes—matchingthoseofmyenemy—clashwithminewhileshedownstherestofherbottlebeforedroppingitatmyfeet.“Oops.”
It’sthenthatmymissionrunswithclaritythroughmyveinsaswecontinuetostareoff.Asithappens,aslightremorsebrewsbecauseshe’scompletelyunawareofthethreatsheposes.
Tylerwasonlypartiallyrightinhisassessmentbutmissedsomethingvital
Herbeautyisfuckingtragic.
Ifherpresenceheresomuchasaltersanysmallpartofthegroundplanthathastorolloutinthenextfewmonths,I’llhavenoissuedoingwhateverittakestoeraseherfromtheequation
Justasthethoughtcrossesmymind,sheendshertirade,intentonhavingthelastword.“Youknow,youcouldsayitwasnicetomeetme.Youarekickingmeoutofyourparty.It’sthepolitethingtodo.”
“Neverbeenaccusedofbeingpolite.”
“It’scommondecency,arsehole.”
Thefeelofherfingerswrappedaroundmyforearmbeginstognawawaythelastofmypatience.Seanreadsmyrapidlychangingdemeanor,cursingbeforescoopingheroverhisshoulder.HiseyeslingerheavilyonmyprofileforsomeacknowledgmentwhilemineremainlockedonRoman’sdaughter.
“Andwhataprettyarseholeyouare,”sheslursout.Laughterspillsoutaroundus,cuttingthroughsomeofthethicktension,anddespitemyself,Ican’thelptheslightupturnofmylipsinresponse.Thatisuntilshemakesherlastdeclaration.“Iamtrouble,youknow…justaskyourbrother.”
DanglingoverSean’sshoulder,shekeepshersteadygazeonmeasSeanhaulsherthroughtheslidingglassdoortoprotectherfromgettingtheworstofme.Whenshe’soutofsight,Tylersidlesuptome,puttingvoicetothequestionwebothalreadyknowtheanswerto.“Whatwashethinking?”
“Thathe’llgethisdickwetwhileconvincingushe’sdoingusasolid,”Iclipout,staringinthedirectionSeanfled.
“Andnoonethoughttotellhimotherwise?”
“Wedid,”IglanceoveratTyler.“Hejustwasn’tpayingattention.”
Tyler’swheelsbegintoturnasIrecallalong-agoconversationthattookplacenexttoaroaringcampfirewhenwewerejustteenagers.Anightthatis—orshouldbe—easilyaccessibletoallofus,verbatim,becauseit’sthenightwetrulybegan.
“We’regoingbasicwithourstrategy,”Tobiasrelays,staringthoughtfullyintotheflames.
“Meaning?”Tylerasks.
“We’vegottoplaythisjustright.TheonlywaytodefeatamanlikeRomanistoplaysleepinggiant,”mybrotherrepliesinatonethathasusallperkingup.
“ThinkHelenofTroy,”Ioffer,readinghislineofthoughtandknowingallofusarewell-versedintheGreekmyththankstoMrs.Green’sannualeighth-gradelesson.
Inthestory,Helen,thewifeofKingMenelausofMycenaeanSparta,wasseducedandstolenbyParis,PrinceofTroy,andremainedwithhim,whichsparkedaten-yearwar.MypointinbringingituphasnothingtodowiththelovestorybutthetacticusedbywayoftheTrojanHorse.GreeksoldierswereabletogainaccessandtakethecityofTroyafterafruitlessten-yearsiegebyhidinginagianthorsesupposedlyleftasanofferingtothegoddessAthena.Byusingthesametypeoftactic,wecouldtakemethodical,measuredstepstogettoRoman.
Insteadofrehashingthat,Iputavoicetomylesscomplicatedsolution.“Butitseemslikealotoftroubletogothroughwhenwecanjusteliminatetheproblem.”
Mybrother’sreactionispredictableandinstant,ararefearinhiseyesasheweighsmywordswhileassessingme.Sayingitoutloudforceshimtoacknowledgethesideofmehe’sbeengettingglimpsesofbutfearsoutofpaternalconcern.Asideofmehe’sterrifiedexistsbecauseitmeans,atonepoint,itwillputmeinthelineoffire,whereIfullyintendtobe.Hespeakshisobjectionabreathlater.“Iknowyou’renotfuckingsuggestingwekillthemanincold—”
“Eyeforaneye.”Ishrug.“Ourparentsburnedtodeath.Don’tyouthinkthatcallsforaggressiveaction?You,yourself,toldDelphineyouweresickofallthetalk.Themeetingsareajoke,filledwithnothingbutpussieswholiketobitchwhilesherefillstheircoffee.Mightaswellbeabookclubforallthefuckinggoodit’sdoing.”
Takingitastepfurther,Ilayoutmysimplifiedplan.“Youknow,ifweboildownenoughtobaccoanddabtherightamountofconcentrateonhisfuckingcardoorhandle,withinminutesofitseepingintohisskin,it’sgameover.Heartattackontheautopsyreport.Presentedwiththerightopportunity,it’sahundredpercentuntraceable.”
Thoughshroudedbythewoods,there’sjustenoughfirelighttomakeoutthecolordrainingfromhisfaceashespeaksinbothalarmandwarning.“He’snotasmoker,sothere’sthefirstholeinthatstupididea,andthat’snotwhoweare,”hegritsout,“andnotwhowewillbe,Dom.That’snotwhatMamanandPapawanted.Thereisabetter,morediplomaticwaytohandlethis,lessmercifulthandeath.”Hegivesmeanadamantshakeofhishead.“No,whatwe’regoingtodoischangethingsforthebetter.OncewetakeRomandown,there’sahundredlikehimtotakehisplace.Theyexploitpeoplelikeourparentsanddiscardthemoncetheybecomealiability.”Helooksateachoneofuspointedly.“Whatarewegoingtodoaboutthem?”
“Notourproblem,”Seansaysfromwhereherocksinhiscampingchairinhisfootballjersey,beerinhand,highlingeringfromthepeprally.
“We’regoingtomakeitourproblem,”Tobiasdeclares,“that’sthewholepointofallofthis.It’snotjustaboutourfamilyorthistown.Notanymore.”
Shovinghishandsinhispockets,heturnsandstaresinthedirectionofthenewly-erectedconstructionofRoman’shouse—amerelengthofafootballfieldawayfromourspot—hisvoiceinafarawayplacewhenheadds,“we’regoingtodothisinawaythatwillhonorthem.”
Seanpopsanotherbeerasheputsinhistwocents.“Thisseemsambitious.Imean,comeon,man.Lookatwherewe’reat—bumfucknowhere.”
“That’sexactlythepoint.”Sean’sfocusflitstomebecauseoftheamountofbiteinmytone.He’sstillstraddlingrealms,livinginthecreatedworldandtheoneTobiashasenvisionedandwantsustohelpre-create.DespitemywarningsthatTobiasisn’tgoingtotakeusseriouslyifwedon’tstepup,Sean’sundertheimpressionwe’realreadyinduetorelation.Hehasnoideajusthowwrongheisinthatrespect.
“YouwanttoendupjustanotherlinecookatDaddy’srestaurant?”Iremindhim.“What’sgoingtohappenwhentheycallinthatbankloan?”
Sean’seyesflare,butheremainsquiet,pickingathisbeerlabelasIturnandfixmygazeonTyler,whosesituationisjustasgrim.“Areyougoingtobeacareersoldier?”
Tylerglaresoveratme,hisfather’sfatehisownworsefear.
Thetruthis,noneofuswantstotracethefootfallsorrepeatthefateofourparents.WhileTobiasandIhavesufferedgreatly,ourbrothershaven’tbeenmuchmorefortunate.Tyler’senduredtheworstbywayofremnantsofhisfather,wholeftUSsoilasonemanandcamebackanother.Sean’sinthemidstofwitnessingthetollit’stakingonhisparentsjusttokeeptheirrestaurantrunningandcollectiveheadsabovewater.
TheirfearofrepeatingasimilarpathisoneofthemainreasonswhyTobiashasourattention—buthe’sgivenusplentyofothers.Hewasthefirsttobreakthesmall-townmindsetchainandgetout.Thenot-so-subtlechangesinhimduringhistripsbackarewhat’skepttheircuriositystoked.Isatiatedminebydiggingintowhymybrother’smorerelaxeddemeanorstartedtodisappearoverashorttime.
ThismadememoredeterminedtoditchanyritualisticteenagebullshitandmanupbeforeIwasexpectedto.NotthatIhadmuchofachoiceorthathe’snoticed.
“Thisisexactlywhywe’rehere,”Tobiasasserts,“togetourprioritiesstraight.”
“Myprioritiesareperfect,”Seanliftshishandsandbeginstotickoffhisfingerstospiteusboth.“Pussy,pussy,pussy,pussy,and…”heholdsafingeronhisthumb,“yup,I’mgoingtohavetogowithpussy.”
IlaughdespitemyannoyancewithSeanasTobias’seyesflareinwarning.“ThisisanotherreasonwhyIcalledthismeeting.Youwantagirlfriend?Haveone,butpillowtalkandthisfuckingclubarenevertogohandinhand.Whattheotherbirdsdoisnotmybusiness,butasfarasweareconcerned,womendon’thaveaplaceatthisfire,notyet.Andnotuntiltheyarevettedbymepersonally.Endof.”
“Ithoughtyousaidwomenareasanctuary.”Seansnarks,testingTobiasagainbeforesippinghisbeer.
“Theyare,”Tobiasspits,“awayfrombusiness.Personalattachmentsarethegreatestliability.Andthefirstonewhofucksuponthatfrontwillpaydireconsequences.”Heagainlookstoeachofusinanattempttodrivehispointhomebeforeadding,“nofuckingexceptions.”
Astheconversationprogresses,Itrytodiffusethetensionthatcontinuallyrearsitsuglyheadasweallsnapbackandforth.TheresentmentforTobias’slongabsencesonlytocomebackcallingshotshashimgettingtwiceasmuchvenomashe’sgiving.Icanbarelyconcealmyowngrudge,especiallywhenmyaunt’sdrinkingistossedintothemix.
“So,ifI’mgettingthisright,”Tylerdiverts,posturerigid,“weneedawoodenhorsetorecruitanarmytohideinsideitandtheopportunitytoslipintothecity.”
Tobiasdipshischininconfirmation
“I’mgoingtobeathird-generationMarine,”Tylerdeclares,whichisnosurprisetoanyofus.“It’sagiven,andifthere’sonethingIknowhowtodo—it’showtobuildanarmy.”
Seanspeaksupnext,puttinghispetulantbullshitaside.“MeandDomwillcoverthegarage,andonceit’supandrunning,I’llfigureoutawaytogetusthroughthegate.”Herufflesmyhair,andIslaphishandawayashefinishes,“andweallknowthisasshole’sgoingtoHarvardorYaleorsomeshit.”
“Guessthatmakesyouthehorse,”Icliptomybrother.
“No,littlebrother,”hecountersaswestareoff,ourtensionmuchhardertoignoreduetoourearlierfight.MostlybecauseherefusestoletmejoinhiminFranceandthinksI’mblindtowhathe’sstartedinParis.Ofthecompanyhekeepsandtheconstantdangerhe’sputtinghimselfin.
“You’rethehorse,”hedeclaresashelooksbetweenthethreeofus,“asofthismoment,Inolongerexist.”
Afterhashingoutalittlemorestrategy,Ijoinmybrother,whostandsafewfeetfromthefire.
“WhataboutHelen?”Hestaresbackatmewithunguardedsurprise.
Untilminutesago,Iwashisgiftedteenagebrotherandatoolcapableofgettinghimoutoftightsituationsalongwithdoingreconthathelpshimgaingroundwhereheneedsit.Tohim,I’msupposedtobesatisfiedwiththebreadcrumbsheselectivelydecidestofeedmewhilehekeepsmeasafedistancefromhisoverseasdealings.Atthispoint,I’mkeepingmyownsecretsandchoosingwhenandhowIrevealthem.
MycrumbofknowledgeaboutCeceliaisminorincomparisontotheextentofwhatI’vemadeitmybusinesstoknow.LikeTobias,Isawhertoday,aninnocent,youngtender,withrebellionclearinhereyesassheshovedabookdownherpantstospiteRoman.Hisinstilledbigotryapparentasheglancedaroundthelibraryasifthewallsweresplatteredwithshit.
Staringbackatme,Tobiasspeaksupinbothorderandwarningthatwearen’tgoingtherewhenitcomestoRoman’sfamilialties,andknowingmybrother,neverwill.“We’releavingHelenoutofit.”
Tylerstandsnexttomenearlyadecadelaterinquietcontemplationasthepartycontinuestobustlearoundus,ourgazesinthedirectionwhereSeanfledwithCeceliaintowbeforeIglanceoverathim.Withinseconds,Iseetherecognition,hismemoryjustaslongandsharpasmine,hishearing…supernaturalandthehighestcardhehastoplay—whichhedoes,regularly.Heprovesitashespeaksup,dreadinhistoneashepinpointsitperfectlybyvoicinganironic,specificwarning.“BewareofGreeksbearinggifts.”Herunsapalmdownhisjawasheglancesoveratme.“JesusChrist.HelenjustfuckinglandedinTripleFalls.”
Thereinliesthetragedy.
Helen’sstorydidn’tendwellforher,oranyoneelseforthatmatter.
Tobias’swarningringssharpinmymindforthefirsttimesincethatconversationbecauseIfeltthebuzzstartthesecondIlockedeyeswithCecelia—andstillfeelitlingering.KnowingSean’sreasonforbringingherinwithouthimtryingtojustifyit,there’snofuckingwayI’mlookingthisgifthorseinthemouth—oranywhereelseforthatmatter—becauseIknowwithoutadoubtifCeceliahasaparttoplayinthis,itwon’tendwellforanyofus.
“What’syourcall?”Tylerprompts
“Haveeveryoneatthegarageintwenty.”
She’sinitnow,brother.
Herdsoftownspeopleglidealongtheendlessrowsofvendortents.Mostallofthemarewearingsmiles,blissfullyunawarethatthereisawargoingon.Thatbeyondsomeoftheirtreesandstateparks,thereisagroupofmenfightingontheirbehalfsothatthelocaleconomycanthrive,sothepoachersdon’tgetthebestofthem.—Cecelia,ExodusMoresunseepsthroughmyclosedblindsasIsipfromacupoffreshbrew,focusingmyblurredvisiononmyscreensplitbyvariouscameraviews—twotrainedonRoman’sbackyardaftertappingintohissecurityserver.Thesecond—courtesyofthecameraattachedtothebackofthetruckofourladybirdinwaiting—givesanampleviewoftheroadleadingtothenewlydiscoveredwarehouse.Thelastisfromtheboltedcameraontheroofofthewarehouse.Awarehouseownedbythetargetwe’recurrentlyrunningalonggameon—AnthonySpencer.OneofahandfulofRoman’senemieswhomadethefirstcut.Enemieswhohavetheirownempiresweplantorobanddismantlebeforeburningthemtoashes.
Byeliminatingourcompetition,we’remakingfuckingsurewe’retheoneswhogettoserveRomanjusticeandmakebankwhiledoingit.Wehaven’tmadeourpatterntotakedownRoman’sadversariesapparenttohimyet.Still,he’llbecluedinsoonenoughwhenafewofthemogulshehasanoldbeefwithinneighboringhigh-risesstartdisappearingonebyoneduetomethodicaldesign,erasingallopportunitytheycouldhavehadtogettohimbeforewedo.
He’llknowsomeone’scomingforhimsoonenough.
Frankly,Ican’tfuckingwaituntilhestartsscramblingtofindoutwho
Time.It’salljustamatteroftime.
IarguedthistacticoutwithmybrotherasaconditionsinceherefusedtoletmeeliminateRomanoutright.Myreasoning?Theleastwecoulddoisfuckwithhimpsychologicallywhileensuringwe’retheoneswhomakehimpay.ThoughTobiasresistedtheideaatfirst,hisvindictivestreakwonout.
Jeremy’sFleetHeatingandAirvancomesintoviewashefliesdownthegravelparkinglotandlinesupnexttowhereTylerisparked.Hoppingout,hesearchesforandspotsthecamera.Clickingonhisearpiece,heflipsmethecompanymascotbetweeneachword.“Testing.Testing.”
“You’reanidiot,”Iutter,unabletohelpmygrin.
“Afternoon,Princess,”hecoos,chinliftedtothecamera.“How’sthatcushychairtreatingyourass?”
“Keepingmyballsniceandcool,bro,”IquipasRusselljumpsoutofthepassengerside,openingthevandoorsbehindhim.“Maybeifyouhaddoneyourmathhomeworkjustonceinyourlifetime,youwouldn’tbethemanwithcallousedhandsformorereasonsthanone.”
“Don’tflirtwithmerightnow,Dom.Thisisseriousbusinesswe’reconducting.Buttellmesomething,andbehonest,”heturnsandthrustshisassouttowardthecamera.“Dotheseuniformkhakismakemyasslookfat?”
Russellshakeshisheadwithachuckleashestudiesthewarehouseandspeaksup.“So,whofoundthisone?”
Jeremysuppliestheanswer.“Tyler.Itwasn’tlistedinthedouchebag’scompanyassets,buthefoundtheaddresshiddeninsomeofSpencer’sancientpaperwork.”
Tylerspeaksup,alreadyinsidethewarehouse.“Safetosaywecanhearyou,dipshit.Clearthelineofbullshit.We’reontheclock.”
“What’syourstatus?”IaskTyler,eyeingsaidclockonmymonitor.
“Alreadyatthedoor,”Tylergrunts.“LikeIsuspected,thisisapull-upgroundlock,notpadded,soifwedon’ttakeanything,he’llneverknowwewerehere.Thelockisgivingmehelltodislodge.Givemeaminute.”
“Youdon’thavemuchmorethanthat,”Iwarn.
RussellpullsonhisglovesbeforeretrievingtwocrowbarsandhandingonetoJeremyasJeremyscopestheisolatedbuildinginthemiddleofbumfucknowhere,whichsitsjustinsideourcountyline.It’sthewarehouse’slocationthatluredusin.That,andthefactthataftermoredigging,wefoundoutthatRomansoldthelandandwarehousetoSpencerwhenhewasoffloadingworthlesspropertyyearsago,backwhentheywerestilldoingbusinesstogether.ThequestioniswhySpencerkeptitandwhyit’stitledasapersonalasset.Jeremyspeaksup,echoingmythoughts.“So,what’sinthisone?”
“That’swhatyou’retheretofindout,imbecile,”Igritout.
JeremyturnstoRussell.“He’ssobitchylately.”
RussellstaresatJeremyashealwaysdoes,likehe’salabexperimentthatwentawry,asJeremycontinueshisrant.“Igetit,Dom.Weallcoulduseadayoff.Infact,”heglancesaround,“we’remissingabirdtoday.BetSean’stiedupatthemoment…ooh,maybeCeceliagetsdownlikethat…it’salwaysthequietones.”
JustasJeremysaysit,myburnerrattleswithanincomingtextfromSean.
S:Fiveminutesout.Gotthegatecode.
Idon’tneedaplay-by-play,andwehavethatalready.Getmesomethingusefulandlookformysignal.
“Gottaagree,sheishotasfuck,”RusselladdsasCeceliaappearsonthepoolsidecamerainabikini,lookingutterlyfuckingperfectinthesun,longchestnuthairblowingaroundherflawlessface,herbuildthatofawetdream.Themeresightofhergnawsatmeasshestudiesthesurfaceofthepool,seeminglylostinthought.JeremylatchesontoRussell’sassessment,breakingupmyown.“Asofflimitsasshemaybe,ifIweretheonetiedup,Iwouldprobablyletherdosomereallydrasticshittome…feathers,oil…maybeevenleather.”
JeremyslowlygyratesonRusselltoemphasizehispoint,andRussellshoveshimaway.“Getthefuckoffme,freak.”
“Playtimeisover,”Ibark,pullingmyeyesawayfromCecelia,knowingthesecondSeanseesher,he’sgoingtofailtogiveusanythinguseful—despitetheassuranceshegaveTylerlastnight.ThesecondSeanhitthetopofthestairsafterdrivingCeceliahome,Tylerambushedhim,catchinghimandreaminghimoutinthehalljustoutsideofmybedroomdoor.Ididn’tbotherweighinginortakingpartintheargument.Afterrelayingthingswouldbe‘businessasusual’atthegaragetothoseinonoursecret,ImadepeacewiththefactthatCecelia’snothingbutanobstructionwehavetoworkaround.SeaneyedmeapprehensivelyjustbeforeIkickedmydoorclosedontheirargumentandwentbacktowork.
WhenSeantestedthewateratthecoffeepotthismorning,ImadeitclearIwasn’tinterestedashetriedinvaintogivemesomeofthe‘advantage’spielhedidTylerlastnightbeforeItunedthemout.
IgnoringthegraduallybrewingresentmentforSeananddraggingmyeyesawayfromCeceliaforasecondtime,Iclearmyheadforthebird’sfatecurrentlyrestinginmyhands.
“Thirteenminutesuntildeputydipshitcomesthrough,”IremindeveryoneonthelineasIscanthewarehouseentrance.“Vanthree,wherethefuckareyou?”
Peterspeaksup.“Abouttopullupnow,man.DennyandIgotstuckbehindafuckingtractor.”
CheckingthecameraattachedtoLayla’sF150,Ispotherleaningagainstheropentailgate—dressedprovocativelyasrequested—incaseweneedherasalast-minutedistractionforthesecurityguardwhochecksthewarehouselikeclockwork.
“How’sitgoing,ladybird?”IaskLayla,whosefocusisonthedirectionofsecurity’sroutineapproach.
“Allclear,”shesays,wastingnotimeinanefforttokeepthelineclear,especiallywithherfiancéinonthissecret.
Justafter,Icatchsightofthethirdvanastheypullintothedriveway,flyinginfromtheoppositedirectionofwhereLaylawaits.Skiddingtoastopnexttothefirsttwovans,DennyandPeterjumpoutandburstintomotion,openingthebackdoorsbeforepullinggloveson.
“Gotit,”Tylersays,openingthebaydoor.Withinseconds,theycollectivelydisappearinside.
Forasolidminute,Ihearnothingbutbickeringandgrumbling.“It’sdarkasfuckinhere,”Jeremygripesasasmallcrashsounds.“Weshouldhavebroughtflashlights.”
“Incaseyouidiotsforgot,”Isnap,“Therearenointeriorcameras.I’mflyingblind.”
Dennyspeaksupfirst.“We’vegotadozenstackedcratesandafewboxes.We’llneedtograbthedolliesifwewanttoclearit.”
Jeremychimesin.“Pryoneopen,man,andseewhat’sup.Wedon’twantSpencer’sancientcomicbookcollection.”
“He’snotgoingtohavesecuritycheckingthebuildingeveryfortyorsominutesforacomiccollection,jackass,”Tylersnaps.“Prythetopcratesopen…gently.”
“Twelveminutes,”Iwarn.
“Weneedmorecrowbars,”Tylerbarks,“Russell,backofmyvan.”
“Onit.”Russellfliesintomylineofsight,grabsablackduffle,anddisappearsbackintothewarehouseasJeremyspeaksup.
“Igotthefirstcrateopen…Whatthefuck?Tyler,overhere.”
“Elevenminutes.Tyler,talktome.”
Moreshufflingensues,thesoundsofthecratesbeingpriedopencomingthroughmyspeakersasSeanappearspoolsideonRoman’scameraasCeceliaemergesfromdoinglaps.Dennyspeaksup,stealingmyfocus.“Gotanotherone…fuck,thesecan’tbereal.”
It’sTyler’sreactionthathasmetensing.“JesusChrist.Thesearemilitary-grade,andtheysureasfuckaren’ttoys.”
Russellsoundsjustasshakenwhenhetossesin.“YousurethisisSpencer’swarehouse?”
Mypatiencethinsout.“Eightminutes,”Isnap.“Talktome.”
Tylerspeaksup.Hisvoicestrainedwithbarelyconcealedfury.“We’vegotsixcratesofM9sandMfucking16s,man.Alongwithbulletproofvestsandenoughammunitiontotakeouttengoddamncityblocks.GunsnofuckingCEOofanyfreightcompanyshouldeverbeabletogethishandsonwithouttherightconnections.”
Tylermakesitapointtowalkjustoutsidethebaydoorandlooksupatthecamera,atme,hiswarningclear.“Byconnections,Imeanmyfuckingtype.Thisisaboveourpaygradeforthemoment,andifthesedobelongtoSpencer,hefuckedupusingaflashlightcoptoguardthisplacebecausewhoeverthesedobelongtoisn’tgoingtoletitgowhentheyfindoutthey’remissing.What’syourcall?”
Mindracing,IreadymyselfforadeepdiveasIopenmysecondscreenandbegintyping.“Takethebulkofthegunsandsendmeeverythingonthem.I’mgoingtoseeifIcangetalineonwho’sinthemarkettobuyandwhichpiggyhasthemforsale.”
Tylerjumpsintothebackofhisvanandbeginstodumpthecontentsofsixlargeblackdufflebagsbeforeheturnsandbarksordersintothewarehouse.“Getthefuckoverhere!”
“Fiveminutes,”Ibark,logginginonmysecondscreen.Jeremy,Russell,Peter,andDennyleapintomyvisual,joiningTylerashepassesouttheemptyduffelswhiledolingoutfranticorders.“Gunsonly.Leavethecrateswehaven’topenedandswitchthebottomswiththetopssotheylookuntouched.Notasinglefuckingboxlooksoutofplace.I’llsweepup,GO!”
JeremyandDennyappearfirstwithbulked-outdufflebagsandloadthemintotheirvansasTyler,Russell,andPeterloadtheremainingvans.
Clickingonthestreetviewofthemainroad,IspotthesecuritycarhalfamileawayandgiveLaylatheheadsup.“Incoming,ladybird,standby.”
Laylagivesmeafastreply,pullinguphertailgatetotakeherwheel.“Ready.”
“Outoftime,”IclipasTylershutsthebaydoor,lockingitfrominsidethewayhefoundit.Insecondshereappearsfrombehindthecamera,leapingintohisvan.Allthreevansfireupandlineup,flyingtowardthegate—agatethattakesfifteensecondstoopenandclose.Secondswemightnothave.
“Ladybird,”Isayasthecardrawsaquartermileaway,“ifyoucouldpulloutslowlyinfrontofhimtobuyusafewmoreseconds,we’dappreciateit.”
“Onit,”shesaysasIclipoutmyordertotherestofthem.“Assoonasyoucanclearthatgate,floorit.Iwantyouhalfafuckingmileinfrontofthemallcop…Layla,now.”
TheblareofahornsoundsasthemallcoplaysonitwhileLaylacutshimoffandplaysherpart,layingonhersouthernaccent.“I’msosorry.It’smyfirsttimedrivingthisbigtruck!”
“Getthehelloutoftheway,lady!”
Whenthegateopensjustenough,allthreevansgunoutoftheparkinglot,speedingintheoppositedirection.
“Goodjob,ladybird,”Isay,watchingthegatecreeptowardclosed,heartthunderinginmychestfromtheadrenalinerush.
“Anythingformyboys,”Laylarepliesfondly.
“Ifyoutrulymeanthat,”Jeremyspeaksupasifit’sanoffer.Asecondlater,we’reallprivytoapainedgrunt.“…ouch,JesusChrist,Denny,I’mdriving!Suchajealousman.”
JeremycontinuestotortureDennyasItightenmyfists,breathbated.“Iwassimplygoingtoaskforalittletrim…ahaircut!Fuck!Layla,youdoknowyou’remarryingaNeanderthal,right?”
Laylalaughs.“Countingdownthedays.Seeyouathome,baby,”shesaystoDennybeforeshesignsoff.
Thesecuritycarappearssecondslaterandpainstakinglywaitsforthearchaicgatetoopenbeforeleisurelyturningintothewarehouseparkinglot.
“Allclear,”Ireportthroughalllines.
“Fuckinghell.Thatwastooclose,”Tylerraspsout.
Jeremypipesup,splutteringmorebullshit.“IsweartoGod,itfeelslikemyballsjustshrankalittle…ormaybetheygrew.Denny,takealook.”
“Jeremy,”Dennygruntsinhiszero-bullshittone,“youwhipanythingout,webothdietoday.”
Shakingmyheadwithagrin,Ikeeptheamusementoutofmyorder.“Gettothecompound.Denny,putthesedeepunderground.”
“Willdo.”
Shoulderssaggingwithrelief,Itossmyearpieceasthenewspopsupasprogrammedononeofmyscreens.Killingit,IcheckthemessageTylertextedaboutthegunswejustlifted,hopingImadetherightcallasIpreparetodescendintoanotherrabbitholetofindoutwhatthefuckSpencerisinto—happyI’mnowhereinTyler’scurrentvicinity.Rightaboutnow,themagnitudeofwhatwejustdiscoveredishittinghim,andthefactthatdirtymilitary—hisAchillesheel—maybeinvolvedhasmeshootingupasilentprayerforthosearoundhim.
GlancingbackatRoman’spoolcamera—whichgivesanampleviewofthepoolandalargeamountofsideyard—IcatchSeanstandingintheshallowendwithalitcigaretteinhand.Ceceliatreadswateratasafedistance,herposturesuggestingmistrustassheweighsupSeanwhiletheyconverse.AconversationIcan’thearbecauseRomanhasn’tupdatedhissecuritycamerassincehebuiltthehouse.
AsSeanlureshercloserwithhisprettyboycharm,hemakesitapointtolifthischininacknowledgmenttome.Justafter,Icommandthecamera’sredlighttoblinktwice,unsureifhe’llseeit.Liftingmyburner,Ishootoffatexttothebirdwaitingnearbytoscoophimup.KnowingIneedtoswitchmyfocus,Iobservetheirpostureforanotherfewsecondsandgetconfirmationofmyearlierassumption.Sean’sdoinganythingbutfuckingtakingnotesfortheclub’sbenefit,farmorefocusedondetailsforhisown.
Evenso,factsarefacts.Fornow,andbecauseofSean,we’reonestepclosertoaccessingthathouse.
I’veoftenhadaninklingthatRomanbuiltthatmansiontouseasanoverpricedsafe.Hissecretshiddensomewherebetweenthewalls,whichismostlikelywhyhekeepshisdistancefromit.
Timewilltell.
WhenSeanliftsfromthepoolafterourbirdpullsup,Ceceliawatcheshimsaunteroff,staringafterhimlongafterhe’soutofherlineofsight.It’sthenthatIgetmyfirstinkling.
Thiscouldwork.Exhaustedfromourwarehouseraidearlier,divingintotheethertoresearchwhatwediscovered,andthenworkingalongshiftatthegarage,Iglareattheassholeinfrontofme.He’stestingmylimitsthankstohisinvitationtothecomatosegirlonthecouchbehindhim.“I’mtakingher.So,makeanexcuse,”Igritout.“Ineedtoscopethehouse.”
“I’llgettoit,”Seanassures.
“Youwereinherpoolhoursagoandgotexactlyshit.You’vemilkedthisalreadywithinthelasttwodays,bothofwhichyousawfittoputherdirectlyinmyfuckingpath.”
“I’mnottryingtopissyouoff,”heswears.
“You’refailing.IsweartoGod,Sean.Ifyoumakethisaboutyourdick—”
“I’mnot,”hesnapsback,givingmeanirritatedjerkofhischin.“It’snotlikethat.”HeglancesbackoverhisshoulderwhereCeceliaisstillpassedoutduetotakingafewhitsofmybluntduringourexchangeinthelobby.
“It’sjust…”heturnsbacktome,“she’sbeenquestioningeverythingsinceminuteone.She’syoung,sure.Butshe’snotanemptyhead.FromwhatI’vegathered,she’snomoreafanofRomanthanweare.Ithinkthere’spotentialyoucan’tseebecauseyou’retoofuckingpissedofftotryandglimpseit.”Heexhalessmoketooclosetomyface,andIknockthelitcigaretteoutofhishand.
Litashesscatterdownhisarmandjeansashebatsitoff.“Thefuck,man!Whothefuckareyourightnow?”
“I’mtheguyyou’recurrentlyfuckingtogetintoherpanties.”
“Yeah,seeingashowyou’rebecomingmoreunrecognizabletomebytheday,andwehavetohandlethisjustso.YousureI’mtheoneintheway?”
Hedoesn’tbotherhidingthedoubtinhisexpressionashecontinues.“Igetwhyyou’repissed,butthebrotherIknowwouldneverletsomeonethisvolatilenearthissituation.So,youtellme,shouldItrustyoutohandlethisforallofus?BecausefromwhatI’vewitnessed,youscaretheshitoutofheralready.”
FromwhatI’vegathered,sheseemsmatureforherage.Toofuckingyoungtoknowbetter,butbraveenoughtocrossborderstostarttolearnherlessons.Sheallbutadmittedduringourbackandforthearlierthatshe’susingus,thissituation,asanexperimentforherownamusementtopissherfatheroffortestherself.Probablyboth.
Becauseknowingyourenemyisthemostimportantruleinthebook.UnlikeSean,Itookthetimetounderstandhertypicalbehaviorpattern.Holingupinagaragewithabunchoftattedmechanicsgettingstoned?Notonherresume.Sheevenwentsofarastocallme“Frenchman,”whichmeansshe’salreadybeenwarnedbysomeonewhocouldn’tspotmybrotherinafuckingtwo-personlineup.
EvenwhenIfull-outwarnedherthatbeingherewasn’tinherbestinterest,shedidn’tpausebeforeleapingoverthelineIdrew,enteringthegarage,andmakingherselfathomeamongstuswithSean’sencouragement.
So,whileshemightbeaskingtherightquestionsforanswersshe’llneveruncoveronherown,thisseemsmoreaclassiccaseofagoodgirlwantingtogobador,atleast,makebaddecisions
That’swhereIcomein.
Idon’tscareher.Iintrigueher.
Myblatantdisgustwithherinvasionofmylifeandspaceonlydrawsmorecuriosity,whichIwillusetomyadvantageassoonasIcanswathernewbodyguardaway.
ShiftingmyfocusbacktoSean,Istarepasthisbullshitreasoning—theimageofhisfingerscurlingaroundherearlierinaslighthintofpossessionfreshinmymind.“DoIevenneedtosayit?”
TheflickofhisZippoistheonlyanswerIgetforafewsecondsuntilheliftseyesfullofcontempt.“Yeah,Dom,maybeyoubetter.”
“Youwillingtofuckusalloverforher?”
“Yeah,I’minlove,”hespoutsdryly.
“You’refuckingsomething.”
“MaybeIam.Becauseshe’sgotrealheart,seemspureofsoul,andhasafuckingbrain.Webothknowshe’sinnocentinthis,”heemphasizes,“Iguesskeepingthatinconsiderationmakesmearealfuckingmonster.”
“I’mdrivingher.Figureitout.I’mnotasking.”
HeswallowsthefactthatIjustpulledrankforthefirsttimeinourrelationshipandIdiscardanyworryaboutwhatitmeansforus.HestepsbackandgivesmeaslightdipofhischinbeforestalkingovertoCeceliatocaressherawake.It’sthenIknowwho’sinrealdanger,andit’snotCeceliafuckingHorner.
Speakersbleedingwith“Bundy”todrownoutthepossibilityofconversation,Ican’tignoreCecelia’sfear-filledscreechasitmorphsintohigh-pitchedlaughterwhileIracetowardRoman’sestate.Evenwithmyagitationprominent,Ifailtofightoffthethreatofasmile,knowingshe’shighoffthis.Palmsonmydash,hairflyingaroundthecabinduetotheopenwindows,Iignoretheweightofherstarewhilesheanalyzesmeasshehasallnight.AfewofthelingeringgazesbetweenusIincitedearlierasIlickedmybluntwraplikeIlickpussy.Sheattemptedtoengagemeacoupleoftimesbeforeandsince,whichIwouldfindmoreirritatingifIdidn’tneedthatattentiontohookherwithoutniceties.
UnlikeSean,Iamdedicatedtoplayingmypart.
But…Idon’tdenyorlietomyselfabouttheattractionthathumswhensheleansovertopunchinherfather’sgatecodeasTylerpullsupbehindus.Despiteherattemptnottotouchme,hersilkyhairdragsalongmyforearmasIgetagoodwhiffofwhatevershe’ssprayedonbeneathheruniform.
Myeyesdrinkinherprofileforthefewsecondsshecrowdsmyspace.Tragicallybeautiful.
EvenifI’vesurprisedmyselfbybeingabletoappreciatethelookofher—unlikeSean—IhaveatalentforignoringitsinceIgotmyfirsthard-onandhavelearnedtomakegooduseofit.
ShruggingofftheallureofthebaitthatcurrentlyhasSean’sballsinavicegrip,Islowlyrollupthedrive,scanningthesurroundingsandtakingnotes.
ThoughI’veseenRoman’sfortressfromeveryangleandmemorizedthefuckingblueprintsbeforetheyhammeredthefirstnailin,thisismyfirstup-closelook.
MysuspicionsareconfirmedasIpullup.It’sthedistancefromanycovertothehousethatmakesgettingitwiredimpossiblewithoutdetection.AnyattempttodosowouldtriggeraninvestigationonRoman’sparttofindoutwhoandwhy.Somethinghe’sproficientindoinganddoingwell.Rightnow,he’sawareofeveryoneofhisearnedopponents…saveus
Weknowthisduetoyearsofsuccessfulsurveillance.Likeus,Romanpaysthosewhodohisdirtyworkwellenoughtokeephissecrets.
Thishousehasneverbeenahotspotforactivityuntilnow—andweneedin
She’stheway.
Pullingthroughthecirculardrivetothefootofthestairs,Ifinallyflitmyattentionherway.
“Idon’tknowwhethertoslapyouorthankyou,”shesays,deepbluegazerollingoverme.
“Youlovedit,”Icounterbeforeturningbacktowardthehouse.It’simpressiveenough,butinmymind,thisistheplacewheremyenemycurrentlydwells…sleepingmerefeetaway.Theclosestanyravenhasgotteninnearlyadecade.
WiththeGlockrestinginmyglovebox,Icouldendthislonggamepointblankwhilesimultaneouslygainingthefreedomtounleashonthemonsterswho’vetakenresidenceinmymind.Butinsidethehouseinfrontofmeresidesamonsterwhostolemychildhoodbyplottingmyparents’deathsforseeinghimbeneathhiscarefullyplacedveil.Whocovereduptheirmurdersandbrushedtheirchildrenawaylikedebriswithapayoff.Thesamesortofpayoffheseemstobeofferinghisownchildforarduousandunnecessarylabor.
WhatcouldCeceliapossiblyfuckingmeantohimifhe’ssowillingtoletherworkinthatfactoryafterignoringherforyears?
Nothing.Shecan’tmeananythingtohim.Shemaybeanothervictimofhisruthlessfuckingmindaswell.
Studyingthehouse,Iswallowthefactthatmyparents’expectationswereprobablysolowthattheirhumbleambitionshadthemlivinginahomeonlyafractionofthissize.Atthispoint,mybrotherandIcouldbuythismansionhundredsoftimesoverwithoutlosinganounceofsleep.Tobiasputusinthepositiontomakeitpossible.Ifhehadn’ttakentheriskshehas—andstillisinFrance—wherethefuckwouldwebe?
Lightyearsbehindwherewearenow.Andstill,neitherofushasarealplacewecallhometothisday.
Inthefewsecondsthatpasswiththesethoughts,IcanfeelCecelia’sslighthesitationtoexitmycar,asifshecansensewhatI’mfeeling.
Sheknows.
Ignoringthesecondtimethewhispercrossesmypsycheinthelasttwenty-fourhours,IcatchhereyesbackonmeaftersheexitsthecarandthanksTyler.Inthebriefexchange,remorseagainthreatens,thistimetwiceasstrongastherestofmyknownfactsaboutCeceliaflitin.
Likeme,shewasneglectedandsometimeslefttofendforherselfduetohermother’sindulgenttasteforvarietyinbedandboutswithalcoholism.Likeme,Ceceliawasalsostuckraisinganadult.AcommonalitythathasmebreakingourconnectionasTylerbidsherasaccharine-filledgoodnight.
Evenhe’snotimmunetoher.
Theinklosesagain.
AndfuckbothSeanandTylerforit.
Theinkexistsbecauseofherfather.
Fuckthembothforforgettingit.
I’msureashellnotgoingto.
Tippingpointapproaching,IjerkmychintoTyler.Thesecondhecloseshispassengerdoor,Ipressthegas,furyboilingthroughmeasIcatchsightofCeceliaintherearview,staring,stillfuckingstaring.
“Easy,man,”Tylersaysasifhe’sspeakingtoarabidcanine.“Igetthatyou’repissedoff.”
“Yougetnothing,”Isnap,takingthehardrightontothemainroad.“What’spatheticisyouandSeanboththinkyouhaveapersonalstakeinthis,butrightnow,I’mpayingthepricebecause,intruth,youfuckingdon’t.”
“That’snotfair,man,andfuckyouforsayingit.Youknow—”
“Doyourselfafavorandsaveyourspeech.”
Inmyperipheral,IseehimtenseinhisseatasIstarttodrivelikeIfuck.
“Damnit,Dom,you’renottheonlyoneinthefuckingcar!”
HecontinuesasIfloorthegaswhilehetriestoreasonwithme.
“Iknowshewasn’tpartoftheplan,andyou’vebeenputinafucked-upposition,butthisisn’tthewaytohandleit.”
He’sreaching,andheknowsit.BecauseofSean,I’mbeingforcedtoentertainthedaughterofthemanwhofuckingmurderedmyparentsforknowinghewasathief.Pullingbackuptothegarage,Ibrakehard,skiddingmyCamarotoastopasthegravelkicksbackonthebody.Withaglancetowardthebuilding,what’sbeenfesteringsincethemomentIlaideyesonCeceliastartstooverflow.TylerchallengesmeonthatfrontasIturntohiminastateofrage.“You’regoingtomakemesayit?”
“You’retoofuckingsmartforthis,Dom.”
“It’sapparentyou’renot,”Iclip.“Getthefuckout.”
“I’mnotleavingyoulikethis.Justpark,handmethekeys,andtalktome.”
“I’mnotasking.”
“Hedidn’tknow,Dom.”
“Whatthefuckisgoingon?”SeansoundsfrombehindTyler,alarminhistone,nodoubtforher
GlancingoverTyler’sshoulder,Ilockeyeswiththepersonclosesttomeandseered.IfIdon’tleaverightfuckingnow,thedamagemaybeirreparablebetweenus.SeanseemstoglimpseitinmyexpressionwhenTylerfinallyexitsmycar.Seanstartsatadeadrun,callingmynameasIraceoutoftheparkinglot.
Inthenextminute,Igoblack.It’sonlywhenIlosecontrolofthewheel—spinningoutinthemiddleoftheroad—thatIcometo,takingcontrolenoughtopullover.Stumblingoutthedriver’sdoor,Ifindmyselfinafreshlycroppedfieldasmychestheaves.Staringupatthestarlessskyabove,Ipinpointwhatsetmeoff.
Sympathizingwithmyenemy’sdaughter.
Imighthavedemandedtotakeherhometonighttofurtherourprogress,butSeanbroughtherin.Thishasforcedmetorecognizeherassomethingotherthanatarget.
Secondsorminuteslater,IheartheapproachandrepeatofhisNovaandturnintimetoseehimexit,headlightsilluminatinghimashereachesbackandfistsoffhisshirt.
Ashestalkstowardme,expressiongrim,Icatchtheresignationinhiseyes.
Hefuckingknewandignoredit.
“Bodyshotsonly,”heclips,justasIthroweverythingintomyfirstswing.“Renegade”blaresfrommywindowupstairsasIpressfromthebenchinoursideyard.Seanjoinedmeminutesago,wordlesslyfeelingmeoutashestartedpull-ups.Withinafewlifts,Ispottheknuckle-sizedbruisesonhisribsthathavealreadyfadedtoapaleyellow.RegretsnakesitswayinbecauseI’veneverlashedoutlikethat,evenifwe’vebruisedeachotherinthepast.Thoseweretestosterone-drivenscrimmagesbetweenpunkkids.Thistimeit’sdifferent,andIcansensethetollit’stakingwhenIcatchhiswearyexpression.Igotospeak,andheshakeshishead.“Don’t.We’regood,brother.”
Neitherofusbelievesthat,butmyreplyiscutoffbytheclangofthegateasTylerenterstheyardapproachingthetwoofus.“We’vegotproblems.Fattygotarrested.”
SeandropsfromthebarasIpausemid-pressbeforepushinguptherestoftheway.
“Onwhatcharge?”Seanasks,fishingoutacigarette.
“Solicitationofaprostitute,”Tylersupplies,disgusted.
Seangawks.“Pussy?Areyouserious?Washeinourfuckingvan?”
“No,”Tylerjerkshishead.“So,it’sstilloursecret.”
Seancupsthebackofhisneck,eyeingme.“Thankfuck.”
“Hewantsameeting,”Tyleradds.
“Ofcoursehedoes,”Seansnaps.“What’sourotherproblem?”
HelooksbetweenSeanandme.“Youknowwhatitis.”
Sean’sposturestiffensinpreparation.“We’vealreadyworkedthisout.”
Tylerdivideshisglarebetweenus.“IdidnotserveonetoomanyconsecutiveyearsinthefuckingMarinesforthehaircut,”hebarksatmebeforeturninghisvenomonSean.“AndIdamnsureamnotgoingtosacrificeeverythingweworkedforsoyoucangetyourdickwet.”
Seanshakeshishead.“She’snotathreattous,andyouknowit.I’mbeingcareful.We’vegoneoverthis.It’snotlikeI’mgoingtomarkher,butitsurefeelslikeyou’repissingincirclesrightnow.”
Tylerpressesin.Apparently,he’sjustasonedgeasSeanandIare.He’sbulkeduprecently,inmorewaysthanone.He’smoreauthoritativenow,whereasheusedtoletahellofalotmorerolloffhisshoulders.We’veallgotourownagendasincarryingoutourtasks,andFattygettingarrestedisonefuckingcomplicationtoomanyjustmereweeksin.Tylerrelaysasmuch.“You’reaskingtoomuchofmeonthisone.Thisisgoingtobackfire.Andwhenithappens—”
“Ifithappens,”Seancutsin,“anditwon’t,andwewouldn’tbeinthisfuckedupposition,”helooksbetweenus,“ifyoutwowouldhavetoldme.”
“Youwanttochimeinhereanytime,Dom?”Tylersnaps.
“Rulesofwar101,bro.Knowyourenemyandhisweaknesses,”IrelaytoSeanasIsetthebardownandlift,wipingmyfacewithmyshirtbeforetakingalongdrinkofwater.Lookingup,IreturnTyler’sunwaveringstare.“Themouseisalreadyinthetrap,man.Notmuchwecando.”
“Oh,Icanthinkofsomething.Manysomethings.It’snottoolateto—”
“Watchyourstream,man,”Iwarnhim,temperflaringthatIhavetoremindhimofthewhywecan’tcallFrance.“Nowyou’repissingonme.Yourobjectionisnoted,but,likeSeansaid,we’vealreadyworkeditout.”
Tylerjerkshisheadinrefusal.“Ourwindowisclosingtorectifythis.DoIneedtopointoutthatonewrongmovewillfuckustothepointofnoreturn?”
“Thefactthatwehavetodefendourselvestoyourightnowisbullshit,”Seanspits,snappinghisZippoclosedbeforepointinghislitsmoketowardhim.“I’mcutfromthesameclothandwearthesameink.Iknowhowfarbackthisgoesbecausewhenyouweredoingpush-upsandyelling‘hoo-fucking-rah,’Iwasoutonthesestreetsgettingourgametogether.Anddon’tthinkIdidn’tseeyoulickingyourchopstheminuteyousawher.”
Litcigarettedanglingfromhismouth,Seanpicksupmydumbbellsandbeginstodobicepcurls.“Iknowhowtoseparatebusinessandpussy,andI’veprovenmyselfmorethanonceonthatfront.”
Tylercallshimoutonhisutterridiculousnessashedoesrepswithsmokebillowingfromhismouth.“Needacheeseburgertogowiththatheartattack?”
Droppingthedumbbells,SeantakesadeepdragofhiscigarettebeforepuffingringstowardTylerasheissuesmorewarning.“Thesecircumstancesaredifferent,andyouknowit.”
“Theyaren’t,”Seanargues,“aslongasItreatthisliketheyaren’t,it’sbusinessasusual.Andwhilewe’reonthesubjectofpussy,Idon’tthinkI’mgoingoutonalimbherewhenIsayyou’reindesperateneed,brother.”
ThistimeTylerposturesup.“Fuckyou.”
“Iknowit’sbeenawhilesinceyou’vetrulymingledwiththefairersex,soI’llclueyouin,”Seancupshishandsoverhisnipplesindemonstration,“someonealittlemorepetiteinstature,fullerhips.”
Irritatedwiththepointlessbackandforth,IcutmygazeatTyler.“She’safuckingmouse.”
Tylerrearsonme.“Thatmouseisattachedtoafuckingmountainlion.”
SeanstepsforwardtograbTyler’sfocus.“YouthinkI’mgoingtoletanythingoranyonestandinthewayofadecadeofplanning?”Heblowsoutabreathoffrustrationashespotlightsthetwenty-tonelephantintheyard.“YouthinkIwoulddoFrancedirty?We’rehandlingit.”
“Doesn’tseemlikeyou’retheonehandlingshit,”Tylerasserts,notbudginganinch.
“It’sbetterthisway,”Ishrug.“Planschange.Weadapt.YouknowI’mnotknownformysparkle.Justletprettyboyheredotheheavyliftingwithher,andI’lltakecareoftherest.”
“Thatmaybethewayyourunyourfuckingsexlife,butit’snotthewaytomanagethis.”
Sean’seyesbulgeatthelowblowmeantformeandinchestowardTyler,foreverthevoiceofreason.“Thatwasfuckingwrongonsomanylevels,man.You’recompletelyoutofline.Youneedtostartseeingthisthewaywedo—asanopportunity.”
Tylerpounces.“YouthinkI’mfuckingstupid?Iseehowyoulookather,andit’sbeendays.You’renomoreincontrolthansheis.”
Sean’seyesflareinwarning.“You’rereallysayingthistome?”
Tylerglaresbetweenus,hisfeartangible.It’sclearthenthathethoughtIwouldreconsiderandcallFrance.Icanseehimmentallysiftingscenariosbeforesteppingbackandrunningahandthroughhislengtheninghair.Eventually,hisexpressionshiftsintooneofresignation.“Onlyforyoutwo.ButIsweartoGod,whenthisgoessouth,anditwill,youbothoweme,andIwillcollect.”Heglancesdownatme.“Sorry,man.”
Idon’tbothertoreplybecauseI’mtoocaughtupinthefactthatTyler’sblatantdigdidn’tstingasmuchasitshouldhave,andthatinstillsasortoffearinme.HaveIdetachedsomuchfrombasichumanemotionthatI’mbecomingimmune?
Sean’seyesalight,happywithhisvictory.HerestsacrookedelbowonTyler’sshoulder,fingeringtheshellofhisear.“Now,gofixmesomeeggs.Ifindyoualotsexierinthekitchen.Andifyouplayyourcardsright,Imaybewillingtotakeonefortheteam.”
Tylerattemptstoshrughimoff,awhisperofasmileliftinghislips.“Fuckyourself,mutt.”
Seanhooksaforearmaroundhisneck,pullinghimin,andTyler’snostrilsflare.“Jesus,youreek.”
Theybothstartofftowardthebackofthehouse,andSeanglancesbackatme,givinganexaggeratedslowwinkasTylergritsout,“Get.The.Fuck.Off.Of.Me.”
“Comeon,baby…justthetip,”Seancoosbeforetheyroundthecorneroutofsight.
It’smyfirstgenuinesmileinaweek.Thesettingsunlightsfiretothesky,soakingmysurroundingsinanapocalyptic-lookingorangehueasSeanpullsup.HestepsoutofhisNovainhisHornerTechuniform,usinghisnightshiftscheduledlunchhourtodealwithourlatestsetback.Offeringhimthebluntasheapproaches,hetakesitaswestandbetweenourcarsinthegravellotinanticipationofTyler’sdelivery.
Thebaydooropensbehindus,andsecondslater,RussellpullsournewlywrappedFleetHeatingandAirvanoutofthebay.Jeremyridesshotgun,dressedinhismatchinguniform,agiddygrinsplittinghisface.
“Despitesomehiccups,thatrightthereisabeautifulthing,”Seanmuses
JeremyandRusselllifttheirchinstousastheypasswiththeirmarchingordersfortomorrow—acollectionmissiontohelppaythebills.
“Can’targuethere,”Isay,watchingthempulloff.
Yearsago,wesetupseveralLLCsforalltypesofinkedtechnicianstomakeservicecallstoscopeoutlocationsforfutureheists.Notonlyhasithelpedusmicroplanrobbingourtargets,butitalsolegitimizedthebusinesseswithservicecallstoavoidtheLLCsbeingsuspectoncewemovein.Sincewe’vepulledthetriggerononeofourfirstbrainchildren,ourwarehouseisrapidlyfilling—somuchsoit’sclosetothetimeforadonation.
Seanpassesthejointbackinterruptingmythoughtswhilebringingmebacktothematterathand.“What’syourcallonFatty?”
“Youalreadyknowtheanswertothat,”Iexhale,pissedFattyisevenanissue.Yearsago,whenIagreedtolethimtakepartinoursecrets,Ihadonereservation.Beingprivileged,Fattyneverhadenoughskininthegame.
Seanshakeshisheadindisappointment.“Damn,man,he’sbeengoodforbusiness.Youknowhe’sloyal.Nottomentionhegetsthebestsmoke,”hesays,takingsaidsmokeback.
“We’vegotfusesliteverywhere,”Iremindhim.“Wecan’taffordthesekindsoffuckupssoearlyon.”
“WhydoIgetthefeelingyou’retalkingaboutmorethanFatty?”Hisstarehardens,andmylackofreplyonlypisseshimoff.“Comeon,Dom.Itoldyoutheinkwillalwayscomefirst.You,ofallpeople,knowIdon’tneedtobecheckedorchained.”
Idropthebluntandrunmybootoverit.“Allright,thentellmehowyouseethisplayingout.”
“Inourfavor,”heclapsmyshoulder,“always,brother,”heassuresasTylerpullsintothegarageparkinglotwithFattyintow.
Fattyexitsthetruck,eyesdartingbetweenmeandSeanasItakehimin.Despitehisnickname,he’snomorethanahundredandthirtypounds,andthat’sgenerous.Hispetnameisderivedfromthefactthathealwaysmanagestoscorethebestbudandrollsitlikeit’shisbusiness—whichheeventuallymadeit—thoughhe’snevergonewithoutadayinhisfuckinglife.
Thattruthisapparentashe’sledtowarduswearingdesignerjeansandshoeswithapricetagthatservesasabitchslaptohalfthepeopleinourtownstrugglingdailyjusttokeepthelightson.Sulkingasheapproaches,helookseverybitthesentencedmotherfuckerheknowsheisduetohisepicscrewup.Cuffsinvisible,butthere.
TylerextendsFatty’sphonetome.“He’sclean.Hispasswordisinyourtexts.”
OpeningmyCamaro,ItosshisphoneinmypassengerseatasFattystartspleadinghiscasetome.“Dom—”
“Youhadonejob,”Icutin,tonedeaftoanyexcusehehasprepared.“Tuckandguardthevan,anddon’tdrawanyattentiontoitoryourself,”Irelay.“Fuckingsimple.”
“Iwasn’tinit.”
“Shouldwefuckingthankyou?”Seansnapsbeforevoicingthequestionofthehour.“Fatty,whatthefuckareyoubuyingpussyfor?”
“Itwasn’tlikethatman.Ididn’tevenrealize—”
Annoyed,Irefusehimanytimeforthejury.“You’vebeenprinted.You’reofnousetous.Asyouwellknow,wedon’tassociatewithcriminals.”
Hisexpressionlightswithhope.“That’sjustit.Mylawyersaidwecanprobablygetthechargesreducedordroppedaltogetherbecauseitwasmyfirstoffense.Youcanstilluseme.”
“You’vebeenprinted.You’reout.”Irelaytheverdict,donewiththeconversation.“Noexceptions.”
“Comeon,Dom.Threefuckingyears…I’vegivenyoufreegreen.I’vedoneeverythingyouasked.”
“IfyouhaddonewhatIasked,wewouldn’tbehavingthistalk.”
FattyturnstoSean,asmanysooftendo.
“Comeon,Sean.Youknowyoucantrustme.”
Seanbacksmeup,refusinghim.“Wecan’thaveyouclosetous,man.Notnow.Maybelateron.”
Ijerkmychin.“Don’tfillhisheadwithbullshit.”Irelaymydecisionagain,temperflaringthathe’sstillappealinghisverdict.“You’reout.Hopethepussywasworthit.”
“Dom,you’veknownmesincefuckinghighschool.YouknowI’mloyal.Tellmewhattodotomakethingsright.”
FistingthecollarofhisoverpricedT-shirt,IslamhimagainstTyler’strucktoensurehehearsme.Tylerobjectswithan“easy,man,”asIglareatFatty,whosemouthisgapingbecauseI’veneverbeenthisaggressivewithhim—neverhadtobe.
“WhatIneedissomeonewhocanfolloworderstothefuckingletterwithoutputtingmyentiregoddamnfamilyinjeopardy.Doyouhaveanyideahowhardwe’veworkedtogettothispoint?Don’topenyourfuckingmouth,Fatty.Thatquestionwasrhetorical.Theanswerisno,youfuckingdon’t.Youwouldn’tknowanythingaboutthat,aboutrealpurpose,becauseallyou’veeverliveduptoisyournickname…afuckingstonerwhohasnoconceptofrealresponsibility.Youthinkthisisanegotiation?It’snot.Everyonewascountingonyou.Butyougotcockybecause,unliketherestofus,thisisjustahobbyforyou,richboy.So,whatcanyoudo?YoucanrememberIhaveyourfather’sfortune,yourmother’spension,andyourbabysister’scollegefundinthepalmofmyfuckinghand.”
FattysagsinmygripagainstTyler’struck.“Youdon’thavetothreatenme,Dom.Iwon’tsayshit.IknowIfuckedup.Thisisonme.”
Islamhimbackintothetruckagain.“Youweresaying?”
Heswallows,andhiseyesflarewiththeentitledangerIexpectfromsomanylikehim,buthedoesthesmartthingandkeepsthatshitclosetohischest.
“You’reright.Threatsaren’tnecessary,arethey,JonathanDanielGeorge?Solater,whenthatbuzzliftsandyoureachforyourteddybeartonight,rememberIhaveyourDNAandcanuseittoruinyourfuckinglifeinarealway.”Releasinghim,Iholdhisgaze.“Don’tforget.Wesilencebitterbabybirdsthatnevermakeitoutofthenest.Itwouldbeinyourbestinterestnottosmokethattruthoutofyourmemory.Getthefuckawayfromusandstayaway.”
SeanspeaksuptoconsoleFattyashepullsouthiskeys.“Thatwasfuckingstupid,man.Youweresoclose.”
Fatty’sreplyhasmeperkingupasheopensTyler’spassengerdoor.“Itwasn’tlikethat.Shemessagedme.”
Ithoughtasmuch,andnowIhavemoreworktodo.Anotherundertakingtoaddtomylistand,moreimportantly,aroguebirdtohunt.Sippingmymorningbrew,IeyetheNasdaqfeedscrollingatthebottomofmythirdscreen.Satisfiedwithourportfolio’sprogress,ItypeinmylastfewcommandsonanewprogramIdesignedandfireitoff.Inseconds,asymphonyofcharactersbeginstopopulateingreenacrossmysecondmonitor.Grinspreadingatthesightofit,Imentallypatmyselfontheback.Inthelastfewhours—duetosomediggingonourcratediscovery—Iunintentionallyensnaredalocalflywhosevibrationlandedheavilyonmyweb.Thishadmefollowinghimintoachatroomwherehemadeaninquiry.Fromthere,IlocatedhisIPaddressandsentanupdateforhisVPNprogram.Withinaminute,theflyclickedonthebaitthatIhaddisguisedinthesoftwarehebelieveskeepshiswebactivityhiddenbut,inreality,givesmeaccesstoeverysinglefuckingclickandcommandhe’severmade.
HomelandSecurityisamyth.Wearen’tprotected,we’rewired,andourbehaviorsareobservedandcollectedasdatatohelporchestratethestrategyonhowbesttomanipulatethemasses.
Thescariestpart?It’sfuckingworking.
It’snolongernecessaryfortheCIAtorungovernmentexperimentsusinghallucinogenstopracticemindcontrol.Alltheyhavetodointhepresentisinventtrapdoorswithintheglobaltechnologyusedbythemassesintheday-to-day.
Ironically,theonethingweneedprotectionfromisanysideofgovernmentweourselvesareelectingtopower.
Suspicionsconfirmedafterafewminutesofdiggingandobservation,Idecidetomonitorthisflycloselyinthecomingweeks—whichonlyaddstomygrowingtasklistofthingstobedealtwithsoonerthanlater.Interferenceatthispointisn’tpossibleduetotheever-increasinglistI’mcompilingbythedayregardingtheclubandmyplansforourfuturetargets.Butwhenthepremonitionhitshardagain,Idecidethisparticularflywillhavetotakepriorityatsomepoint.
Ilogoutaftertappingintothefly’sbankaccounttoalertmewhenanybulkpurchasesaremade,oranylargesumsarewithdrawn.
MymainpriorityforthemomentistohelpTyleruncoverRoman’smotivationtolureCeceliahere.
Achangeofheartregardingtherelationshipwithhisonlyheirdoesn’tseemlikely,nordoeshisregardforherfinancialfuturesincehe’sallowedhertoliveimpoverishedherwholefuckinglife.Herforgivenessordesireforanyrelationshipseemsunlikelyaftersomanyyearsapart.
Thenthere’sthepsychologyonRoman’sside.
Thefirstfactorbeinghisage.Agingmenwithicyheartstendtostartthawingwhenremindersofmortalitybegintoloom.Hisregretregardinghisonlychildcouldbethekey.
TylerandIhavehashedoutthislogicintheweeksCeceliahasbeenhereandremainskeptical.EspeciallysinceRoman’sstillrelativelyyoungandhasn’thadanyrecenthealthscares.
Andforanarrogant,callous,selfishfucklikeRoman,I’mnotconvincedhismotivehasanythingatalltodowithCecelia.NeitherisTyler.
There’smoretothis.
Somethingvitalwe’remissingandhavebeenmissing.Thisiswhywe’rehellbentonmakingsurethepicturewe’vebeenpaintingbynumbersovertheyearstoreflectanaccuraterepresentationofRomanisn’toffbyasingledigit
Nodoubt,Cecelia’sjustasconfusedasweareonRoman’smotives—eightyearstoolate—butmoneyhasalwaysbeenthegreatestofmotivators.
Thesolutionisintheproblem—thewhy
Inordertogetit,weneedtotapthatfuckinghouse,especiallyifhe’sgoingtobesleepingthereontheregular.Thoughherpresenceisaseriousinterference—andafterfailingtocomeupwithadefinitivemotive—Sean’spartink,partcock-inducedplanmighthavesomemerittoit.
Myhopesaresittingonallmybrothersatthispoint,bothininkandblood.
Botharedisappointingmeasoflate,andI’mlosingfaith.
Thoughthisplancan’tberushed,I’llbedamnedifIdon’tfigureouthowtotrytoexpeditetheprocesstosuitmytimeline.AsfarasIcansee,I’mtheonlyfuckingoneit’spaining—onallfronts—tokeepourcurrentspeed.
Whenmyphonerumbles,myhopesaredashedthatTobiashasreturnedmytextwhenIseeTATIEfillingthescreen,andIreluctantlyanswer.
Enteringthelobbyofthegarage—afterdealingwithmyauntforthebetterpartofmyday—I’mthankfulit’swellafterclose,whichgivesmetheprivacyIneedwithoutraisingotherbirds’suspicions.Headingtowardmytoolboxinthecommercialbay,IstopwhenIspotCeceliaspreadoutonthecouch,bookliftedandobstructingherviewofme.It’sclearshehadn’theardmyapproachduetotheearbudsshe’swearingandthewayshe’ssprawledout.Cheeksflushed,chestheaving,it’sthenIgetwhy.Whatevershe’sreadinghasherfuckingaroused,andIsuspectsecondsawayfromrubbingoneout.Temptedtositbackandwatchithappenfortheabilitytofurtherfuckwithher,myannoyancewithherinvasionwinsandhasmestalkingtowardher.
CeceliacatchessightofmeasInearandjackknives,pullingherearbudsoutasshesputtersanexplanationastowhyshe’shere.“I’mn-notalone.Imean,Iamrightnow.S-Seanjustwenttograbapackofcigarettesandbeerswiththeguys.”
Eyeingtheprintsizeofthebooktoavoidlookingather,Irealizethegarageisn’ttheonlyoneofmysafehavensshe’sinvadedrecently.
“Wheredidyougetthat?”Iask,gloweringatherfromwhereIstandattheendofthecouch.Shenervouslycrosseshertonedlegsattheankles,nolongeratease.
Good.Sheshouldn’tbesofuckingcomfortableinanyofmyspaces.
Glancingdownatherbook,abarely-theresmileliftsherlipsbeforeshespeaks.“Thelibrary.Icheckeditouttheotherdayandsnuckoutanother.It’skindofatradition.”I’malltooawareofherlittletradition.ShewastakingpartinitthefirsttimeIsawher—whichwassupposedtobethelast.Rightnow,Ifuckinghatethefactthatitwasn’t.
“Stupidfuckingtraditionconsideringthebooksarefree…andthelibraryisofflimits,”Igrowl,knowingwhatafuckingidiotIsoundlike.“Also,thisisnotacommunityplayground,despitewhatSeanmighthavetoldyou.Findsomewhereelsetospreadout,”Ispit,eyeingthescrapoffabricshe’sexcusingasadress.
Shescoffs.“You’reseriouslysayingthepubliclibraryisyours?”
“Thewholefuckingtownismine,Cecelia.”
Herperfectfeaturesdistortintoanger,intensifyingherbeautyasshestandsquickly,losinggriponthehardback,whichlandswithathwackonthefloorbehindher.Turningtoretrieveit,shebendsatthewaist,inadvertentlygivingmeashow.Betweentanned,tonedthighs,Ispotastripofcobaltbluepanties.Thethinmaterialshiftswithhermovementgivingmeapeekofherpussyasshepainstakinglybendsinchbyinchtoretainsomemodicumofmodestyandfails.Inwardlygroaning,Ikeepmygazefixedwhereitshouldn’tbeassherethinksherstrategy.Bendingattheknees,shepalmsthecouchtostayupright,backramrodstraightasIcleartheothersideofthecoffeetableandsnatchitupbeforeshereachesit.
Eyeingthetitle,TheBronzeHorseman,Ismirkandlookupather,makingsuremyexhalehitsthegapbetweenherthighsasIslowlystand,palmingthecouchandmimickingherridiculousmovement.“Mightwanttoreturntheeight-year-oldsdressyouborrowedifyouplanonspendingtimeinaplacefilledwithheavymachinery.Thenagain,don’tbother.Thisparticularstopwon’tbefrequentforyou.”
“You’relikeadarkcloud.Youknowthat?Can’tspotasinglesunrayforshitwithyouhovering.”
“Justsolongaswe’reclear.”
“Thatyou’reanentitled,ragingprick,”sheuttersunderherbreath,“we’recrystal.”
Bendingtoeyelevel—thetipsofournosesclosetobrushing—herdeepbluesdilateasIinvadeherspace.“Assumewhatyouwillaboutme,orbetteryet,”Ipressthebookintoherheavingchest,andherglossypinklipspart.“Stickwithyourbullshitfantasiesofvirtuousheroesinanonexistentreality.You’remuchsaferthere.”
Turning,IgrabwhatIneedtofillmytoolboxbeforestalkingoutthesidedoor.EveryhaironmybodystandsonendasIadjustthehard-onstrainingagainstmyzipper.Onceagain,I’vebeenforcedawayfrommysecondhomeinordertoavoidmoreexposuretoherandthewayshestaresatme—toofuckingmuch,fortoofuckinglong.Atfirst,itseemedinnocentenoughandserveditspurpose.Nowit’sgratingonmebecausenomatterhowmanytimesIavoidhercuriousstare,Ieventuallylookbackather.WhenIdo,I’mremindedofwhyI’vebeenavoidingherforthefewweeksshe’sbeenhere—areasonmybodynolongerrefusestoignore.
Theneedtofuckher.
Morethanthat,IwanttodoitinawaythatpunishesSean’sprizednewpetwhilemakinganexampleoutofher,sohefinallygetsthegoddamnedmemo.
Sean’ssmitten,it’sobvioustoeveryone,andit’sjustamatteroftimebeforehefucksher—ifhehasn’talready.Butsoon,he’llbemadeawareofjusthowmuchhefuckedup.Nomatterhowperfectourenemy’sdaughteris—andIcanadmitthatmuch—she’sgettinginthewayofouragendaand,moreimportantly,ourfriendship.
Evenifshe’snothingmorethanadefenselessmousecaughtinatrapwedidn’tset,she’sgotRoman’sbloodpumpinginherveins.I’llmakeitapointtomakefuckingsureSeanstartstoseeitthatwaybecausehisassurancesaregettingweakerbytheday.
Stalkingthroughthegraveyardofcarsatthebackofourshop,IspottheoneIhaveinmind.Iheadovertoit,pissedIdidn’tdragashoplightoutwithmeasthesunthreatenstoset—theneedtokeepmydistancetakingprecedence.
WithCecelia,Idon’tlikewhoIamortheeffectshehasonmewhenwe’rearoundeachother.
She’sararetypeofflamefartooclosetomyfuse—whichisshorteningbytheday,somebecauseofherinvasion,mostofitduetotheconstantnightmaresloopinginmymind.
Despitemyactions,ItakelittlepleasureinhowI’vetreatedher.LikeTobias,Iseewomenasinnocentbystandersofourcause.Thismakesthemaninconvenienceafterweusethemforourselfishpurposes—whichiswhyIdon’thookupoften.MyprogressioninthatdepartmentisstuntedbecauseofwhatIhavetooffer—whatI’vealwayshadtoofferwhenitcomestowomen—nothing.
Atthispoint,it’saboutprotection.Cecelia’sallureisjustasfuckingdangeroustousasitistoher.OpeningthehoodoftheBuick,Iaddanothertasktomylist—toproveittoSeanbeforeshedoes.“AnalarmingnumberofwarehouserobberieshavetakenplaceindowntownCharlotteinthelastthreedays,costingfreightshippingmogul,AnthonySpencerofExportExecsanestimated1.8milliondollarsinmerchandise,”theradioanchorreportsasIpulluptothewarehouse.
IdlinginmyCamaro,Iscanourbustlingcompoundasthereporterdroneson.“AuthoritiesbelievethatSpencerisbeingdirectlytargeted,butthepolicehavenoleadsatthistime.Theyaskifanyonehasanyinformation—”
Killingtheengine,IexitasPeterbackshisFleetvanintothewarehousenexttoJeremy’s,whichisbeingunloadedtoaddSpencer’smerchtoourstockofgoods.
LoadeddolliesarecartedtowardthewarehouseasDennystopsthemtakinginventorybeforethey’rehauledin.Russellpullsthelastvanupassatisfactionrunsthroughme,andIshootoffatexttoTylerinwaitforSean.
Allbirdssafelyinthenest.
Jeremyexitsthedriver’ssideofhisvanandmakeshiswaytowardme,prideevidentinhiseyes.Peterisonhisheels,andhisexpressionislitwiththesamesentiment.It’searnedbecauseit’soneofPeter’sfirstmajorscoreswhilebeingapartofoursecret.
“Where’sSean?”Iglancebackattheopensecuritygate.
“Ceceliaaskedhimtoteachherhowtodrive,andtheytookoff,”JeremysuppliesstalkingtowardwhereIstandjustoutsidemydriver’sdoor.“Wegrabbedthevansandcamejustafter…butdidyouseeherinthatfuckingdress?Idon’tthinkI’dshowupforrollcallifIhadthatassinmydriver’sseat,either.”
RusselljoinsuswithPeteronhisheels,bothseeminglyjustashighfromthetake—astheyshouldbe.Everythingwestolewasliftedwithoutsoundingasinglefuckingalarmuntilafterthefact.
Justafter,eachbirddrovetheloadedvanstodifferentsafehousestolaylowforafewdaysuntilwecouldgetthemherewithoutdetection.Justincasetheywerespottedinconjunctionwiththerobberiesandsuspicionswereraised.
TheextrastepsarenecessarysincethelocalpolicearestillinRoman’spalmsduetoyearsofovergenerouscontributions.Butourtimeiscoming.Thislatestlong-awaitedeggisfinallyhatchingasSeanresumesdiggingatHornerTech—inevitablycomingupasemptyashedidthefirsttimeheworkedthere.
Tome,we’recontinuallybeatingadeadhorsewiththatroute.AnyevidenceofRoman’scover-upwasnodoubtdestroyedandsweptupthenightmyparentsperishedinthatfire.So,whileSeanbeingbackatTechisawasteoftime,allisn’tlostbecausehiscurrentstationhashimkeepinganeasywatchonCecelia.
It’sRoman’schokeholdonherregardingherinheritancethat’smakingithardforSeantogainfullaccesstothehouse.RomanberatedherbyemailondaytwoforhavingSeanover,statingthatvisitorsaretobekepttoaminimum.We’vedecidednottopressitbecausewedon’twanthiminvestigatingthecompanyshe’skeeping.
Inthelastfewdays,I’vemadepeacewiththefactthatCeceliawillbemoreofafixtureatourgarageuntiltherightopportunitystrikes.ThatwasuntilSeandecidedtoinvitehertonightofallfuckingnights—prolongingourdeliverytothewarehouse.Whichiswhywewerehavingwordsbeforeandaftersherolledup.
Fornow,wehavenochoicebuttoallowherintoourspaceandmixherinwherewecan.Thismeansexposinghertoallofusandkeepshercurious,noticingtoomuchformycomfort.
Whichremindsme…
“Youhearthenews?”Jeremyboasts,steppinguptomeasIeyetheskimaskstillhangingfromhisbackpocket.“It’severy-fucking-where,andtheydon’thaveshit.”
“Thenews,”Inod,“Yeah,okay,let’sstartthere.”
Jeremy’sbrowspullinconfusion,asdoesPeter’s,andRussellstiffenswhenIturntohimandholdmyindexfingerateyelevel.
“Whatareyoudoing?”Jeremyasks,dartinghiseyesbetweenmeandRussell,agoofygrinplasteredonhisface.
“Thinkofmyfingerasthenews,Jeremy,”Iutter,movingmypointerbackandforthjustinfrontofRussell’snose.Hiseyesfollow,hisownexpressionconfounded.
“Watchingthenews,Jeremy?”Isnap,slowlyrunningmyfingerbackandforthalongRussell’slineofsight.
“Yep,”Jeremysays.Hisquickreplyisjovial,asifhe’sinonmyjoke.
IrunitpastRussellonelasttimeandholditbeforesucker-punchingJeremywithmyfreefist.
“Mderfucker!”JeremygripshisnoseasRussellandPeterburstintosurprisedlaughter.
“Dafuck,Dom?!”Jeremygroans,tonemuddled,eyeswatering.
“Seewhathappenswhenyoupayattentiontothediversioninsteadofwhat’sgoingoninyourownfuckingreality?”
Jeremyexamineshisbloodyfingers.“Youcouldhaveusedadifferenttactictogetyourpointacross,dickhead.”
“Icouldhave,”Isay,snatchingtheskimaskfromhisbackpocketandholdingitouttohimtoreiteratemypoint,“butnowyouknowwhyIdidn’t.”
Guilt-filledeyeslifttomineashedrawstheconclusionintended.
Ceceliaspottedtheskimaskhangingoutofhisbackpocketearlierwhiletheywereshootingpoolandspokeupaboutit.AconversationIhadn’tgottentohavewithhimyet,andjustmadeunnecessary.EvenifJeremyplayeditoffexpertly,itdrewmoresuspicionfromher.
“Sorry,man,”Jeremygritsout,“Ifuckedup.”
“Youthink?”Idrawoutinmonotone.
“Won’thappenagain,handtoGod,man.Myfuckingbad.”
“Yeah,nexttime,leavethefuckinguniformathome,especiallywhenyoudidn’tevenneedit…andyouknowwhothenewsiscontrolledby,”Iremindhim.“You’rebetteroffbelievingconspiracytheoristsatthispoint.Atleastthere’ssomemeritthere.”
“So,TupacisaliveandwellandlivinginCuba?”Jeremysnarks.
“Youknowbetterbecausetheyexterminateallthetruthtellers.”
“YouNostradamusnow?”Jeremyantagonizesduetohisswellingnoseandbatteredpride.
Steppingintohisspaceasheretreats,Icommandhisgaze.“Yeah,I’maprophet,andhere’smyprediction.Whenthosedolingouttheselectedforecasthaveeveryonepanickingaboutthepriceofanappleandatankofgassotheycansneakmorecontrolthroughproposedlegislation—havingalreadytakenfreedomsfoughtforandwondecadesago—we’reallfucked.”Ipalmhischestandlightlyshovehim.“That’swhywecan’tgettoocockyorparadearoundlikeidiots.There’stoomuchatstake.”
Henods,wipinghisnosewithhismaskasIputhiminaheadlockandroughlyknucklehisscalp.“Andwealreadyknowtheydon’thaveshit.”Breakingmyhold,Jeremylooksovertome,eyesassessingasIgivehimdueprops.“Otherthanyourshittyoversight,youdidgood.”
HisexpressionlightsupatmyrarepraisebeforeIturntoRussellandPeter,“youtoo.”
PeterbeamsashelooksoverthedolliesfullofmerchbeingunloadedbyrecruitsasRusselluttersalow“thanks,”seeminglylostinhisthoughts.
Punintended,Russellisararebirdwho’snodoubtstillmullingovermywords.He’smadeitclearhisgoalistorunhisownchapteratsomepoint,sohe’salwayspayingcarefulattentiontoourwords,actions,andstrategies—especiallymine.Ofallourcircle,heandIhavethemostincommon.
Likeme,RussellcomesfromafamilyofimmigrantswhocametotheUStoseekapieceoftheillusion.HismotherwasbornandraisedJapanese;hisfatherwasamilitarybratraisedontheYokotaAirbase.Thesecondhisdadwasofage,hemarriedRussell’smotherandbroughtherbacktotheStatestoseekhispieceoftheAmericandream.WhatRussell’sdadfailedtorealize—bynotreadingthefineprint—isthatifyougainsuddenfortuneofanykind,itbetterbeinthemulti-millions.BecauseonceUncleSamisflagged,he’llbecomingforhisportion,whichisonlyafewpercentagepointsshortofthelion’sshare.AndifyouspendyourAmericanUncle’smoney,hebecomesaloanshark,andifyoudon’tpay,thereimbursementisfreedom.ThejudgemadeanexampleoutofRussell’sdad,leavinghimfatherlessformostofhisformativeyears.We’realotalikeinthatRussellisalsomoreofamanofactionandrarelyfeelscomfortablesayingmorethanafewsentencesunlesshe’ssurroundedbyus—hischosenfamily.
LookingoveratJeremyandPeter,Icanfeeltheexcitementofwhat’sbrewingbetweenus,allgrowingupinsimilarcircumstances.Feralkidswithnoonelookingfororcallingushomewhilewedidthebestwecouldwithourdealthands.
Jeremysniffs,hisnostrilscoatedinredasremorsekicksinfortheshitIjustpulled.He’sboundtofuckuphereandthere,asweallareuntilhecanflysolo.SameasPeter,whosefreshinkisinthemidstofscabbingover.
TylerenlistedPeterinajailcellthecopshadlockedhimin,inthehopeitwouldscarehimstraight.Hewasanunprintedjuvenileonthevergeofalifeofcrime—whichmadehimaprimecandidateforus.Whatthecopsdidn’tknoworcaretorecognizeisthatanemptystomachisamajorfuckingmotivator.Peterhadturnedtothievingtokeeptheelectricityoninthesadexcuseofatrailerheresidedin—whichTylerhadrelayed‘hadagapingholeinthefloor.’HisshortstintinburglarywasanattempttofeedhisinfantsisterafterhisabusiveDadbailed.
Glancingbetweenthethreeofthem,Ihatethefactthatwehavetheseparticularsincommon.UnlikeFatty,thebirdssurroundingmehavemajorskininthegame.Andit’sourjob—myjob—toensureanymistakesmadeatthispointarefewandreversible,andI’vebarelyhadasparesecondtoputthetimeinwithanyofthemsinceIgotbacktoTriple.
“Getsomerest.We’rejustgettingstarted,”Iwarn,pullingoutmykeys
“Whereyouoffto?”Jeremyasks,suckerpunchforgiven.
“Shittodo.”Moreimportantly,abirdtofind.
“Hey,Dom,”Peterspeaksup,hesitationevidentbeforeheliftsashame-filledgazetomine.“Inourhaul,Isawsomecoloringbooksand—”
“Takeit,”Isay,lookingbetweenthethreeofthem.“Takewhateveryouwantorneed.JustmakesureyoulogitwithDenny.”
“Thanks,man,”Petersays,eyesalight,headingtowardthecompoundwithJeremy.Russellhesitatesbeforeturning.
“Somethingonyourmind,man?”Icalltohisback.
Hestopshisretreatintothebuildingandglancesbackatme.
“I’mjust…thanks,Dom.”
“It’swhatwedo,”Itellhim.“Rememberthatifguilt-inducedinsomniahitsanytimesoon.”
Hislipslift.“Trustme.Itwon’t.”
“Goodtohear.”
Weshareagrinbeforeheturnstoheadinside.Watchinghimwalkawaytojointheothersincelebration,asenseofpridefloodsme.
It’sworking.
We’retakingcareofourown.It’snolongerplanninganddaydreamingaboutourfuture.We’relivingit.Alloftheplottingandtheefforttogettothispointisprovingworthit.Decidingacelebratorybluntisinorder,andthatthere’sonlyonebirdIwanttoshareitwith,IcheckmyphonetoseeSeanhasn’trespondedtomytext.AllhopesofcelebratingwithhimdashedasIpullupthetrackingappattachedtohisNovatoseehe’sparkedonsomedead-endbackroad.
Nobigfuckingmysteryastowhathe’sdoing—Cecelia.
Behindthewheel,Ifireupmycarasmyphonerumbles,atextfromTylerfillingmyscreen.
T:Gotabiteontheline.
AlittleweighteasesfrommyshouldersasIreply—atleastTyler’sfocused.
Byallmeans,reelitin.Thefollowingnight,Seanstandsjustoutsidehisdriver’sdoor,hisphonetohisear.IkickbackagainstmyCamaroinwait,scanningthetoweringmountainsinthepitch-blacksky.Hecoosintothephone,catchingmygazebeforegivingmeadrawn-outwink.“YouknowIcouldtuckyouinproperlyifyou’dletme.”
Uninterestedinhisperformance—whichseemstobeformybenefit—Ijerkmychintogethimtohurryitalongsowecangettowork.
“Agreetodisagree,”Seanreplies,ignoringmyprompt.“Youneverdidtellmeaboutyourdreamthismorning.”
Hewaitspatientlyforherresponse.“Ihaven’tgivenyouenoughalready?Ouch.You’regoingtopayforthat…metoo.Seeyoutomorrow.Night,Pup.”
SeanclipshisphoneclosedbeforelockingitintohisNova,hisotherhandholdingtheGlockhe’shadtrainedonClintsinceIpulledup.
Tylerfoundourdirtybird.
IttookafewdaystolureClintinafterTylersetthetrap,butSeansteppedin,takingresponsibilityonceTyleridentifiedhim.
Clintwhimpers,kneelingatourfeet,lookingeverybitthestrung-outjunkieheis.Litbyourcollectiveheadlights,hissunkeneyesdartaroundashetriestoconstructanadequateexcusetohelphimoutofhiscurrentsituation
Seanripsoffthemaskingtapethat’smufflingClint.WhenIstepforward,Seangivesmeanadamantshakeofhishead.“Thisisonme.”
Idipmychin,thoughI’mdyingtounleash.Butrulesarerules,andwhenitcomestoSean’sownrecruits,it’shiscall.SeankneelsinfrontofClint,casuallydrapingthegunonhisthigh.“Youthoughtwewouldn’tfindout,Clint?Isthatwhatyouthought?”
Clint—alreadyonthevergeofsobbing—speaksup,“Ij-justn-needed—”
“Oh,Iknowwhatyouneeded,”Seansnaps.“It’sonethingtopoisonyourselftothepointyougotcutoutofsecrets.It’sanotherentirelytospreadthatpoison.”Seanleansin.“Thinkwewouldn’tpinpointhowFattygotpinchedandprinted?Didyouthinkwewouldkickhimoutandleaveitthere?Youyourselfshouldknowthatwedon’thalf-assanything.That’showwekeepoursecrets.”
SeanpullsaprescriptionbottlefromhispocketandshakesitinfrontofClint’sface.“Youknowwhatthatsoundis,Dom?”
“What’sthat?”
Seanobnoxiouslyshakesthebottleinataunt.“That’sajunkie’smatingcall.”
SpittlerunsfromClint’smouthashespeaks.“I’llgetclean.I’lldowhateveryouwant.”
“Hearthat,Dom?”Seansnapswithdisgust.“He’lldowhateverwewant.HisgirlfriendOD’sthreeweeksagoandbarelysurvives,butthisishiswake-upcall.”Seanuncapsthebottlebeforebalancingthesmallpillonthetipofhisfinger,andClint’seyesfollow.“Yougothookedandpoisonedeveryonearoundyou.Butthenyoulostyourspotwithusandyourrespect.Nobirdwantedtodealwithyouorletyouinontheirsecrets,soyoutookituponyourselftosellFattyouttostealfromyourown…I’mgoingtogiveyouonefuckingchancetoconfirmwhatIalreadyknow.”
Clintnodsandsniffs.“FattyandIweresmokingaspliffathisplaceafewdaysbefore,”hisexpressionfalters,asdohiswords,asthefearofhisconfessioneatsathim.
SeandipshischinasClintsputtersouttherest.
“I-I-spottedoneofthevansathisplace.Itwasunderatarp,butIknewwhatwasgoingdownbecauseI’ddonetheservicecallsinthepast,andI’dbeentryingtogetinonit…”heharshlyexhales,closinghiseyesasSeanpressestheGlocktohisforehead
“And?”
“Noonewouldletmeridepassenger,soIscopedFatty’shousewaitingonhimtoleave.Iwasn’tgoingtotakeitall,justalittleoffthetop…Iswear.”
Seanshootshimawitheringstare,fedupwithhishesitation.
“Buth-hewouldn’tleavethevan,soIgothimdistracted…I-Iknewthegirlandofferedhersomemoney,butIdidn’tknowshewouldgetpoppedthatnight…,”heshakeshishead,“thatwaspurefuckingcoincidence.Ididn’tmeanforhimtogetpickedup.Iwastryingtobuytimetogetsomemerchtosell.You’vegottobelieveme,man.Iwouldn’t—”
SeanpressestheGlockinhardersoClint’sheadisforcedbackafewinches.“Youfuckingdid.AndFattylosthischanceatgettinginkedintheprocess.That’ssofuckingcold,man.Must’vestungwhenyoufoundthevanempty.Youcostusadecentbirdwiththatbullshit.”
Seansighs,lookingoveratmeasClintsputtersmoremeaninglessapologies
“I’msofuckingsorry,Sean.”
“Thesaddestpartis—thatknowinghowwework—youthoughtyoumightgetawaywithit.”Seannodstowardme,andIgripClint’sheadasSeanforceshimtotakeapill.
ClintgaspsbeforeSeanclampshismouthclosed,uncappingawaterandforcingClinttodrinkandswallow.Seantapsoutanotherpill,andClintfearfullyeyesthebottle.AsSeanmovesin,Clintholdsuphisboundwristsinauselessattempttoprotecthimself.
“S-Sean,please.Ican’t.”
“What?Don’tlikeOXYanymore?Isn’tthiswhatyouweregoingtostealfromyourbrothersfor?”
ClintlooksupatSean,hisexpressionpathetic.“Sean—”
“Stopsayingmyfuckingname.YouthinkIdon’tknowthepsychologyinthat?Youthinkit’sgoingtochangemymind?Makemethinktwice?”
Seanexhalesslowlyindisappointment.“Iknowyou’refleshandbone.Iknowyouconsistofheartandsoul.Butyourswentinthewrongdirection.It’swaytoolatetopleadyourcase.Openup.”Seanforce-feedsClintanotherpillandcapsthebottlebeforestandingandlightingacigarette.SnappinghisZippoclosed,herunshisthumbalonghislowerlipasheweighshisnextwords.
“Goddamnit,man.Idon’tfuckingenjoythis,Clint.Noneofusdo,butyourjunkiejudgmenthadyouignoringoneofthemostimportantfuckingrulesandbetrayingthepromiseinkedonyourskin,andwecan’tletthatgo.Youknowthat.”
Hedragsoffhissmoke,postureresigned.“Thisissomuchmoreimportantthanmeoryou—thananyofus.Itookyouundermywing.IgaveyoueverythingIhad,andyoudomelikethis?Therulesaresimple.Nodrugs,noguns,andnoinnocents.Wedon’tbuy,trade,orsellpeople,andwesureasfuckdon’tselloutourown,butyouwerewillingtobarteryourownbrothertogetafuckingfix.”
ClintshakeshisheadindenialasIapproachfrombehindandcockmyowngun,pressingittothebackofhisgreasyhead.“Iwonderifanyonewillmisshim.”
Clintscreamsinprotest.“Wait!Wait!”
Seanlooksovertome.“Shouldwewait,Dom?He’salreadypickedhispoison,haven’tyou,Clint?Overyourself,overthepeopleyoulove,overyourfuckingbrothers.”
Clintattemptstohanghishead,andSeanfistshishair,forcinghisgazebackup.“No,man.Nobodygetstofuckmewiththeireyesclosed.”
“Sean,I’llfixthis.I’llgetbetter.”
Sean’seyesdeaden,andIknowplaytimeisoverwhenhespeaksup.“It’sfunnythatyou’repleadingwithme.AndIgetit,”hegesturestowardme.“Domlookslikeamenacingmotherfucker,butme?Ipaintadifferentpictureandmostlyrepresentituntilyoufuckwithwhatmatterstomemostandwell…”Seantosseshiscigarettedownandgrindsitoutwithhisbootbeforeuncappingthebottleandpalminganotherpill,hisexpressionlethal,“…thisiswhereIstartlookingscary.”
Clintopenshismouthwithasoundlessgasp,spittlerunningdownthesidesbeforeSeanforcesanotherpillintohismouth.Clintspitsitout,chokingouthispleas.“F-fuckman,p-please.Youknowme.”
“ThoughtIdid,”Seansays,tiltinghishead.“Areyouevensalvageable,Clint?Iguessthat’sthequestionbeingposednow,right?Goodfrombad,rightorwrong.Areyouthebadguy,oramI?MaybeI’mboth.ButI’mtheonewhobroughtyouin,andthereforeyouaremyresponsibility.Clearly,myjudgmentwasskewed,andyourfuckingmemoryislackingbecauseyouforgotthatwhenyoufuckwithoneofus,youfuckwithallofus.Time’sup.”
Clint’seyeswideninhorrorasTylerpullsupinhiscarandexits,dressedlikemidnight,ballcappulledlow.Tighteningblackglovesonhisfingers,TylertakesaspotnexttomeasSeanshakesthebottleinfrontofClint’sfacetoregainhisattention.
“Howmanyistoomany?”HeleersatClint.“Shouldweplayroulettewithyourlifethewayyoudidwithmyclub?Wouldn’twantyoutomissyourfix,openup.”SeanshovesthepillinClint’smouth,andClintagainspitsitoutashesputtersuselessapologies.“I’msorry.I’msofuckingsorry.Ididn’tmeanforittogothisfar.”
Seanscoffs.“TellthattoFatty.Hopethishighisthelowestyoueverget,man.Itrulydo.HowwillIeverbeabletotrustyouwiththatinkagain?”
Tylerstepsforward,hisexpressionvoidofallemotionashestaresdownatClintinfullexecutionermode.
Clint’seyeslight,hopeinhistone.“Icanp-proveit.Inm-mygloveboxismysecondburner.You’llseemytexttoher.You’llseethewholeconversation.Ididn’ttalktoanyoneelse.Itwasjustmeandher,Iswear.AndallIofferedherwasmoney.Sheneverknewwhy.”
“Youbetterfuckingprayit’senough,”Seanspits,exhaustingthelastofhiswrath.
TylerreadsSean’sbuddinginnerstruggleandnudgeshimaside.“Letmetakeitfromhere.”
SeanreplieswithanodasClintscreamsforhimwhileTylerdragshimtothepassengersideoftheHondabeforeshovinghimintothepassengerseat.Retrievingthephonefromtheglovebox,Tylerhandsittome,andIpocketit.AtClint’sdriver’sdoor,TylerglancesbetweenthetwoofusasClint’sscreamsechotous,mutedbythesnapofthecardoorbeforeTylerpullsaway.
Sean’sZipposounds,andIturntoseehimscrubbinghisfacebeforecursingandhanginghishead.Istepuptohim,knowinghisconsciencewilleatawayathiminthedaystocome.
“Thisiswar,brother,”Iremindhim.“Firstfuckingbattleofmany.”
“Iknow,man.Igetit,andwe’recountingontheloyaltyoftheonevariablewecan’tcontrol…people.”Hisstatementlingers,resonatingwithsomuchfuckingtruthashelooksovertome,thetollofwhatjusttranspiredclearinhisposture.
“Iwassosureabouthim,andnow…”helooksbacktowardClint’sretreatingcar.Sean’salwaysbelievedintuitionishisgreatestgift,andIdon’tcorrecthim,because,inthatrespect,he’simpeccableatdecipheringthegoodeggsfrombad.Hecanreadpeopleeasily,anticipatetheirneedsandmanipulatethemforourbenefitifnecessary.Thetruthis,he’sanempathtohiscore.Hiskryptoniteisthathefeelseverypartofwhatjusthappened…whileIcanremainobjectiveanddetached.Thissituationwon’taffectmeasecondafterIdriveaway,butSeanwon’tforgetitanytimesoon.He’lllosesleepoverClint’sfateandcarrytheweightwithhim.
“Doyoubelievehim?”Iaskasheexhalesalongstreamofsmoke.
“Itdoesn’tmatterifIdo,doesit?”
ForSean’ssake,IfindmyselfhopingwhatClintgaveusisenoughaswestandsidebyside,watchinghistaillightsfadeuntiltheydisappear.“I’mheadingout,”Seanutterslow,totinganoverstuffedlaundrybagdownthestairsasIrefillmycoffeecup.HesearchesmyexpressionforaverdictonClint,andIshakemyheadinresponsethatIdon’thaveoneyet.
Myguessisthathisexcursionforcleanclothesishisexcusetoescapeclubbusinessfortheday.He’sbeensulkingsincewewatchedClint’staillightsdisappearafewnightsago.Hehitthebottlehardwhentheheadlinepoppedupofalocalmissingmanwhosecarwasfoundinabusyshoppingcenter.IdecidetomakeitaprioritytolethimknowonewayoranotherassoonasI’vedonemyduediligence.AsoftenasSeanandIhavecollectivelypulledthetriggeronthedeserving,it’scompletelydifferentwhenafellowbird’sfateisatstake.
“Wantsomehelp?”
Atthefrontdoor,hetossesahesitantlookmyway,andIgatherthathe’salreadygothelplinedup.Dippingmychin,Igivehimtheoutheneeds.IfhewantstoburyhisgriefanddickinCecelia,it’shisprerogative.Whenheopenshismouthtospeaksomeuselessexcuse,Iwavehimoff.“I’vegotshittodo.”
Hepausesjustafterheopensthefrontdoor,searchingforwordsthatmightmeansomethingtome.Justafterherealizestheywon’t,thedoorsnapsshutbehindhim.
Takingthestairstwoatatimeafteralateshiftatthegarage,intentonreturningtomypassionproject,Istopmid-stepwhenaraspymoanreachesme.Throughtherailsatthetop,IfindthesourcepinnedtothesmallpatchofwallattheendofthehallbetweenSeanandTyler’sbedroomdoors.Headthrownback,eyesclosed,oneofherlegsisdrapedoverSean’sbareshoulderashegreedilyeatsherpussy.
Mybloodsimmersatthesightofit.JustasIpredicted,SeanmedicatedhisfeelingswithCecelia.Inhisdecisiontodrowninher,healsoopenedhisbedandourfuckinghome,whichchangesthings.FurystartstoboiljustbeneathmyskinasIspeculateabouthismotivation.Sean’sNovawasn’tinthedrivewhenIrolledup,andneitherwashers,sohowthefuckdidtheygethere?
MyguessisTyler,whoprobablydroppedthemoffandhadsenseenoughtoleavejustafter.
Seanhadtohaveheardmepullup,butbythewayhe’seagerlyfeeding,hemightnothave.It’sCecelia’scriesthatbreakupmycirclingtheorieswhenshegripsSean’shairandstartstobuckagainsthismouth.Eyesstillfirmlyshut,Seanpullsback,tiltinghisheadupatherwhilespearingherwithhisfingers,givingmeaglimpseofherexposedflesh.
Mycockjerksatthesightofit,oftheecstasyetchedonherface.Bloodpoundsinmyearsastherestgathersbelow.NomatterhowmuchIwantto,Ican’tfuckinglookaway—soIdon’t.Knowingthatifhereyesopen,she’llcatchme,IremainwhereIstandasshegetslostinSean’scoaxing.
“Wanttocome,Pup?”Seanutters,hisvoicecoatedinlust.
“Please,”shewhimpersashecoatshisfingerswithherarousalbeforemassagingherasshebucksintohishand.
Seandivesbackin,andCeceliaerupts,faceflushingasshepantsouthisname,herthighshakingaroundhisheadasshedigsherbareheelintohisback.Thesightandsoundofhercomingunleashesadesperatefuckingneedinsideme.Hairsrisingonthebackofmyneck,myangrydickpulsesinmyjeans,demandingattention,andIrefuseit.
Unshacklingmyself,IhitthebottomofthestairsjustasSean’sdoorcloses.ParalyzedwhereIstand,Cecelia’smuffledmoansresumefrombehindit.Sensesacute,mycockthreatensarevoltasIcatchthesoundoftherunningrefrigeratoralongwiththetickofatinyclockonanearbyshelf.
Refusingtoentertaintheobnoxiousthrobinmyjeans,Istalktowardtheslidingdoorandintothesideyard.Iglancearoundasifsomethingnearbymightbringmesomerelief.
Takingthebenchseat,Iliftthebarandstartadeadpress.Mentallywarring,Icontinuetopressinanefforttoerasetheimagesofherlust-coveredfeatures—thesightofherlandingstripanddrippingpussy,andthefuckingsoundsthatcameoutofherassheorgasmed.
Evenifhewantedmetoseeit—tofacemyattractionforher—hecouldn’thavemanipulatedthetimingthatmuch.
Thenagain,we’remastersatdeception.
Seandoesn’tdoanythingwithoutthinkingitthrough.Maybehe’sfightinghereffectonhim,desperatetobelievethelieshe’stelling—andlosing.Perhapsthisonce,whenitcomestoher,hedoesn’thavethefuckinganswer.
Noneofusdo.
Instinctguidesmyeverymoveanddecisionatthispointinmylife.Alwayshas.ItwasnotuntilIreachedadulthoodthatIcouldfullyrecognizeitforwhatitis.AsfaithfullyasIfollow,Isometimeswishitwasmoresubtle.It’sanythingbut—alwaysthrummingthroughmewithunexplainableforcewhile,attimesscreamingatmetoobey.Refusingtogivemeanyfuckingpeace.
Likenow,asI’mrousedfromamuch-neededdeadsleepwiththefamiliarinklingthatI’mbeingwatched,andwithoutopeningmyeyes,bywho.
Thatknowledgejoltsmealert,andmyeyespopopentoseeherstandingjustoutsidetheguestbathroom.Evenfeetaway,it’seasytomakeoutthelustinherexpression.Seeingshe’sjustasturnedonasshewashoursago,Iremainmotionless,convenientlybutunintentionallyspreadoutforherviewingpleasure.
Takinghertime,shesoaksineverybaredinchofmebeforesettlinghergazeonmycock.Acockthat’salreadybetrayingmeasitstirsatthesightofherlookingfreshlyfucked,lipsswollen,wearingnothingbutSean’sT-shirt
Herownalarmbellskickoffasshesensesmystarejustbeforeherdesire-filledblueeyesflytomineandwiden.Thenowfamiliarelectricitypassesbetweenus,myansweringstarefullofdareasIflickmygazetomycock.Acockthatnowstandsfullfuckingmast.Iliftmychinafractionjustasshesputtersoutanapologybeforescurryingawaylike…afuckingmouse.
AsSean’sdoorquietlyclosesduetoCecelia’shastyretreat,Ican’thelpbutfeelforthesonofabitchforhislatestboldmove.Intentionalornot,he’sbeenbaitingmewithhersinceshegothere.It’spasttimeforhiswake-upcallandhers.
Glovesoff,sweetheart.“Cha-ching.”
ThepingjarsmefromtheimageofCeceliarunningherhandsalongmydickwhenwefacedoffinthekitchenyesterday.I’ddonemyworst,andevenindoingit,thehumofattractionwasthere,onlystrengtheningwithourlatestsparringmatch.Thisoneheavilyincitedbyme.She’dgivenjustasgoodasshegot,butSean’slatesttestbackfiredintheend.He’dpurposelyleftherinmypath,again,andfailedtomakehispoint,again.She’snowherenearreadyorhasthestrengthtoendurethetrialsofbeinginourworld.Themorehetries,themorehiseffortshaveprovenfutile.
TheDeadSergeantsringoutthroughmyearbudsasIeyethenewbalanceinourpiggybank.ScanningtheNasdaqfeedwhentheexchangeopensfortheday,thelocalnewssimultaneouslypopsup,streamingonanotherscreen.SatisfactionthrumsthroughmewhenIsearchforanddiscoverSpencer’scompanystockisplummetingaccordingtoplan.Oncewe’vegatheredenoughevidencetoburyhimforthegunswefoundatthewarehouse,it’sRIPforSpencerandontothenexttarget.JustasIthinkit,myphonerattleswithanincomingtextfromTyler.
T:Meetyouatthegarage.
AnnoyanceflareswhenIcatchanotherwhiffofthefuckingcarrotcakeCeceliaplasteredtomyheadyesterday,andIdecideanothershowerisinorder.Movingtopushawayfrommydesk,IpausewhenIcatchaheadlineflashacrossthescreen.
LOCALWOMEN’SSHELTERRECEIVESASTAGGERINGDONATION.
Killingthestreamingmusic,Iturnupthevolumejustastheanchorcuesthereporteronsite.
“I’mstandingoutside“ChanceTwoWoman’sShelter”withdirectorLorettaDawson,wherejustdaysago,ananonymousdonorhadatruckdelivered.Thetruckwasfilledtothebrimwithsuppliesandnon-perishablesthatwillstocktheirpantrywellthroughthenewyear.Anunexpectedbutmuch-neededdonation.Canyoutellusalittlemoreaboutthat,Loretta?”
Sean’soldSundayschoolteacherstepsup,amixofnervesandexcitementinherexpression.“Whenthetruckpulledup,wewerejustblownaway.We’vereceivedsomegenerousdonationsinthepast,butnothingofthismagnitude.Wewereclosetoshuttingourdoorsevenafterourannualfund-raiserlastmonth.We’resothankfultowhoeverfounditinsidethemselvestogiftustheabilitytokeepthesheltergoingandpotentiallychangedozensofwomen’slives.”
Satisfied,Ilowerthevolumebeforecrackingmyneckandpushingaway.
Musclesscreamingduetopullinganotherall-nighter,Idreadthelonghoursahead.Headingtowardthebathroom,mypersonalcellbuzzesinmyhand.Pissedit’snotmybrother—who’sleftmylasttwotextsaskingforacallunanswered—dreadblanketsmewhenBLUERIDGEMEDICALfillsmyscreen.
Inthebathroom,Istudythedarkhalf-moonsundermyeyesinthemirrorasIanswer.“Hello?”
“DominicKing?”
“Thisishe.”
“I’msorrytocallsoearly.It’sjustthatyour…”Iheartheflipofapage,“AuntDelphine.Well…she’searlyforherchemoappointmentandinnostatetodriveherselfhome.”
Cuppingthebackofmyhead,Iinhaleadeepbreathforpatience.“Howearly?”
Withherreply,Iscrubmyjaw.“Canyoukeepherthere?Icanbethereinanhour.”
Hearingthewomanpanicatwhat’ssuretobethelongestfuckinghourofherlife,Ithankherandhangupbeforestartingmyshower.Oncestripped,Ipalmthetiles,lettingthewaterraindownmybackasIclosemyeyes.“JesusChrist.”
It’stheonlyprayerIcanmuster.
Somewhatrevivedafterabrisk,coldrinse,IpullonmyKing’steebeforekickingintomyboots.TakingthestairswithwhatlittleenergyIhave,I’mhalfwaydownwhenSeanglancesupfromwherehestandsbehindthekitchenisland—thenewsstillrunningonthelivingroomTV.“Seeit?”
Inodashegrabsamugfromthecabinet,scouringmeashepoursmeacupbeforepushingitovertheislandinoffering.
“Anotherall-nighter?”
Igrunt,takingaheartysipbeforethebitchingcommences.
“Needyouwhole,man.Can’tkeepburningthecandleatbothends.”
“Idon’tseeanyoneelsearoundherecapableofhandlingmyworkload,myway,andsomeonehastoorganizethemessthatwasleftforme.”
“Accordingtoyourimpossiblestandards,”hesnarks.“DidwereallyfuckupsobadlyholdingthefortdownwhileyouwereinBoston?”
“Youfeelingneedy?”Iaskbetweensips.“Wantacompliment?”
“IfI’minneedofanythingoranyonerightnow,it’snotyou.Bytheway,thanksforfuckingthatupforme.Shesnuckoutlastnightwithoutawordandwon’ttextmebackthismorning.”
Iliftmycupinsalute.“Anytime.”
“So,itwasintentional.”
“Asintentionalasyouleavingherhereyesterdaywithoutplayingguarddog.”Ishrug.“Maybeyoudidn’tdrillyourpointintohergoodenoughwithyourlittlemakeupfuck.”
“Ibelieveyouheardevidencetothecontrary.”
“You’reconfusingmewithsomeonewhogivesadamn.I’vegotmoreimportantshittodealwithrightnowthanyourfucklife.”
“Saywhatyouwill,man,butevenwithTyleronourcollectiveasses,you’retheonecurrentlysabotagingprogress.”
“Sheneedstoknowherplace.”
“Iunderstandwhythisishardonyou,butyoucan’tkeepholdingherignoranceagainstherwhenshedoesn’tknowwhatyou’rereallyabout.Ifyou’dgiveherhalfagoddamnchance,Ithinkshe’llsurpriseyou.”Hepalmsthecounter.“Ifyou’rehonestwithyourself,shealreadyhas.”
“Youunderstand?”Iwalkaroundandstareoutofthekitchenwindow,scanningthecloud-coveredmountainridgebeyondourbackyard.“Yeah,Idon’tthinkyoudo.”
“Thenweneedtotalkaboutthis.”
“Whatweneedtodoisgettothefuckinggarage.Tyler’swaiting.”
SeansetshiscupinthesinknexttomeasIdumpmineinatravelmug,grabbingthepotandfillingittothebrimbeforecappingit.Seanturnstome,andevenaspissedasheis,hisexpressionleakswithconcern.
“Wantmetodriveyou?”
“I’mgood.”
Hebiteshislipringbrieflybeforepinningme.“Arewegood?”
HetriestogetareadonmeasIduckmyheadandgrabmykeys—overtheCeceliaconversationaltogether.“Whatdoyouwanttohear?”
“Thefuckingtruth.I’mnotgoingtolietoyou.There’spotentialthere,notjustforme,butforus,collectivelylongterm.”
Ipausethetravelmugatmylips.“Nowyou’rethinkinglongterm?”
“Isn’tthatthepointofthis?Iseeitinher,andIthinkyou’repissedyoucanseeittoo.”
“Iseeamouse.”
“Whatever,haveityourway.Ifyouwantedmetobackoff,you’vemadeyourpointcrystalfuckingclear.Justsoyouknow,youcouldhavesavedusallthedramaticsandjusttoldmeoutright.”
“Myfistdidn’tclueyouin?”
Herunsahandthroughhisscatteredhair,perplexed.“Ithoughtwefuckingsettledthis.”
“Wedid.Notmyproblemshecouldn’thackit.Itwasyourlittleexperimentthatwentawry.That’sonyou.”
“Right.Fuckit.”Seanpullshiskeysoutandturnstoleave,andIglancebackoutofthewindowtotheworldthatawaits.AworldIwantnofuckingpartofifIcan’tplaytheroleIwanttowithinit.That’swhereSeancomesin.He’sbeenmyliaisontotheoutsidewellbeforemyperpetualstateofunrest.Whiletherestofmybrothersremainfocusedontheiragendas,Sean’salwayskeptmybackfirstandforemost.EvenifhiscurrentmotiveswithCeceliaarefuckingselfishandaskingalot,hewon’tbetraymewhenitmattersmost.Ofthatmuch,I’mcertain.“We’regood.”
Hepausesandstudiesmeforsincerity.“Youmeanthat?”
Ido.Evenifhe’sdecidedtomakeCeceliaahobby,Seandoesn’tdolong-term.Whateverhehasbrewingwithherwillfizzleoutonewayortheother.So,whatdoIgiveafuckifhe’sgettingsomethingpersonallyoutofit?It’spartofwhoheisandwhatheneeds.SomethingI’veneveridentifiedwithbutalwaysunderstoodabouthim.Ifhe’sgoingtobedistractedbyanywoman,whobetterthantheonethatwillleadusclosertodestroyingRoman?
“Yeah,Romeo,”Iquip.“Butjustsoyouknow,she’sjustanotherinalonglineofRosalines.”
“Thinkwhatyouwill,butI’mstraightuptellingyouotherwise…andI’mnotsureyouareorcaneverbegoodwithit.AsmuchasIlikeher,andItrulyfuckingdo,”headmits,runninghishandsthroughhishair.“Itcanendnow.Thisimpasseshe’sdecidedoncanbeanout,soI’mleavingtheballinyourcourttodecide.”
Helingerstomakesurehisfollowingwordsareheard,alongwithhiswarning.“Butifyoudodecidetoletherthrough,I’mbringingherallin.”
Hisdeclarationhasmepausingallmovement.“Andtheconsequences?”
“Onme,”hedeclaresbeforeturningandstalkingoutthefrontdoor.
Stunnedbyhiswillingnesstovouchforher,especiallyafterhermeltdownyesterday,Ifollowandlockup.Aftercrankingourenginestowarmthemup,Iglanceovertoseehimsmilingthroughourloweredwindowswhileclassicrockbeginstofilterthroughhisspeakers.
“Let’swakeyouup.”
Icrankupmyownmusictodrownhisnoiseout,andheshakeshisheadinannoyance.Inthenextsecond,he’sspinningtirestoleadusoutoftheneighborhood,andIputmyCamarointogearandfollow.
Atthestopsign,Ipullupnexttohimsoourhoodsarelinedup.Afterthreecollaborativerevsofourenginesforacountdown,webothrocketintomotion,claimingbothlanesofthemainroad.SeangrabstheadvantagewhenI’mforcedbehindhimbyanoncomingcar.IcanpracticallyhearhissarcasticrebuttalwhenIfloormyCamaroandbulletpasthim.Thelongdoubletapofhishornisanunmistakable“fuckyou”asweflydowntheroad.Seanstartstogainonmewhenanotheroncomingcarforcesmetoslowandrollintohislane.Thedriverlaysonhishorn,a“fuckingidiots!”screamedaswezoompast.SeangunsitasIstraddlebothlanes,anticipatinghiseverymove,hishooddangerouslyclosetomybumperasIblockhismaneuveringtostayahead.Iglanceinmyrearview,chuckling.“Imaybeseeingtwoofyou,brother,butyou’rebothbehindme.”
Whenweapproachourlastrightturn,Iallowhimtodartpastme,andIquicklydecidetocutthecornerofadryfield,tiresskiddingbackontothepavementasIreclaimmyleadandgiveiteverythingI’vegot.SeanrepeatedlysoundshishornasIchuckle,alreadytastingmyvictory.
Wetakeonelastdiceyturn,andSeanrecoversfaster,gaininggroundandflippingthebirdoutofhiswindowaswegohoodtohoodonthestraightaway.Openingup,Igofullthrottle,knowinghorsepowerhaseverythingtodowiththelaststretch,andthisiswhereIhaveslightlymoreedge.MyenginewinsasIgainafullcarlengthbeforefishtailingintoKing’sparkinglotandstoppingonadime.SeanpullsintothespacenexttomejustasIexit.Helingersathisdriver’sdoor,addressingmeovertheroofofhisNova.“You’refuckingridiculous.Youknowthat?Therulesaresimple.”Hesliceshishandleftandright.“Staybetweenthemayonnaiseandmustard.”
“Sincewhenareyouasticklerforrules?Oh,yeah…onlywhenI’mdustingyourass.Ifyouspentalittlemoretimeunderyourhoodthanunderskirts,youmightactuallyfuckingbeatmeoneday.”
Seanshutshiscardoorandjoinsmeatmine.“Dayisn’toveryet,asshole.”HeclapsmeonthebackasweheadtowardthelobbydoorforTyler’supdate.Tyler’smadeithismissionsinceourwarehouseheisttogettothebottomofthewhobyutilizinghismilitarycontacts.
Ourmajorsetbackwiththisisthatifweattempttodishoutjusticeonsomethingofthiscaliber,itcouldbringattentiontooursecret.JustasI’msiftingthroughtheoddswe’reupagainst,Tylerpullsintotheparkinglot.WebothheadtowardhistruckforanupdatewhenIhearmynamecalled.SeanandIbothturntoseeGingergettingoutofherChevysedan.We’dmissedheridlingtherewhenwepulledin.Doingmybestnottoshowhowherunexpectedpresenceisfuckingupmymorning,Seanleansovertomeinawhisperaswestartwalkingherway.
“YoufuckingwithGingeragain?”
OurcollectivebootscrunchgravelasItakeinGinger’sdress,appreciatingherbeautyasIalwayshave.“WehookedupwhenIfirstgothome.Itwasaone-time,welcomehomefuck.”
“Well,welcomehome,you’refucked,”hechuckles,addingabackclapasIglareathiminwarning.Gingerstepsuptous,darkredhairflyinginthebreeze,browneyesdartingbetweenusasSeantakesthelead—hisshit-eatinggrinfirmlyinplace.Normallyhewouldn’ttakesomuchjoyoutofmydiscomfort,butit’sclearhe’sinittodayforpayback—forCecelia.ThatideagnawsatmeasSeanspeaksup,addressingher.
“HeyGinger,lookin’beautifulthismorning.”
Shegiveshimasoft“Thankyou,”beforecautiouslyfocusingbackonme,herexpressionlettingmeknowIhaven’tmanagedtomaskshit.I’vemadeherfeelunwanted.Needingtosaysomethingtoeaseherdiscomfort,Ifuckingfailtoproducethewordsbeforeshespeaksup.“CanItalktoyouforasecond?”
IliftmychintoSean,whotakeshiscueandpainstakinglywalksbackward,eyesdartingbetweenus.Ignoringmyscowl,headdressesGinger.
“Justgotanewplace,don’tknowifDomtoldyou,butyou’rewelcomeanytime.”
“Thanks,Sean.”SeanjoinsTylerasheglancesourway,liftinghischintoletmeknowthenewshehasistimesensitivebeforehegreetsGingerwithafriendlywave.InodtolethimknowI’mcoming.
“Iwon’ttakemuchofyourtime,”Gingerassures,pullingmyattentionherway.
“It’sgood…yougood?”I’msofuckingbadatthis.I’veneverbeenabletodosmalltalk,notevenwhenI’vewantedto.Atonepoint,yearsago,specificallywithGinger,Iwantedto.Idon’tbothertoattemptitanymore.WhereIcontinuallyfail,Seanwould’vealreadytalkedapriorhookupintoamoreintimatesettingandgottenballsdeep,makingherforgetthereasonsheshowedup.AtalenthepossessesthatI’mattimesenviousof—ifonlyforthisfuckingreason.
It’salsowhyI’vesharedwithSeaninthepastwhenanopportunitypresenteditself.HetakespleasureinthewholefuckingcharadewhileIrefuseto.Whenit’srunitscourse,he’salwaysbeentheonetoletthemdowngentlybeforeIfuckitallupwiththeblunttruthormyinabilitytousewordswhenitmattersmost.
ThatiswhyTyleruseditagainstmeintheyardthatday.It’sfuckinghumiliating,andthatpointisdrivenhomeasGingerpatientlywaitsonme.She’salwaysbeenarareexception,andneverheldmyweaknessagainstme,notoncesincewewerejustkids.
Lookingoverathernow,Icantellthere’smorebehindwhyshe’sherebeforeshevoicesit.“I’mfine,Dom.Thisisn’taboutus,”sheassuresbeforebitingherlowerlip.
It’sthenInoticeshe’ssweating,andit’stooearlyinthedayforit.Toeasehermind,Igriphershakyhandandseehertakeherfirstfullbreathsincesheapproachedme.
“What’swrong?”
“Dom,Ihateasking,butIneedyourhelp.”
Itightenmyfingersaroundherhand,knowingit’snotmeshe’sscaredof.Angerstartstosimmerforwhatevermotherfuckerputthistypeofvisiblefearintoher.“Askmeanyway.”
ClosingGinger’sdriver’ssidedoor,Iaddanothertasktomynever-endingfuckingto-dolistasshesmilesatmethroughtheglassbeforestartinghercar.Asshepullsaway,myphonerumblesinmypocket,andIcurse,knowingit’sthehospital,withoutbotheringtolookatthescreen.OnlythirtyminutesorsointothehourIaskedfor,Delphine’salreadyterrorizedthehospitalstafftothepointthatthey’recalling.Glancingthroughthelobbyglass,TylerspotsmysummonsasIstartmakingmywaytowardmycar.Hestepsout,makinghiswaytowardhistruck.“Raincheck,it’simportant.I’llgetbackwithyouinafew.Don’tstraytoofar.”
“Whereyouoffto,man?”
“AdrunkanddisorderlyFrenchmenacewalksintoahospitaldaysearlyforherchemoappointment…I’llgetbacktoyouwiththefuckingpunchline.”
“Shit.Needhelp?”
“I’mhandlingit.”
“Letmeknowifthatchanges.”WhenIdon’treply,hecursesashesecureshisburnerphoneinhisgloveboxbeforecirclinghistruckandfiringupbehindthewheel.
He’sdebatingfollowingme.I’dbetmyfuckinghotwheelsonit.DelphineishisotherAchillesheel,andhe’shorribleathidingit,atleastfromme
TylerfiresuphistruckasSeanfliesoutofthelobby.“Hey,assholes,wherethefuckareyougoing?Incaseyouforgot,Idon’tworkhereanymore!”
“Youdotoday,”Isaybeforetakingmywheel,knowingRussellwillpullupwithinhalfanhour.Firingupmycar,Isipmycoffeeformuch-neededfuelbeforespeedingoff,myshouldersalreadytight.
It’sgoingtobeoneofthosefuckingdays.Staringintothedarklobbyofthegaragefrommyseat,Irunmyknucklesdownmywheel,tighteningmyholdontheburnerphone.“I’maskingyoutogivemeaninch,afuckinginch.Ican’tjustsitbackwhile—”
“Youcanandyouwill,”Tobiassnaps.“Oneatatime,Dom,andweneedtoconcentrateonwho’sfirst.”
“Youdon’tknowwhatyou’reaskingme.Everydayyoudenymetoactisadaywasted.”Anotherlifestolen,innocencelost,andamonster’svictory.ButIcan’tletontoomuchabouthowit’saffectingme.He’srestedtheclub’sfateinmyhands,andifhecatcheswindofhowmuchmysideprojectisfuckingwiththejob,hemayverywellsnatchitoutofmygrasp.Ineedsomesemblanceofcontrol.IfTobiastakestheday-to-dayawayfromme,itwillbeafateworsethantheoneI’mliving.Hissilenceontheotherendofthelinetellsmehe’scontemplatingthatdecision.
“Stop.Don’teventhinkaboutit,”Iwarn.
“IfyouknowwhatI’mthinking,thenwhyarewehavingthisconversation?”
Hisaccentisgettingthicker,andforsomereason,itirritatesme.Maybeit’sbecauseIdon’twanthimclaiminghometobeonthatsideoftheocean.Thoughatthispoint,he’slivedmoreofhislifeinFrancethanhehashere
“Wecan’triskit,Dom.”
“Whatthey’redoing…whatthey’refuckinggettingawaywith—”
“Hasbeenhappeningforendlessyearsandisn’tstoppinganytimesoon.”
“Igetyourlogic,”Iadmitbegrudgingly.
“Doyou?”Histoneisfullofcondescension.
Ifhe’sspeakingtoTylerasoftenasheistome—andTylergiveshimmorereasontoworry—Imighthavealreadylostmyplace.
“Don’tfuckingdoit,”Isnap.“I’lldoyourbidding.Ihaven’tmovedinonshit.That’swhywe’refuckingarguing.”
“Proveitistherightdecision.Yourtimewillcome,brother.”
“AndhowmanytimeshaveIheardthat?”Isnap,runningmyknucklesdownmywheelinawaythatburns.Iheartheclinkoficetoglassandknowthenthathe’salsonotputtingarealvoicetowhat’sgothimsoworkedup.
“Anyprogressonfindinghim?”Iaskinanattempttogetsomethingfromhim.Ourconversationsarerareasis,andIknowit’ssohecanstayfocused.Forwhateverreason,he’schosenourclub’stippingpointtosearchforhisbirthfather,andI’mtryingnottobegrudgehimforit.
“No,”hereplies.“Awhisperofsomething,thensilenceforfuckingdays,sometimesweeks.”
“Elusive,huh?Aninheritedtrait,nodoubt.”
“I’mtrying,Dom.”
“Tryharder.”
“You’vebeennohelptomerecently,”hesnaps.
“Alittlebusyhere,”Isaythroughclenchedteeth.
“Tellme,”heurges,notastheshotcallerbutasmybrother.Hisemotionalwhiplashtellsmehe’sjustasonedgeasIam.
“Myjobhasbeenalittlehecticlately,butourpensionislookingprettyfuckingspectacular.”
“Goodtohear,”hemuses.“Howarethingsathome?”
Delphine.
“Thedefinitionofinsanity.”Iscrubmyfacethinkingaboutmyauntrottingawayinthathouse—howIwatchedherpouradrinkfromtheporchjustafterparkingherinherreclinerearliertoday.She’sshackledherselftothathouseforaslongasIcanremembernow.It’sasifshe’sservingaself-imposedprisonsentence.
“Don’tlethermissatreatment,”heorders.
“I’vegotit,”Isnap.
Silence.Theclinkofice.
“Trynottoresentmetoomuch,brother,”hefinallysays,recognizableguiltcoatinghistone.He’seitheronhisthirdorfourthdrinkandgettingantsyduetothetimeaway—mostlyfromme.Thepaternalconcernisstartingtokickin.Whathedoesn’trealizeisthatI’mjustasfuckingworriedabouthissituation.Onthat,I’mdoneobeyingordersandformulatingaplaninstead.
“Youtellmeabouthome,”Iprod.
“I’mtalkingtohome.”
“Youdoknowthedefinitionofinsanity,don’tyou?”
Hecircleshisglass,andIrealizehe’sdraineditalready.Thatknowledgegratesonme.
“It’srepeatingthesameactionsoverandoveragainandexpectingdifferentresults.That’swherewaitinghasgottenus.”
Hereleasesmynamelikeit’sanuisanceasatextcomesthroughmypersonalcell.
Ginger:He’shere.
“Don’tletmyshitkeepyoufromsippingyourguiltaway,brother,seeinghowit’sworkedoutsofuckingwellfortherestofthefamily.Ihaveshittodo.”
Smashingthephoneintomydash,Itossitsremainsonmypassengerfloorboard.RevelinginthetimingofGinger’stext,Iallowtheresidualangertosnakeitswayintomyvision.Downshifting,Iflyinthedirectionofherapartment.Onceparked,IgrabwhatIneedfrommyglovebox.AsIdo,recent,concernedlooksofeverysingleoneofmyinkedbrothersflitthroughmymind…alongwithTobias’swarning.Pressingsendonalast-minutetexttoSean,IslammydoorclosedandmakeabeelineforGinger’sapartmentdoor.
GingeropensthedoorjustasIapproach,andIseethesourceofherfearstandingnexttoalitteredcoffeetable.Nearby,ababynoolderthanayearbouncesinachair.Rageengulfsme,andIzoneinonthemotherfuckerwhobarelyhastimetodrophisglasspipebeforeI’monhim.Clampingahandonhisneck,Idraghimtowardtheopenfrontdoor.
“Whatthefuck?!”Heshrieks,attemptingtoturnhisheadasIkeephimbentbutwalking.
“Dom!”Ginger’ssister,Marie,screamsmynameasifshehassomeabilitytoreasonwithme.
“Packhisshit,”IbarkatMarieasGingerholdsthedooropensoIcantakethetrashout.
Stoppingjustoutsideofit,MariestartstoberateGinger,andthegreasypieceofshitinmygripgetsittogetherenoughtostartquestioningme.“Whatthefuck,man?!Whothefuckareyou?”
Grippinghishair,Ipullhisheadupenoughtoscantheparkinglot.
“Whichoneisyours?”
“TheS10,fuck,pleaseeaseup,JesusChrist!”
“He’snotansweringtoday,”Iinformhimbeforepinninghimtohisrust-eatenChevy.“Ialreadycalled.”
“Shedidn’ttellmeshehadaman,dude.Iswear.”Inside,IhearthebabystarttoscreamalongwithMarie,andmyhacklesrise.
Seanspeedsintotheparkinglot,andinseconds,he’sbymyside,hisvoicebarelyaudibletothepulsethrumminginmyearsasIstareatthefuckingjunkiewhowasabouttohitapipewithababymerefeetaway.
“Dom,”MariescreechesassheboundsintotheparkinglotwithGingeronherheels.“Dom,pleasedon’thurthim!”
Islamhimagainsthistruck,leeringathimasSean’swordsfinallystartregistering.
“Easy,man.Thisisn’tthetimeorplace.”
“You’veoverstayedyourwelcome,”Iinformgreasy.“Thisisn’tyourplace.Gingerwantsyougone.Sogo.”
MarieturnsonGinger.“Itoldyouitwasjustacouplemoredays!”
Gingerstandsherground.“Yousaidthattwomonthsago!IfoundapipeinToby’scarseatthismorning!”
Greasy,whohasn’ttakenhiseyesoffme,startstosputterasIslamhimintothesideofthetruckagain.“You’resmokingthatpoisonaroundababy.Areyounotawarethatshitcanseepintohisclothes,hisskin?”
“Please,Dom,don’thurthim!”Marieshrieks.
Thecrackhead’ssmoked,falsebraverydecidestospeakuponhisbehalfashequestionsMarie.“Whothefuckisthisguy?”
Seansuppliestheanswerforher.“Youdon’twantananswertothat.It’sbestifyouleave,man,andtakehimathisword.He’snotafanofrepetition.”
Keepingthefuckerpinnedtothetruck,Ipathimdownbeforeyankinghiskeysfromhisjeansandpressingthemintohischest.
Mariemusthavetakenahitofthesamebraveryasherfirstthreatcomesout.“Lethimgo,orI’mcalling—”
Iflitmygazetoher.“Yousureyouwanttofinishthatsentence,Marie?”
ShebacktracksasSeanturnstowardher,hisexpressionjustasunforgivingasshecowers.“YouknowIwouldn’t.Just,please…lethimgo.”
Focusingbackonthesweat-slickedjunkie,Iseehimforexactlywhatheis—acompleteandutterwasteofalife.“Yourdickseemstobecloudingjudgmentaroundhere.”Slamminghimagainstthetruckagain,hefades,goinglimpinmyhold.
Myvoiceofreasonspeaksupbesideme.“Easeup,Dom.What’syourname,man?”
“Jeffrey.”
“Jeffreywasjustleaving,weren’tyou,Jeffrey?”Seangiveshimaneasyout,ascripttorepeat,whichhedoesnotfollow.
“Seemshe’shavingahardtimegraspingtheconcept,sowe’llmakeiteasy.”IturntoMarie.“I’monlygoingtosaythisonemoretime.Packhisshit.He’stakingitwithhim.We’llwait,won’twe,Jeffrey?”
Jeffrey,whoisfullofbaddecisions,hasthegumptiontolookbored.“Yeah…sure.”
IturntoGinger.“Yousaidtwomonths?”
“Aroundthat,yeah,”shereplieswithashakyvoice,hereyesdartingnervously.
“Hashegivenyouafuckingdimeforanything—rent,utilities?”
“Idon’tcareaboutthat,”shewavesherhand.
Iturnonher.“Thenmaybeyoudeserveanunwantedhouseguestifyou’rewillingtobesohospitable.”
Shequicklyspeaksup.“Ijustwanthimawayfrommynephew.”
“Iwasn’thurtinghim,”Jefferyoffersinashitexcuse.
“Jeffrey,”Seanshakeshishead,“don’ttalk.”
“Nah,let’schat.Howmuchcashdoyouhaveonyou,Jeffrey?”
JeffreyfearfullyglancesatSeanformorehelpandfindsnone.
“Idunno.”
“Hmm,Sean,howmuchdoyouhaveonyou?”
Seananswersinstantly.“Aroundthreehundredandchange.”
IturntoGinger.“Ginger?Whataboutyou?Howmuchisinyourwallet?”
“Ijustfilledup,soaroundfortydollars.Why?”
“Becauseonlyaloserwithoutacareinthefuckingworldisunawareofhowmuchmoneytheyhaveintheirpocket,andthat’sbecausethey’recontentwithsomeoneelsedoingalltheheavylifting.”
ReachingintoJeffrey’sbackpocket,IpullouthispatheticVelcrowalletandglanceoveratMarie.“Iseeyourtasteshavechangeddrasticallysincehighschool,andyou’reonlygettingclassierwithage.”GingersnortsasMarieglaresatme.“Itoldyoutogopackhisshit.”
“Dom—”
“Gosootheyourscreamingbabyandpackhisshit!”Seansnapsather,andhereyeswideninawaythatsheknowsarguingisfutile.SheturnsonherheelsasIfixmystarebacktothecesspoolshe’schosentoplayfatherfigure.IreleasehimenoughtokeephimpinnedwithmyelbowwhileIsortthroughhiswallet.IpullouthislicenseandhandittoSean,whostudiesit.Ipluckoutabagofpowderinsidethebillfoldandtossitathisfeetbeforeholdingthewalletopenforhim.
“I’mguessingthisisthefullsumofyournetworthrighthere.Thisisallyouhave?”
“Yeah.”
“TakethemoneyoutandgiveittoGinger.”
“It’sallIgot.”
“Technically,it’snot,”Icorrect.“What’sthestreetvalueofthepowder?”
“Eightydollars,”hereplies,searchingallsetsofeyesonhimforhelpthat’snotcoming.
“Eyesonme.”Heliftsblownpupilstomine.“GivethemoneytoGinger.”
Hehastilysnatchesthemoneyfromthewalletandthrustsittowardher.IcanpracticallyhearthecrackinhisbackasIreprimandhimforbadmanners,andthebillsfloattothegroundbeforeGingerhasachancetoreachthem.JeffreywhimperswhenIpressmyforearmagainsthisneck.“Now,Jeffrey,simplemathematicswilltellyouyou’releavingwithtwiceasmuchasyoujustgaveher.Butmyguessisthatyou’regoingtosmokeyourentirenetworthbeforeyoureachthehighway.”
Marieboundsoutoftheapartmentwithatrashbag,hersononherhip.Histinychestbounceswithhishiccupsduetothestrengthofhiscries.MyresolveonlystrengthensasIripmyeyesawayfromhimwhileItrytoridhimofthemonsterthatsleepstooclosetohiscrib.
“Isthateverything,Marie?Wedon’twanttogivehimanexcuseforanotherhousecall.”
Seanreachesforthebagassheanswersme.“It’severything.”
IkeepmyeyestrainedonthecrackheadasSeandropshisshitinthebackofhistruck.“You’repacked,butifanythingismissing,youcanlivewithoutit.”
Jeffreydipshischininreply.
“Needtohearyousayit,”SeaninstructsasIpressin,andhewinces,agonyetchedonhisfeatures.
“Right.R-Right,ifanythingismissing,Icanlivewithoutit.”
Releasinghim,IstepbackasJeffreyquicklygrabshisonlypriority—hisbagofdope—andgripsthehandleofhistruck.Eyeingmeformynextmove,Istepbackandallowhimthespacetogetin.It’swhenhe’ssafelyinsideandfiresuphistruckthatItaphiswindowwithmyGlock.Jeffrey’seyesbulgeatthesightofitbeforehehesitantlycrackshiswindowafraction.
“Don’tcall.Don’twrite.Youwon’tbemissed.”Jeffreynods,andIstepawayashefloorsthegas,speedingoutoftheparkingspaceandbitingthecurbhardwithhisexit.
MarieturnstoGingerwithaglare,adjustingTobyonherhip.“Ifuckinghateyou.”
“You’renext,”ItellMarie.“Andifyousomuchasutteranotherdisrespectfulwordtothepersonputtingaroofoveryouandyourson’shead,itwillbenowratherthanlater.”Sheopenshermouthandthinksbetterofitbeforestompingoffandslammingtheapartmentdoor.Gingerturnstome,thereliefonherfaceenoughevenifshevoicesit.“Thankyou.”
“He’llbeback,”Iwarn,“andshe’lllethiminwhileyou’reworking.Whenthathappens,textme.”
Shenodshalfadozentimes,herexpressionfilledwithgratitude.“Okay.Iwill.Thankyou.Really,I’msorry—”
“Youknowheisn’ttheproblem,right?”Itellher
“Ido,butshe’stheonlyfamilyIhave,evenifshe’sanightmare.”
“Icanrelate.”
Seanchucklesatmyreply—oneoftherarefewwhogetsthejokeasGingereyesmeinawayIusedtowelcomewheninneedofadistraction.Icanreadherinvitationbeforeshevoicesit.“Doyouwanttocomein?”ShelooksbetweenmeandSean.“Uh,bothofyou?I’vegotsomebeer.”
“I’vegotshittodo,”Itellher.Shenods,expectingtheanswerIgave
“Okay,well,I’maroundifyouchangeyourmind.”
“Textmeifhecomesback,”Iturnandstalktowardmycar.
“Night,Sean.Thankyou.”
“Noproblem,Ginger,seeyou,”Seansaysbeforecatchingupwithme.
“Shegrewupastunner,didn’tshe?Yourfirstcrushinjuniorhigh.”
Idon’ttakehisbaitashecontinues,trailingmetomyCamaro.
“Somethingtellsmethisfavorwassentimentalinnature,butyoualwaysdidhaveathingforredheads.”
“Igrewoutofheralongfuckingtimeago,”Itellhimhonestly.WhatIdon’tsayisthatIgrewoutofthistownaftermyfreshmanyearinBoston.Comingbackhasn’tatallfeltlikeahomecoming.YearsoutofTripleFallsdidexactlywhatmybrotherpredicteditwoulddo.Itboostedmyambitiontoadifferentlevel—pivotingmyaspirationsonamuchbiggerscale—whichonlyaddstomyunrest.IfTylerfeelsthesameafterhisyearsaway,hedoesn’tvoiceit.Asidefromhisfewtripsduringmycollegeyears,TripleFallsisallSeanhaseverknown.Butifgiventhechoice,Idon’tthinkhe’deverventuretoofarawayfromthecountyline.Thistownisinhisblood.Idon’tfaulthimforit,butitdistancesusalittleinmindset,whichonlyaddstothegrowinggapbetweenus.“Ididn’tneedyouplayinggoodcop.Ihaditfuckinghandled.”
“Thenwhydidyoucallmehere?”Aquestionheanswersforhimself.“Webothknowifhehadfiftymorepoundsonhim,thiswouldhavebeenashitshow.Youhavegottogetahandleonwhateverisfesteringinsideyou.Andifit’sCecelia—”
“It’snot.I’vemademydecision.We’removingforward.”
“Yousure,man?”
Grippingmydoorhandle,Iglanceoverathim.“Whateverittakes.”“Getthatassholeoutofmypool,”CeceliaordersSeanfromtheloungerthey’vebeenbickeringonsincewegothere.
Ipressmylipstogether.
Sorrymouse,thewaterfeelstoofuckinggood.
Sun-drenchedandweightlessforthefirsttimeinfuckknowshowlong,Icrackopenmybeerandsurveytheyard.TylermakesquickworkofunpackingourcoolerasCeceliagivesSeanhellfornothavingherbackduringourlittleshowdown.
“Tellmeyoudidn’tmissme,”heprompts,crowdingheronthechair.
“Irrelevant.IfIcan’ttrustyoutohavemybackwhenIneedyou,what’sthepoint?”
Doingmybesttodrownouttheirdrama,it’sSean’slastconfessionthathasmyearsperkingbackup.“IthoughtIwasdoingtherightthing,butIdon’tknowwhatthatiswhenitcomestoyou.”
“Whatdoesthatmean?”
“Itmeans,forbothoursakes,Ishouldprobablyleaveyoualone,butI’mnotfuckinggoingto.”
Thereitis—thetruthherefusestospareeitherofusashekisseshertodrillhispointhome.AsIthought,he’sbeenfightinghimselfwhenitcomestoher—whileI’vemadeafirmdecisionthepredicamentwillremainhisandhisalone.Tippingmybeer,IsurveythesparklingpoolandsurroundinggroundswhileItuneinontheirbackandforth.
“…Fatherhassecuritycamerassetupeverywhere,andhe’salreadythreatenedmeabouthavingcompany.Thisisn’tgoingtobodewell.”
Whichispreciselythereasonforourambushtoday.
Surprisingly,Seanletsherinonthecamerasurveillancesolution,me,butnotthewhen.
Seanreallydoestrusther,andduetomydecisiontoletherthrough—ifonlytohastenservingupRoman’sjustice—meansshe’llbeprivytoalotmoreinthecomingdaysandweeks.ButwhateverSean’sthinkingaboutregardingCecelialongtermisdelusional.Onthat,Idecidetoletmybrotherbetheonetobreakittohimwhenthetimecomes.
Atthemoment,RomanisboardingaplaneforadaytriptooneofhisDetroitplants,whichgivesusjustenoughtimetogetinandout.Whenthesubjectisredirectedtome,Seanpleadsmycase.“Look,heisn’teasy.Buthe’sherebecausehewantstobe.”
Parttruth,partlie.
“Isthatsupposedtomakemefeelbetter?Theguyisamotherfucker.”
Tippingmybeertoagainhidemygrin,Tylerintervenes.“Good.MomandDadmadeup.Timetocelebrate.”HespraysthemwithabeerasCecelia’slaughterringsout,andSeanandIlockeyesasIreadymyselftoplaymypart.
Myturntomakenice.
HescoopsCeceliauphoneymoonstyleanddelivershertomebyjumpingthembothintothepool.Breachingwater,shesputtersoutherscoldastheybegintocooatoneanotheruntilSean’scellphonerings.Heimmediatelyexitsthepooldartingaglancemywaybeforeheanswerswitha,“Hey,Dad.”
Rightnow,DadisbeingplayedbyJeremy.He’sgivingustheallclear,statingRoman’splaneisclimbingtowardanaltitudehecan’tbereached—andwecan’tbemonitored.
Feelingtheweightofherfamiliarstare,Ceceliainchestowardme,whereIleanagainsttheshallowendwall.Hereyesroamingovermeinanunmistakableway.
“Isupposeyouwantanapology,”Isay,closeenoughtodrinkineverydetail.She’spuretemptation—long,drenched,slightlyfire-kissedhair,perfectfuckingfeatures,bee-stunglips,palm-sizedtits,tonedtorso,amplecurves—aliteralwetfuckingdream.Thetriangleofmaterialbetweenherthighshoversjustabovethewaterassheinchestowardme.
DespitethegrudgeIhaveagainsthermaker,shereallyisthemostbeautifulfuckinggirlI’veeverlaideyeson.Alongwithamixofthingsthatwouldallureanyman—innocentandforbidden
Amouthwateringcombinationoffireandwater.
Butdespitemybody’sconstantreactiontoher—notforme.
“Iwon’tholdmybreath,”shescoffs.
Downingmybeer,Iholdupafinger.“Okay,IthinkI’mready…”Iexaggeratemyexhale.“I’msorryItoldSeanIcaughtyoustaringatmydick.”
Shesurprisesmebytossingherheadbackandlaughing,andIcan’thelpmyreturnsmile.Hereyeswidenatthesightofitbeforeshespeaksup.
“Youareararebastard.”
“Iprefermotherfucker.”Hereyesbulge.Yeah,Iheardyou,mouse.
“Atleastthen,itwouldbesomewhatfactual.Isn’tthatright,Tyler?”
WebothglanceovertoTyler,whoshootsmethefinger,addingina“FuckYou.”
CeceliaandIshareagrinashernavyeyesdancealongmyprofile,dippingfurtherwitheverywordshespeaks.“Youhadyourdooropen.Iwassurprised,tosaytheleast.”
“Andtheotherfiveminutes?”Iquip.
“Dowomenactuallysleepwithyou?”
“No,never.They’retoobusyscreamingmyname.Exceptthelastgirl,shewaslikeacorpse.”
Nooffense,Ginger.
“Youareunreal.Psychiatrist’sdreamindeed.”
Hereyesglazeasalittlesilencelingers—asdoesherappraisalofme.“Whatareyouthinkingabout?”
Herguiltygazedrops.“Nothing.”
Thisgirlhasnochanceofmakingitinourworldifshecan’tplayoffsomethingassimpleassexualattraction.ThoughIcan,IfindmyselfinanewbutpredictablepatternasIfightmycock’sreactiontoher.ThankfulwhenTylerleaveshisloungerandSeannearswithanodforthebothofus,Iturnandpushoutofthepool.Outoftimeforthepattycakeportionoftheplan,Ibeginwalkingtowardthebackdoor,andCeceliaspeaksup.“Whereareyougoing?”
“Havetousethecan.”
“Youcouldask.”
Theclankofthegateclosingatthesideofthehousecuesmein,andIturnandlowermyshorts.
“OhmyGod,”Ceceliasoundsupbehindmewithfastdirections,“throughthedoorpastthestudy,downthehallontheleft.Savage.”
Candyfromababy.
“Oh,IthinkImightlikethatbetterthanmotherfucker.”
Seanjoinsherinthepool,promptlystealingherattention.
Closingthebackdoor,IglancearoundbeforestalkingthroughtothefrontdoorandopeningitwhereTylerstandsinwait,ourpackeddufflebaginhand
Withinsecondswe’reinRoman’ssadexcuseofasecuritycloset,sixsurveillancescreensstackedatopeachotheronsmallshelves.
“Youwereright.He’sgotthemangledtocaptureeverypossibleapproach.”
“It’sthereasonhebuiltitlikethis.Noambushispossiblewithoutbeingflagged.Whichmeansthere’ssomethinginthishouseworthfinding.”
“Thenwhywouldn’theupdatehiscameras?”
“Becausehehadnorealplansoflivinghere.”
“Sowhybringherhere?”
We’restillnoclosertofindingoutwhyamonthafterherarrival.
“Exactly,”Isay,unzippingtheduffle.
Tylerflipsthroughthescreens,stoppingasSeancornersCeceliainthepoolandbeginsfuckingher.
“Luckybastard,”hegroans,asmyeyeslingeralittlelongeronthetwistofherfeaturesbeforehekillsourview.“Now,let’shopethefuckerhassomestaminabecause,asyouknow,it’sbeenawholeweek.”
Herollshiseyesduetothenumberofargumentswe’vehadwithSeanintryingtokeephimatbayuntilwecouldfigureouthowtousetheirlittlelovequarreltoouradvantage.Thoughhemadeitmycall,he’sbeenvocalaboutthetimeit’staken.
TakingwhatIneedfromTyler’sbackpack,Idropmysoakedtrunksandstarttowelingoff.
“Jesus,man,somefuckingwarningwouldhavebeennice.”
Ipullupmysweats.“Justtryingnottoleakalloverthefloor.Don’twantyoutohavetomopup.”
“I’mtalkingaboutthefuckinghard-on,”hegritsout,eyespinchedclosedasIglancedownattheinconvenienceofinteractingwithCecelia.
Islaphisjawplayfully,andhiseyespopopeninaglare.“Youpoorthing,Iguessyoudidn’tgetthetalk.I’llmakeitbrief.Oneday,whenyou’reabigboy,littleTylerwillgrowthreesizestoobigandwanttodosomepushupswhenheseesabeautifulgirl.”
“Playitoffallyouwant,butIphysicallyfeltthatchemistryyoutwowerestirringupinthatpool.”
Shrugging,Ibendanddigintothebag,snatchingsomeofthemicsandaflashdrive.
“You’renotgoingtodenyit?”Tylerasks.
“Idon’tlietomyself,butthat’sexactlywhatitis.ChemistrybecauseIcan’tandmentallytaxingbecauseIwon’t.Butthat’sallitis…anold-fashionedcaseofwantingtofuckwhatyoucan’thavebecauseit’sbadforbusinessandwilldestroyrelationships…butyouwouldn’tknowanythingaboutthat,wouldyou?”
Heholdsmyinquisitivegazeamillisecondbeforerecovering.“Clocksticking.I’vegotthefirstfloor.”
Makingmywayupstairsandintoherroom,Iheadstraightforthelaptoponherbed,plugintheflashdriveIfilledwithspyware,andstartthedownload.
Glancingaround,Ispotabagofbooksfromamajorretailer.Unabletohelpmygrin,Iunloaditonherbed.Shehasn’tbeenbacktothelibrarysinceItoldheritwasoff-limits.She’savoidingmewhenandwhereshecan,asIhaveher.Areceiptfloatsout—landingontopofthepile—andonthebackofitisahandwrittenlistofbooksshewantstoread.
Allofthemromance.
Luckyforher,Sean’sjusthertype
Itstrikesmethen—asitoftenhasovertheyears—thatmostofthepopulationcravesthattypeofconnection.Bynow,Ishouldhavefeltsomedeepseededneedinsideofmethatlongsforaspiritualbondtogowiththesexual.Maybebyallowingmyselftoremainstunted,Iinadvertentlygotridofthaturge
Tyler’svoicejogsmeoutofmythoughts.“Allgooduphere?”
Shovingthebooksbackintothebag,IsituateitthewayIfounditandpocketthereceiptbeforepullingtheflashdrivefromhercomputer.“Itisnow.Gotthreemicsin.”
“Downstairsisgoodtogo,andIgottherestofthisfloorwhileyouweresniffingthroughherpantydrawer.”
“Fuckoffwiththat,”IsayasheflicksmyearplayfullywhenIpushpasthimandheadtowardthestairs.
“Tellthattoyourdick,”hemutters.
“He’sabig,big,boybutevenwithhisego,hemakesgooddecisions.”
“Timewilltell,”hetaunts,trailingmeasIstarttotakethestairstwoatatimeandstoponadimejustafewstepsdown—thehairsonthebackofmyneckspikinginawarenesswhileanuneasyfeelingspreadsthroughme.
“What?”Tylerasks,alltracesofanimationinhistonegoneasIglanceuptowherehestandsatthetopofthestairs.
“SureRomanisonaplane?”Iask,uneaserunningfrommysoakedheadtomybarefeet.
“Fuckingpositive.”Hisbrowspinchinconfusion.“What’shappeningrightnow?”
“Idon’tknow,”Isay,scanningthefoyer.ThefeelingstartstodissipateasIstartbackdownthestairs.“Nothing.”
“Yousure?”Tylerprods.
No.
“Yeah.Let’sgo.”
“Allgrown-upswereoncechildren…butonlyfewofthemrememberit.”—LePetitPrince,AntoinedeSaint-ExupéryAknockonmydoorjarsmeasIeyetheclockonmymonitorandknowtheonlypersonitcouldbeatthishour.Theonlybirdwhosenightsareasrestlessasmyown.Tylerentersasecondlater,handsfilledwithasolidblackbox.
“Delivery,”hechimes,aglintinhiseyes.
“From?”
“France.”Hesetstheboxinfrontofme.“MindifIstay?”
“Yeah,butstayanyway,”Ijest.IgotolookformyletteropenerasTylerproducesapocketknife.It’suniquebutseverelydated.“Howfuckingoldisthisthing?”
“Ancient,butitstillgetsthejobdone,”hestates,hisinterestinthecontentsoftheboxratherthanrelayingthebackstoryoftheknife.Placinghisexpressionasexcitement,myinterestsparks.Carefully,Islicethetapedbottomandreleasetheinch-thickprotectivecardboard.Pullingawaythebubblewrap,Iunveilalargeblackmailersittingatopthecontentswithasmallnotetapedtoit,handwrittenbymybrother.
Foryourlist.
Frèrespourtoujours
Aballlodgesinmythroatatthesightofthewords.
“Maman!”Iyell,runningintothekitchenaslightflashesandthegiant’sfootstepsrattlethewindows.
“Dominic?”Shewhispers,wipingherface,hereyesredandpuffy.
“Maman,thegiantisgoingtoeatme!”IlookovermyshouldertoseeTobiaschasingme.
“Oof,”MamansaysasIrunintoher,andshedropsapictureonthetable.“Slowdown,PetitPrince,”shesays,pullingmeintoherlap.“Whatgiant?”SheasksTobias.
“Iwasjusttryingtostophim,”Tobiassays.
“No,”IshakemyheadasmoreofMaman’spicturesfallonthefloor.“Hesaidtobeveryafraidthatthegiantfootwascomingtoeatme!”
“Isaidthegiantwouldonlyeatyouifyougotoutofbed.”Hesmilesasthegiant’sfootsoundscomescloser.“See,”hemakesbigeyesatme,“he’scoming.”
“Tobias!”Mamansays.“It’sjustastorm,Dominic,”shewhispers.“Nothingtobeafraidof.”ShelooksatTobias.“Whyareyoutryingtoscareyourbrother?”
“Iwastryingtokeephiminbed,”Tobiastellsher,“becausehedoesn’tlisten.Ever.”
“Andyou’llkeephimupallnight,”MamansighsasIpointtooneofthepictures.
“That’sTatie!”
“Yes,”shewhispers,pullingmeclosertoherasIpointtoanotherpicture,“That’sPapa!”
“Uhhmm,”Mamansays.
“Helooksfunny,”Igiggle.
“Henevercuthisbrightredhair,”shesays,ticklingme.Ipointtoanotherpicture.
“Whoisthat?”
“That’syou,”shepointstothebaby.“Andthatisyourbrotherholdingyou,”shesays,holdingoutthepictureforTobiastosee.
Tobiasshakeshishead.
“Takeit,”shesays.Hesnatchesitoutofherhandsbutdoesn’tlookatit.
“Youweremadathimthen,too,”shelaughs.
“Forwhat?”Tobiassays,sittinginthechairnexttousandlookingatthepicture.
“Forbeingborn,”Mamansays.
“That’sstupid,”hesnorts.“Youcan’tbemadatsomeoneforbeingborn.”
Shelaughs.“Well,youwere.Becauseyouhadjustthrownhiminthetrash.”
“Youthrowedmeinthetrash?!”
Tobiasdoesn’tanswer.
“Hewasasbigasyouarenow,”Mamantellsme.“Hewasonlymadbecausehedidnotwanttosharemyhugs.”
“Ishouldthrowedyouinthetrash,”ItellTobias.
“It’sthrow,imbecile,”Tobiassnorts.
“Hush,bothofyou,”Mamansighs,lookingovertoTobiasthewayshedoeswhensheisabouttospankuswiththebigspoon.“Familyisimportant,”shesaysassheputsthepicturesinthebox.“Nomatterhowmadyoumakeeachother,youwillalwaysbebrothers.”Ipickupthepicturestohelpherputtheminthebox.
“Careful,Dom…Merci,”shekissesmyhead.
“Youcankeephim.I’mleaving,”Tobiassays,standing.
“Youcan’tleave,”IwiggleoffMaman’slapasshetriestoholdmestill.“Youcan’tleaveTobias…wedon’thaveanymoney!”Ipullonhisarmtostophim.“Papasaidwedon’thaveanymoneytokeeparoofandwater!Howwillyoubrushyourteeth?Howwillyoupoop?”
TobiasandMamanlaugh.
“It’snotfunny!”Iyell.“Maman,hecan’tleavewhenittunders.Thegiantwilleathim!”
Mamanpullsmebackintoherlap,andIsquirmagainstherwhenthehouseshakes.“It’sokay,Dom.It’sonlythunder,notthefootstepsofagiant.”
“Youcan’tleavenow,”ItellTobias.“Notwithtunder.”
“Thunder,”hesays,thewayhedoeswhenhesoundsoutwordswhenweread
“Thunder,”Isayback,andhesmiles,hischestpuffingasherollshiseyes.
“Ifyouleave,wewillbebrotherswhereveryougo,right,Maman?”
“Dom?”TylersaysasIstarethroughmybrother’ssignature.
“That’sright,PetitPrince.”
Alwaysbrothers.
Forothers,it’smostlikelyseenasasimplesentimentbetweensiblings.Beneaththeapparent,it’sbeenTobias’swayoftellingmeIcomefirstsinceheleftforprepschoolatsixteen.Throughthelongyearsofenduringhisabsencesince…I’vestruggledtobelieveitattimes.Ourcallearlierbeingoneofthosetimes.
“Fuck,man.Thesuspenseiskillingme,”Tylerbustlesnexttome.Ilifttheheavymachineoutoftheboxandexamineit.It’sassleekasastealthbomber.Thematerialseeminglyindestructible.
Checkingforapowerbutton,Ifindnone,butfigureoutthecruxofwhyinseconds.Openingthelaptop,Iplacemyhandswherethekeyboardwouldbe,anditlightsupinstantly.TypingwhatIknowTobiasmeanttobethemasterpassword,itsparkstolifeatthespeedoflight.Thekeyboardglittersredbeneathmyfingertips,theplacementperfection.Thescreenitselflookslikesomethingoutofafuckingsci-fimovie.Asifyoucanreachinandphysicallytouchthedisplayandmechanicalpartspoweringanimatedlybehindit.
“Holyfuckingshit,”Tylerexclaimsinrareanimationashegrabstheslimblackenvelopeandtearsitopen.“Instructions?”
Ican’thelpmychuckle.“Notforthis.”
Withintwocommands,amenuofprogramsappears,andIchooseeveryoneofthem.WhatIimagineisajunkie’stypeofrushseepsthroughmyveinsastheydownloadinseconds—programsthatwouldtypicallytakehours.
Tylerplucksathick,lonecertificatefromtheenvelope,andIdon’thavetoseethefrontofittoknowwhatitis.
“Youdidn’tgrabthiswhileyouwereinBoston?”
HeturnsmyMITdegreetowardme,andIjerkmychin.“Ididn’twalk.”
“Whythefucknot?”
“Wasn’timportant.”
“Toyou,”hestates.
“Hewasn’tthere.”
“Thissaysitall,”heshakesthecertificate.“So,I’mguessingyoudidn’tleaveaforwardingaddress?”
“Nopoint.”
“Hepaidforitandwantedtoseeit.I’mwillingtobetthatwhenhedid,itwasoneoftheproudestmomentsofhislife.”
Thesentimenthitssohardthatmythroatburns.Whetherthegiftisamanipulationtoplacatemeornot,IknowTyler’swordsaretruerthanmyown.Mybrotherhasnevershiedawayfromhisprideinme,nomatterwhatcompanyispresent.Notever.HeknewTylerwouldbetheonetohandmydegreetome,andthiswashiswayofdisplayingthatprideasbothbrother…andfather.
“Heorderedthisoverayearago,”Tylercutsin,hiswordsstrikingdeep.“Evenwithmyconnections,ittookmemonthstofindcapableenoughhandstodesignit—andmorethanoneset—becausethisistheonlyoneofitskind.Wemadefuckingsureofit.”
Emotionthreatensashecontinues.
“Dom,youmaythinkourclubishisgreatestaccomplishment—”
“Youcangonow,”Isay,drainingtherestofmycoldcoffee,myheartpoundingharderwithhisassurances.Heignoresmeasusual,foreverplayingbigbrother,eventhoughhe’sonlygotmebeatinagebymonths.
“Itmaynotseemlikeitattimes,butyou’retheonlyonethathelpshimmakesenseofhislifewhenhecan’t.He’sbeenwhereyouare.Justasfrustrated,justaseagertodoleoutpunishmentandforcedtowait…anddoyouknowwhy?”
Forus.
Forustogrowup,manup,tounderstandtheimportanceofwhatwe’redoing.Forustoalignattherightfuckingtime.Forthehereandnow.
“You’vemadeyourpoint,”Imanagetogetoutwithoutemotioninmytone
“Allright,man,”Tylerroundsmychairtogetabetterlook,eyesbrimmingwithsatisfaction.“Just…tofinallyseeit,it’sfuckingunreal.”
“Amillion-dollarlaptop,”Iutter,turningbacktothescreen,equallyawestruck.
Tylerscoffs.“Thedownpayment.”
“Fuckingserious?”
Hegripsmyshoulder.“Iquestionedwhetherornottoletyouhaveyournewtoythislate,butordersareorders,andhewantedyoutohaveitassoonasitgothere.”Takinginmyappearance,heshakeshisheadwithagrin.“Youneedsomefuckingsleep,butIcanseebythatsmileyou’retryingsohardtohidethatthere’snochanceofthathappening.I’llcoveryourshiftatthegaragetomorrow.”
“I’lloweyou,”Itellhim,runningmyfingersoverthemostsophisticatedequipmentontheplanet—thepossibilitiesendless.Tobiasmightnotbegreenlightingmyplans,buthejustgavemetheperfectfuckingtooltocarrythemoutwhenthetimecomes.
It’sapromise.
Apromiseoffuturepermission,andit’senoughfornow.
“You’rehisgreatestinvestment,”Tylersneaksinasmyeyesstarttoburn.Ican’thelp,nordoIgiveafuckaboutwhatemotionhehearswhenIfinallyspeak.“It’sfuckingperfect.Thanks,man,really.”
Hetossesanewburnerphoneonmydeskbeforewalkingtowardmydoor.“Don’tthankme.”StalkingdownthehalltowardSean’sbedroom,I’mstoppedoutsidewhenIhearhislowchuckleand,asecondlater,realizehe’snotalonewhenasoftreplyiswhispered.
Cecelia.
Figures.They’vebeeninseparablesincetheymadeuppoolsideaweekago.“Thatmusthavebeensomedream,Pup.”
“Whydoyousaythat?”
“Youweremoaning.Whatwasmygirldoing?”
Apause.
“Idon’tremember.”
“Huh,”hesaysinawayIknowhe’scallingbullshit.“That’sashame.Iwould’velovedtohaveheardthosedetails.”
“Somedreamsjustaren’tgoodenoughtoremember,”sheoffers,evenIcantellshe’slying.Notasecondlater,shecatchesmewhereIstand,watchingthemintheirearlymorningspoon.It’swhenhereyeswidenandthennarrowthatmysuspicionsareconfirmed.“Howlonghaveyoubeenstandingthere?”
“Doyouliveherenow?”Icounter.“Becauseifso,we’reoutofmilk…Sean,aword.”
Sean’ssparklingeyesdimashegroansinprotest.“Thiscan’twait?”
“Ifitcould,Iwould’vesparedmyselfyourpillowtalk.”
Ceceliacutsin.“It’sfine.Ineedtogetgoinganyway.”
Sheliftsthesheetclosertoherchestandfrownsatme.“Doyoumind?”
Unmoving,Imotiondismissively.“Takeyourtime.”
Seanchuckles.“Comeon,man.It’stooearlyforyourshit.”
Snakingherarmout,Ceceliasnagshershortsfromthefloorandtugsthemonbeneaththecoverswhileshootingdaggersatme.“You’rearealasshole.Youknowthat?”
Aftermanagingtogethershirtonthesameway,shestandsandslidesonherflip-flops.
“Whileyou’reout,grabsomecoffeetoo,anddon’tbecheap.”
Rollinghereyes,shelooksbackdownatSeanandplantsakneeonthebed,hoveringwithinreach.“Seeyouatwork?”
“Yeah,”hewhispers,“andafter,sodon’tmakeanyplans.”
“Allright.”Shedipsandkisseshim,andhecupsthebackofherhead,makingitlast,nofucksgivenabouttheaudience.Hereyesflicktominebeforeshepullsaway.AftergrabbingherpursefromSean’sdresser,shemovestowardthedoor,andIgiveherjustenoughspacetosqueezethrough.Sheattemptstogetpastmewithoutcontactandfails.
“Sweetdreams,”Iutterlowenoughforhertohearwhenshepushespastme.Hereyesflittominebrieflybeforeshestalkstowardthestairs.TurningbacktoSean,wesitinsilenceuntilthefrontdoorclosesandhercarstarts
Sighing,hemovestositattheedgeofhisbedbeforegrabbinghisjeansfromthefloor.“Youjustcan’thelpyourself,canyou?”
“Soundslikeaquestionyouneedtodirecttoyourmirror.”
Hefastenshisjeansbeforewalkingovertohisdresser,rollingonsomedeodorantbeforesnatchingandpullingdownafreshT-shirt.“So,whatcouldn’twait?”
“Youreallydofeelforher.”
Seanpausesbeforetuckinghiswalletintothebackpocketofhisjeans.Grabbinghiskeys,helooksovertome,theanswerclearinhiseyesasTylerappearsathisdoor.“Good,you’rebothup.”
Seanrunsahandthroughhishair.“Whatthefuckisupwithyoutwoassholescreepingintomyroomsoearlythismorning?”HiseyesscourTylerwithconcern.“Youjustgettingin,man?”
“Yeah.I’vebeenworkingonourcrateissue.”
“And?”Seanprompts.
“Letmerephrase,we’vegotdifferentproblems,”Tylersays,hisexhaustionapparent.
Seantucksafreshpackofsmokesintohisjeans.“So,basically,businessasusual?Oh,happyfuckingday.”
Tylernods.“Andit’sjustgettingstarted.”
“MindifIgetacoffeeandhaveasmokefirst?”Seanasks.
“Notime.I’llmeetyououtside.”Tylerexitsthebedroomandheadsdownstairs,andSeanglancesoveratme,resumingourconversation.
“Yeah,Idofeelforher,andI’vebeenhonestaboutit,sothatmakesoneofus.”
“Thefuck?”
Heshakeshishead.“I’mnotblind,man.Seemstomeyou’rebothfightingtheinevitable.”Heliftsabrow.“Wanttotalkthatout?”
“Sure,pencilthatinforfuckingnever.”
Thispastweek,Sean’sinfatuationhasledtomorerun-inswithCecelia.Afewdaysago,shecaughtmeinthemidstofadeepsession,pacingmyroom.Undeterredbymyopenlyhostilereception,sheofferedmethebowloficecreaminherhand.
Onelonglookatherprofileasshesteppedintomyroomtoleaveitonmydesk,silencedeverybitoftheroarinsidemyheadandchestandhadmelosingfocus.Ithankedherbyslammingthedoorinherface.Seanreadsmylingeringsilenceasanadmissionthatsendshiswheelsturninginthewrongdirectionandjackinghisjaws.“Youinneedofanotherfieldsessiontoworksomeofthataggressionout,MajorMalfunction?”
“Cute.Willyoubeusingallyourgirlfriend’squipsagainstmenowthatyou’restrungout?”
“Yep,thisisacaseoffull-onpenisenvy,”hetaunts.
“Sureit’snotyouwho’senvious?”Iplayfullyslaphisface.“BecauseIthinkwebothknowwhoshewasdreamingabout.”
Withthat,hepounces,managingtododgemyfirstlightfist,landinghisownsuckerpunchbeforeracingintothehall.Ilungeforhimasheswingsandnarrowlymissesmebeforeleapingontothestairs.Whenhe’shalfwaydown,Itacklehimatthelanding,andwebothslamintothedrywall,hearingitcrack
“Getyourfuckingdickbeatersoffme,”Seangroans,gaininghisbearingsbeforethrowingablindfistbehindhim,catchingmeinthethroatandmomentarilystunningme.Myhoarsethreatreacheshimashepushesoffthewallgivingchase.“Youbetterrun.”
Seanburstsoutofthetownhousewithmehotonhisheelsandcomestoadeadstopafewfeetout.HecursesbeforeglancingbackoverhisshoulderatmewhenIseeTyler’sexpression—andwhomhe’swaitingwith.
“Itislonelywhenyou’reamongpeople,too.”—LePetitPrince,AntoinedeSaint-ExupéryGingersitspassengerinTyler’struckwherehestandsnexttohisopendoor,holdinganicepacktohercheek,herlowerlipcakedwithdriedblood.
FurycloudsmyvisionasIstalktowardherandpinchherchinbetweenmyfingers,slowlyturningherfacetosurveythedamage.
“I’msorry,Dom.Ididn’tknowwhereelsetogo.He’sonarampage,andToby,”asobburstsfromherasSeanspeaksupfrombehindme.
“Dom,listentome.Youcan’tgooff.Nowisnotthetime.”
Hestepsupnexttome,hisinstructionsforGinger.“Ginger,Ihatefuckingsayingthis,butyou’llhavetogothelegalroute.”
“Jeffrey’scousinisaTripleFallscop,”shedisclosessoftly.“I’vealreadytried.”
“Fuck,”Seanexhales,snappinghisZippoclosed.
Tylergentlytucksherbackinsidehistruck.“Giveusafewminutes,sweetheart.Okay?”
Ginger’seyesremaingluedtominethroughtheglassafterheshutsthedoor.
Tylerushersmeawayfromheraswehuddleintheyard,mypulsethrumminginmyears.
Seanaudiblyexhalesaplumeofsmoke.“Can’twejustwakeupandeatourWheatieslikenormalfolk?”
“Notwhatwesignedupfor,”Tyleranswers,eyesonmeforadecision.
Seanwaveshimoff,lookingbetweenus.“Yeah,yeah.What’stheplan?”
TylerpicksupwhereSeanleftoff,hiswordsforme.“Dom,she’sgoingtohavetogothroughlegalchannelstogethimout.There’snootherway.”
“There’saway,”Iclip,pressingbackagainsttheragethreateningtoovertakemeasIsiftthroughpossibilities.
DreadcoversboththeirexpressionsasTylerpressesme.“Whatareyouthinking?”
“GethertoLayla,anddon’tlethergohome.”Tylernodsand,withoutanotherword,walksbacktohistruckbeforebackingout.
Ginger’seyesstaygluedtomineasSeanspeaksupbesideme.“Icanseeathousandscenariosgoingthroughthatfuckingheadofyours.”HeexhalesmoresmokeasIstalktowardmyCamaro.Seanopensmypassengerdoor,optingtostickwithmeuntilheknowsit’ssafetoleavemetomyowndevices,dreadinhistone.“Wonderwhichonewillcostmelessskin.”
Splinteringthefrontdooropeninsteadofapoliteknock,mybirdsfloodinfrombehindme.Scanningthespace,I’mmetwiththesightofJeffrey’sfriendsscatteredthroughoutGinger’slivingroomandkitchenindifferentstatesofafuckinghigh.OnewithToby’sbabybottletippedup,drinkingfromthenipple.
Cloakedfromheadtobootsinblack,myinkedbrothersbegintopluckawayJefferey’stribeonebyone.RusselldragsonekickingandscreamingthroughthefrontdoorjustasIzeroinonthemotherfuckerandhiswideeyes.Inaflash,I’mgrippinghimbytheneckandhisjeans,liftinghimchestlevelbeforedroppinghimontothelitteredcoffeetable—whichshattersbeneathhim.Inseconds,theapartmentiscleared,andtheonlyremainingscreamsarethoseofthebabydownthehall,echoinghismothers.IliftJeffreybythecollartoseehimconsciouswithonlyafewcuts—whichwon’tdo.
Hiseyeswidenwhenherealizeswhoisstaringbackathimthroughtheskimask.Hisscreamcutoffwithmyfirstblow.Knowingtimeisoftheessence,IraindownonhimasmanytimesasIcan,feelinghisfleshgivewaytomyknucklestomakesurehe’sunrecognizableuntilTylerripsmeaway.
“That’senough,brother,”heurgesbeforedraggingJeffrey’sunconsciousbodythroughthedoor.Mariefollows,beggingTylertoreleasehim—afuckinglostcause.Pullingmyglovesfrommypocket,Islidethemonanddialthenumberwithmyburnerphonewhilemakingmywaytowardthebaby’sroom.
Pushingopenthedoor,Toby’sscreamsringinmyearsfromwherehestandsinhiscrib.Diaperweigheddown,tearstreaks—bothnewandold—coatinghisfilthycheeks.
Tampingdowntherageatthesightofhim,IpullmymaskupasIapproachbeforeliftinghimfromhiscrib.Hestaresbackatme,terrified,asIrunmyglovedhandsdownhisbackinasoothingmotion.“Shhhh,littleman,it’sokay.It’sokay.”
“Pleasedon’ttakehim,Dom.”ThiscomesfromMarie,whonowstandsatthedoor,herpleaechoingthroughoutthequietapartment.Timeticking,IheartheoperatorontheotherendofthelinespeakupasIwalkovertoMarieandhandherToby.“Nomorechances.”
Puttingthephoneonspeaker,ItossitintoToby’scribastheoperator’svoicefillstheair.“Sir,areyouthere?Sir…wehaveaunitonthewaynowwithanETAoffourminutes.Iwanttoconfirmthatyouaskedforchildprotectiveservices.Canyoutellmetheageofthechild?Canyougetthemtoasafelocation?Sir?…Sir?”
Mariegasps,facetwistinginpanicasIpullmymaskdown.Stalkingpastherandclearingthefrontdoor,Ijumpinandclosethedoubledoorsonavanfullofscreamingdrugaddicts.
Limbsheavy,Ipullonthebluntwhilemakingbothaliteralandphysicalattempttodrivesomeoftherestlessnessoutofmybody.Tensionstartstomarginallydisbursewitheverylongpullontheblunt.Sinkingfurtherintomyseat,Iclickontheradio.
“It’s1AMinWesternNorthCarolina.AndnowforToday’sforecastandyourlocalnewsonthehour.Youcanexpectclearskiesformostofthedayandahighof87withtheslightpossibilityofalateafternoonshower.Nowforthenews…wow,getthis,folks.Eightmenwerejustarrestedforpublicintoxicationandindecentexposure.Themen”
Grinningatthestoplight,IgrabmycelltocallSeanandlethiminonthesecretwehandledwhilehewasworkinghisshiftatTechandpause,trackinghisNovainstead.
Grandad’sAppleFarm.
Tossingthephone,Idecidethisisanothersecrethewon’tbeprivyto.Whenhegotnowordfromusafterheclockedinforhisshift,I’mguessingheassumedweweren’tmakingamovetoday.He’ssopreoccupiedthatIdoubthe’llbothertoask.
Downshifting,IdecidethatthelongerIwaitforeveryonetogetonthesamepage,thelessgetsdone.We’vegotaseverekinkinoursystemthatneedstobeworkedoutbeforewecantakethingsfurther.
Sean’swordsaboutcountingonpeople’sloyaltyareringingtruerthanever.Overtheyears,he’sbeenapartofeverything,andhiscontinuedandvoluntaryabsencefromtheday-to-daylatelyhasmequestioningwhetherhisinkmattersasmuchasitusedto.Stingringinginmychest,Ifloorthegasandlettheroadguidemeuntilmyvisionstartstoblur.Eventhen,Ipushthroughasthetruthofitsettlesinmygut.ThetruththatlifemovedonwhenTylerandIleft,andnoonewaitedforeitherofus.
JustasnooneiswaitingforusnowTylerappearsinthedoorwaybeforetossingsomepaperworkonmydesk.Pullingmyearbudsout,IscanthereportashegivesmetheCliffsNotes.
“Mariedidn’timplicateus,eventhoughToby’snowinGinger’stemporarycustody.Marietookfullresponsibilityforallofitandhastomakestate-mandatedeffortstogethimback.”
“Ihavezerofuckingregrets,”Itossthepaperworkaside.
“Itwasrisky,”Tyleradds.
“Yeah,well,that’sourdailybread.”
“Weneedtogetgoing.”
Inod,loggingoutofafewwindows.We’remeetingatthewarehousetodiscusswhatinventorywewanttobarterwithbeforetakingittotradewithotherchaptersattheMeetup.
“AnywordfromMiami?”Iask,clickingoutofadozenactivewindowsonafewscreens.
“Stillhaven’tpaidduessincewedeniedtheminonourbigsecret.”
Thebigsecretbeingournewconnectionwithbirdsinfiltratinggovernmentagenciestohelpcovertheirassesinthefuture.Wedecidednottotaketherisksincethey’vealwaysskatedmorallinesandhavenointentionofstopping
“Fuckthem.”
“Mysentimentstoo,butsomethingisdefinitelyup.”
“Theycoming?”Iask,makingafewmoreclicks.
“Theinvitationwassent,butthey’vemissedthelasttwo.”
“Mightbetimetosendafewbirdstoflysouth.”
HenodsasIrollbackinmychairandglancesatmydesktop.“Whatwereyouworkingon?”
Hereadsmyhesitationandgrins.“NowIhavetoknow.”
Standing,Imovethemousetohoverovermylastopenwindowbeforeclickingitandturningupthevolume.Inthenextsecond,Cecelia’svoicefillstheair.
“IfI’mbeingforcedtopay,literally,foryouroversights,thenIwillhavemysaywithyou.ThatwomantoldmeoverandoverthatIwasyourdaughter,andIhadnoideahowtoconveythatmeantnothing!”
Eyeswidening,Tylerstepsintotheroomandshutsthedoor.
“Whendidthisgodown?”
“Aboutanhourago.”
“Seanhearityet?”
“No,butI’msurehe’saware.Thiswasbroughtonlastnightduetoaconfrontationattheplant.Cecelia’sbeenbullied.”
Tylernods.“Seanmentionedit.”
“Youdidn’ttellme.”
“Didn’tthinkyouwouldcare…anyvisualwiththis?”
“No,thismicisinthediningroom.”
“Damn.”Tylercrosseshisarms,listeningintentlyasCeceliagoesoffonRoman.“…askedyouforasinglething,asidefromextendingsupporttomymother,whoworkedherselfstupidtomakesureIhadeverythingIneeded,andyoucouldn’tbebotheredtodothat.I’maskingyoutomakethisright,notforme,butforthem.Ifyouwanttocontinuetodangleyourfortuneovermyhead,thendoit,orbetteryet,takeitawayandgiveitbacktothem.Becauseifit’stheirmoneyI’minheriting,Idon’twantit.”
Tyler’ssmilewidenswitheveryword.“She’sreallylayingintohim.Iwouldlovetohaveseenhisface.”
Istandandgrabmyboots,kickingintothematthefootofmybedasheturnstome.“Youstillaren’tsoldonher.”
Astatement—soIdon’tbotherwithareply.TylerletsmeoffthehookwhereSeanwouldn’t.
“Igetit,Dom.Idon’tthinkIcouldseparateiteitherifIwereinyourposition,butshe’sgoodpeople.Andwhip-smart.”
Idon’tcorrecthimthatrecently,IhavebeenabletoseparateCeceliafromherfather.Notjustbecauseofmyattractiontoher,whichthere’snofuckingdenying.Forthat,Iblamethegiftofvisioncombinedwithmyunderutilizedcock.
WhatIhaven’ttoldTyleristhateventhoughthisfightwentdownanhourago,I’vebeenlisteningtoherberateRomanonrepeatsinceithappened.MyissueswithSean’sabsencelesseningasIdid.He’sbeenutilizinghistimewithherwisely—notjustdickingher—butteachingherwhatwecollectivelystandfor,likeanyotherrecruit.Teachingsshe’sobviouslytakentoheartandringclearinherstandwithRoman.
“Idon’thavetoberightabouther,”ItellhimtruthfullyasCeceliacontinuestocriticizehimforalotmorethanbeingashittybusinessowner.“It’sbetterifI’mnot,”Igrabmykeysasheremotionalbaggagestartstoshiftherrant.
“I’msureit’salottodealwith,butthisoneisclosetoyou.It’srightunderyournose.”
Loweringthevolumeatthedoorway,Iglancebackathim.“Butyeah,I’mstillnotsoldformorereasonsthanone.She’stoofuckingyoung.”
“Butyou’reconsideringit.”Anotherstatement,butthistimeIspeakup
“Iwouldn’tgothatfar.”Ipushpasthimwherehelingersatthemonitor.HervoiceechoesdownthehallasItakethestairstwoatatime.Pushingoutofthefrontdoor,Sean’sconstantpleaswithmetohearheroutcirclethroughmymindasIstartupmyCamaroandflipontheradiotodrownthenewnoiseout.
CeceliashrieksnexttomewhenIbankontheshoulderandspeedbacktowardthegasstation.ShewasjustasconfusedasIwaswhenIpickedherup.I’mstillunsureastowhyIfelttheneedtoleavethecompoundanddrivestraighttoherhousetocollecther.TheworstpartwascallingSeanwhenIwasalreadysittinginRoman’sdriveway.The‘Itoldyou’inhistonecutshortwhenIhunguponhissmugass.
Pullingintothegasstation,Istoponadimeandglanceover.“Needanything?”
Sheexplodesonme,utilizingmynewpetname.“Youmotherfucker!”
“Notinthemoodforforeplayrightnow,buthowaboutaMountainDew?”
Shestaresbackatme,coiledupandreadytostrike,nodoubtduetomyimpromptudrivinglesson.“I’lltakethatasano.”
Fightingmychuckle,IexittheCamaroandwalkintothegasstation.Glancingoverthecounter,IspotZachinhisinvisiblecageonthefilthyfuckingfloor,booksspreadout,ashescribblesouthishomework.EverybitofthehighfromsparringwithSean’snewgirlfriendevaporateswhenItakeinhisattire.
Makingmywayovertothecooler,IopenittohearCeceliaaskingforthekeytotherestroomattheheadofthestore.Thankfulherlittlepissbreakwillbuymesometime,Iwalkuptothecountertostareintotheeyesoftheattendant,whosenervousgazemeetsminebeforeheglancesoverhisshoulderathisson.
Zach’sposturestiffensashecontinuestoworksteadilyonthefloorasTim’salcohol-lacedbreathhitsmewhenIsetdownmydrink.
“Needwraps.”
Henodsandturnstothedisplay.“Whatflavor?”
“Cherryorpineapple.”
Heglancesbackatme,browsdrawnthatI’mnotaskingformyusual.“Idon’thavethose.”
“Thenwhydon’tyoucheckyourlittlestockroom,”myreplymoreanorderthansuggestion.Movingaroundthecounter,Timagainlooksbackathisson,whodoesn’tlifthiseyes.AssoonasTimisoutofearshot,ZachpopsupfromthefloorwhileIstareathisthreadbareshoes.
“Hey,Dom,”hegreets,headlowered.Shameandembarrassment.TwothingsI’velivedwithfortoomanyyearsandcouldrecognizeinanyone.
Redirectingmyinspection,myangerflaresfurtherwhenIseethesametatteredbackpacknexttohisbooks.
“Thefuckhappenedtotheshoesandbackpack?”
Zachkeepshischintuckedintohischest.“Uh,theshoeswerethewrongsize.”
“Doesn’texplainwhyyouaren’twearingtherightone.Andthebackpack?”
“Dom—”
“Lookatme,”hiseyeslift,buthisneckremainslowered.“Liftyourchin,Zach,”Igritout.
Whenhedoes,Igetaclearviewofthefinger-sizedbruisesonhisthroat.They’refaintbutdamning.Turning,IwalkdowntheaisleandpinTimtoanendcapjustashewalksoutofthestockroom.
“Getout,”hewheezes.
“So,daddyfinallyfoundthemoneyI’vebeentuckingintohisson’sbackpackforyears.”
“Mysonisnoneofyourbus—”Isqueezeharder,interruptinghisrantuntilhe’srippingatmyhandforair.Theonlysoundinthestorecomingfromthelottomachines.Neithermanplayinghasbotheredtolookback.Goodonthem.
Timeisticking,andIknowIneedtobackaway,butonelookinZach’sdirection—ofthefearinhiseyes—hasmefinishingwhatIstarted.
“Yourobbedyourowngoddamnson,Tim,andforwhat?”
“It’snone—”
Squeezingtighter,Icuthimoff.“We’reoverthat,farpastformalintroductionsandpleasantries.Iknowyouusedtorunwithmybrother,andthatyouknowIknowthat.So,atonepoint,youhadpotential,butwebothknowhowyouwasteditandhavenoonetoblamebutyourself.”
“Dom,youknowit’sbeenhardformesincehismotherleft—”
“Whothefuckcouldblameher?Haveyouseenyourfuckingreflectionlately?”ItightenmygriponhisthroattomakesureIdon’tgetaresponse.Releasinghim,heremainswherehestands,neckmarred,whichbringsmelittlesatisfaction.
“I’mgoingtomakethiseasysinceyouseemlikeaprettysimpleman.ThemoneyI’mabouttogiveZachtoreplacetheshoesandbackpackyoustoleandanythingextrabelongstohim.Forneedsyoucan’tmeetbecauseyou’reaworthless,selfishfuckingdrunk.AnythingelseIdecidetogiftyoursonbetterfuckingremaininhispossession.”
Notsoplayfullytappinghisjaw,IwalkovertowhereZachstands,hisownprofileghastlywhite,andhandhimoneofmyburnerphonesafterprogrammingmycellin.Anow-shakingTimkeepshimselfbusyrestockingtheendcapIdestroyed.
“Memorizethisnumberandcallme.Everygoddamnday.IfhetouchesyouwhenIleave,callme—ifyouhaveto,cometothegarage.Doyouknowwhereitis?”
Zachnods,eyessoakedinfearasIpulloutawadofbillsandplacetheminhisshakingpalm,rageseepingintomeatthefearthat’sbeeninstilledinhim.
“Thisisn’thowit’ssupposedtobe,”Irelayastwintearshe’sbeenfightingfinallyspilloverhischeeks.
Atthesightofthem,ittakeseveryounceofmystrengthtospeakinsteadofact.“Zach,lookatme.”
Hedoes,andIfightwithinmyselftokeepwhat’sthreateningtounleashlockeddown.“Thisisnotyourfault.It’shisfuckingfailure.”Zachswallows.“Doyouhearme?”Istareintotheeyesofaterrifiedboywho’sbeenlivingimpoverishedandseeminglypunishedformerelyexistinginadrunk’sselfishworld—nodoubtfeelinglikeanunwantedburden,anobligation.AboyI’vewatchedgrowupovertheyearsandwasforcedtoabandonwhenIwenttoBoston.Aboywho’shabituallyabusedbytheadulthe’sbeenforcedtocallhisfather.“Itwashisdecisiontobecomewhoheis,andit’sgoingtobeyourchoicenottobeanythinglikehim.Oneyou’llmakeeveryday.Understand?”
Zachgivesmeanothernod,histearsflowingfreely.Tearsthattellmehe’ssufferedhorribly,whichpushesmetomylimit.IsnatchmydrinkfromthecounterandknowIhavetobailwhenasobescapeshim.
“Getmeawrap,okay?”Islapatwentyonthecounter.It’swhenIseethebruisedfingerprintsonthebackofZach’sneckthatIstepbackovertoTim,whorefusestomeetmyeyes.Forcingmywayintohispersonalspace,theyfearfullysnapup.“Ifyouabusehimagaininanyway,Iwillfuckingkillyou.”
TimgapesatmeasZachturnsandpauses,gauginghisfather’sexpressionwhenIstalkbackovertograbthepapers.
“Thanks,”Icollectthemandseemyhandisvisiblyshaking,“begood.”
“Iwill.”Zachnods,andIcantellhewantstosaymorebutdoesn’t.KnowingthatfearwillhavehiminachokeholduntilhebelievesanypartofwhatItoldhim.
He’seleven,soitwon’tbetoomuchlongeruntiltheresentmentkicksinandtheangerfollows.Whatscaresmeiswhohe’llbecomewhenhegetsangryaboutthevenomoushandhe’sbeendealtinaworldthat’sfuckedhim.Dressedinrags,surroundedbybigotswhocontinuallyshamehimfordoingnothingbutbreathinginandoutandtryingtosurviveanotherfuckingdaywithagrowlingstomach.
Willhestarttoretaliateagainstit?Willtherebeafuckingsoultheretoholdhimback?Apersonawareofthewarthatwillragebetweenhisheartandmindtohelphimunderstandthewaymybrother—who’sstilltryingtoreelinmyresentmentforDelphine—helpsme?
Exitingthestationwithworryforthefutureofthereplicaofayoungermeontheothersideoftheglass,I’mstoppedshortwhenIseeCeceliahemmedupatmyhood,beingharassedbyoneoftheregularsatthemachines.
“No,thecarisn’tmine,”sherepliespolitely,“excuseme.”
Whenheblocksherpath,IfeeltheangerIjusttemperedflareagainastheassholespeaksup,stallingherwithsmalltalk,hisposturepredatory,“Iusedtoracebackintheday.Justwantedto—”
Wrappingmyfingersaroundhisneck,Iusetheleveragetoswathimoutoftheway.Cecelia’seyeswidenwhenhesmacksintothesideofthebuildingbeforelandingonhisass.ShegapesatmeasIsnatchthebathroomkeyfromhergripwithmyorder—mypatiencethinnedout.“Getinthecar.”Liftingmygazebacktothestore,ImeetTim’seyesthroughthewindowbeforemakingmywaybackinside.TimmakeshimselfbusyasIhandZachthekeys,elevatingmyvoice.“Seeyoubothsoon.”Delphine’spillboxandtrashcaninhand,IstopoutsideofTobias’soldbedroomdoorandtwistthelockfrominsideincaseCeceliausesthebathroomandgetscurious—whichislikelysinceshebulldozedherwayinsidethehouseafterIorderedhernotto.Satisfiedwhentheknobdoesn’tgive,IreturntothelivingroomwhereDelphinesitsinherrecliner,CeceliahoveringuncomfortablynearbyasIsetthepillboxonhertableandthetrashcanwithinreach.
“Allseparated.Takethem,Tatie,oryou’llgetsicker,”Iorder,spottingtheFrenchtranslationBibleforeverrestinginherlap.“Toolateforyou,witch.”
Weshareachucklebeforeshespeaksup.“Ifthere’sabackdoorintoheaven,maybeI’llfinditforyoutoo.”
“MaybeIdon’tagreewithHispolitics,”Iadd,unwillingtogetintoanotherspiritualdebate.
“MaybeHedisagreeswithyours,doesn’tmeanHecan’tbeanally.AndyouforgetIknowyou.Andstopseparatingmypills.I’mnotaninvalid.”
Takinginherfrailappearance,Ican’thelpmyreply.“You’redoingagoodjobgettingthere.Don’tdrinktonight.I’mnotsearchingthehouse,butifyoudo,youknowwhatwillhappen.”
“Yeah,yeah,go,”shedismissesmeasIswipetheremoteandbeginclickingthroughchannels.
ThemoodintensityshiftsbehindmebeforeCeceliaspeaksup,herquestionforDelphine.“Shouldwestay?”
“Notmyfirsttime.Go,thenightisyoung,andsoareyou,don’twasteit,”Delphinegivesinatypicalreply,thoughherweaktonebetraysthestrengthofthedeclaration.
Fightingtheurgetosnapoutmyrebuttal,Imutteritinstead.“Youaretoo.”
TosaythatwhateverfeelingsIhaveformyauntarecomplexwouldbeagrossunderstatement.Inthelasthandfulofyears,we’vecometoanunderstandingofsorts.InnowaydoIviewherasaparent,butaparentiswhatshe’striedtoresembleasoflate—morerecentlyinthemonthsshe’sconvincedherselfherdeathisimminent.Onlyescalatingherillnesswiththewayshetreatsherbody,Delphine’sbeentryingtopassdownwhatnuggetsofwisdomshefeelsarefittingforme.Tohercredit,I’vebeenlistening.
Forthemostpart,oureffortshaveprovenworthit.We’vesalvagedwhatrelationshipwe’recapableof—unless,duringourconversations,I’mremindedofhercrueltyearlyon.
Admittedly,seeinghersoweakandterrifiedhasbeatenalotoftheresentmentoutofme.Eventhougharagingalcoholic,shewasonceaforcetobereckonedwith.Aforcethat,atonepoint,TobiasandIfoundimpossibletomanage.Amidstherdrunkenramblingsovertheyears,someofherlogicasTobias,Sean,Tyler,andIstrategized,wasbrilliant.Weputittouse—especiallyherinsightonfightingthemachineweallloathe.Inthat,she’sinadvertentlybeenapartofrearingthesoldierswe’vebecome,evenifshelostthewarofhavingherownroleinourmovement.
IfandwhenDelphinelosesthislastfight,I’munsureofhowI’llfeelorwhat,andtheideaofthathasmemindlesslyfilteringchannelsasCeceliasoftlywhispers,“Romans8:38-39.”
AflipofpagessoundsbetweenmycontinuouschannelclicksasDelphinerecitesthedesignatedpassage.“ForIamsurethatneitherdeathnorlife,norangelsnorrulers,northingspresentnorthingstocome,norpowers,norheightordepth,noranythingelseinallcreationwillbeabletoseparateusfromtheloveofGodinChristJesusourLord.”
AbriefsilenceensuesbeforeTatiespeaksupwithashakeinhervoice,herquestionposedtoCecelia.“Doyoubelievethat’strue?”
Turning,I’mslammedintobythesightofCeceliakneelingatDelphine’sfeetassheoffersmorewordsofcomfort.“ThosearetheonlyversesI’vememorized.So,Iguess,maybe,Iwanttobelieveit.”
Delphine’seyesslowlylifttomine,andCecelia’sdeepbluegazefollows.Thesecondweconnect,atidalwaveofawarenesscrashesintome.That’swhenIseeit,fuckingfeelit,andI’mnottheonlyone.Aheartbeatlater,DelphineconfirmsitwithaFrenchwhisperedwarning.“Elleesttropbelle.Tropintelligente.Maistropjeune.Cettefilleserataperte…”Sheistoobeautiful.Toosmart.Buttooyoung.Thisgirlwillbeyourundoing
Whoosh.Whoosh.
“Whathappenedtoyourparents?”
Cecelia’squestionduringthedrivebacktoKing’sreverberatesthroughthecabinofmyCamaroasIexit,leavingherinthepassengerseat.FeelingherheavygazefollowingmeasIstalkaway,Idon’tbothertoacknowledgeSean,whostandsshroudedinthedarkjustoutsidethebay.HisowncalculatingstareaddingweighttohersasImakeabeelineformytoolboxwhilemyheartbeatthundersinmyears.
Whoosh.Whoosh.
Grabbingmytoolboxfromthegarage,IpressthroughthebackdoorheadingthroughourlitteredgraveyardofforgottencarstowardtheBuick.
Whoosh.Whoosh.
There’salwaysbeenanundertow-likegripinCecelia’sgaze.AgripanddragI’vesuccessfullymanagedtododge—untiltonight—whensheglancedupatmefromwhereshekneltatanotherunknownenemy’sfeet,herempathyandhumanityonfulldisplay.
Whoosh.Whoosh.
Thatexchangewasabitchslap,forcingmetofinallyacknowledgeeverythingI’vebeenpurposefullyoverlookingwhenitcomestoCecelia.
ProppingthehoodoftheBuick,Iplugintheextensioncordattachedtotheshoplightbeforesiftingthroughmytools.Intentonlosingmyselfinmonotonouswork,ItossthemaroundasthosesecondsthreatentoburnintomemorywhilethegoddamnwhisperI’veheardmultipletimessnakesitswayin.
Sheknows.
Thefuckshedoes,butourearlierexchangesindicatedotherwiseasshepickeduponeveryunspokenwordbetweenus.
Sheundoubtedlyfeltmyannoyancewiththefastconclusionsshedrewduringourearliererrand.Notaminutelater—whilestowingawaymygun—temptationreareditsunwantedheadasmyfingersbrushedherskin,gatheringtherapidlybuildingelectricityasitpulsatedbetweenus.Ourlipssofuckingcloseitwouldtakelittletonoefforttoerasethedistanceandfinallygetataste.
Notlongafter—whilerollingthroughthedrugstorepickup—Cecelia’sjealousyemanatedfromthebackseat,jealousyshedidn’tbothertomaskasthepharmacisteyefuckedme.SheeventookpleasurewhenDelphineslunginsultstowardthegirl—asIdidwhenIbustedher,meetinghergazeintherearview.ThatpulsepingedandlingeredthroughtheCamaro,evenwhileDelphinerodepassenger.
SidesteppingthoseurgeswasbecomingfirstnatureformeuntilthosefewsecondsofeyecontactinDelphine’slivingroom.ThefinalstrawwaswhenCeceliaproddedmewiththemillion-dollarquestiononthedrivebacktothegarage.TheanswertowhichwouldsolvealotofCecelia’smysteryregardingme.
“Whathappenedtoyourparents?”
Myinclinationwastoreplywithsomethingalongthelinesof,“yourfatherfoundoutaboutmyparents’planstoexposehim,sohestagedaplantexplosiontosilencethemwhilescaringthefuckoutofanyoneelsewithideasofattemptingthesame.”
Thatreplywassuppressedevenasitwasconstructedbecauseoftheconcerninhertone—forme
IcouldendthischaradenowifIwantedto.ButsomethingaboutthewayshespoketoRomanearliertodayhadmeconsideringSean’spleastotrytoseearoundtheguiltbyassociation.
WhatIdidn’texpectwasforittohappen.Butinthoseshortseconds,whatIsaw—felt—forcedthatdisconnect.
Forthefirsttime,Isawnothingbuther.
WhenwemetwithRB—asIassumed—she’dpassedjudgmentonusbothinminutes.Icalledheroutforit.
Intruth,Isetherup,thenblamedherforherignorancewhenshewasjustanothervictimofasystemdesignedtokeepusdiscriminatoryandindifferenttoeachother’scircumstances.
Thedifferenceis,IknowCecelia’scircumstances…andnowsheknowsmine—especiallyafterforcingherwayintomyformerchildhoodhomeandseeingtheconditionsinwhichIwasraised.Thesecondshesteppedin,Ifelttheunderstandingwashingthroughher.Justafter,hermisplaceddeterminationkickedintocareforyetanotherunforeseenadversary.
Delphine.
Delphine,whonevergotoverourparents’murderbutcouldneverputthevodkadownlongenoughtodoanythingaboutit.
ShewasalmosttooslowontheuptakewhenIintroducedCecelia,ifonlytoseehowDelphinewouldreact.WhenmyauntfinallygotonthepageandrealizedwhoCeceliawas,thedifferenceinpersonalityandtreatmentwasclosetoimperceptible…forthosewhodidn’tknowbetter.Idid,anditwasthedifferenceIsawthatshockedthefuckoutofme.
TherewasnomisinterpretingwhatwasinDelphine’sexpressionafterdecadesofalcohol-inducedtirades—guilt.ShewaslitteredwithitaftertheirlittleimpromptuBiblestudy.Butwhy?
WhyinthehellwouldawomanwhohatesRomanasmuch,ifnotmorethanmybrotherandI,harborguiltforanyonewithRoman’sbloodpumpingthroughtheirveins?
It’swhenCeceliaselflesslyattemptedtoquietmyaunt’sfearsthatmyworldfuckingtilted,andIrealizedI’mjustasguiltyofhavingmyownpreconceivednotions.
BelievingthatwhenitcomestoCecelia,evilisinheritedinsteadoftaught.Eveniftheformerispossible,she’suntouchedbyit,byhim,bychoice.She’srebukedherfatherinallthewaysthatmatter.
ItwasthenIglimpsedsomeoftheblankcanvasSean’sbeenbeggingmetosee.Unlikecountlessothers,Cecelia’sanxioustounderstandtheworldaroundher—andthepeopleinit.Thewhyofitall.
Shemightbeonsomemissiontoplaywithfireandstickittoherfather,butit’sherownrebellionagainstthehandsheherselfwaspersonallydealtthatfuelsher.Inthat,we’realike.
Inthat,she’slikeus.
Ensnaredbyherinthatshorttime,realizationstruck—CeceliaHornerisfilledtothefuckingbrimwithuntappedpotential.
There’sasortofpowerbrewingwithinherthatnotevensheisawareof.
That’swhatIsaw,felt,andrangthroughmewithabsolutecertainty.
Notherage,beauty,orourundeniablechemistry,oreventhedangershepresentstous.Therealizationwassovisceralthatithadthehairsonmyneckrising.NowthatI’veseenit,itcan’tbedenied.
Tossingmywrenchintomytoolbox,IstepbackandstareupatthenightskyasDelphine’spredictionringsclear“Sheistoobeautiful.Toosmart.Buttooyoung.Thisgirlwillbeyourundoing.”
AwarningthathadmespeedingCeceliastraightbackintothesafetyofSean’sarms.
Whoosh.Whoosh.
Thewindkicksup,thebreezerollingthroughthejunkyardasthunderrumblesinthedistance.Areminderthatatsomepointinthefuture,agiantiscomingtodoleoutretributiontothoseignorantofitsexistence.
AgiantthatexistsbecauseItookpartinitscreation,andwitheachdaythatpasses,itdrawsnear.Dreadcloaksmewiththeknowledgethatwhenitfinallyarrives,itwillbejustasblindandunforgivingasI’vebeen,andnoneofuswillbeabletostopit.Pullinguptothegarageaftermanagingafewagitatedhoursofsleep,IjoinJeremy,Peter,andTyleratthehigh-toptabletuckedinthecornerofthecommercialbay.Russellapproaches,wipinghishandsonashoptowel,glancingbackatthebustlinglobby.Justinside,apreschoolerpresseshisfaceagainsttheglassdoorasRussellspeaksup.“Ihavefiveminutes,topsbeforeMrs.GeorgestartsdemandingtoknowwhenI’llbedone.”
Tylerdivesin.“Allphonesinthesafe?”
Jeremynods,notbotheringwithanyofhisusualantics.“So,wefinallytalkingaboutthegun—”
“Justdiscussingstrategyforourupcomingballgame,”Ijerkmyheadtowardacustomerexitinganearbycar,“nowthatweknowwhotheplayersare.”
JeremyglancesbackandwincesasTylerleansin,speakinglow.“So,here’swhatweknow.Spencer’scompany—likemostmajorshippingcompanies—isfreightforward.Meaning,whenarequisition—oraballorder—comesinfromanyforeigncountry,aUSmilitaryspecialistassignstheordertoafreightforwardcompanyforfulfillment.Processingtheballsfromthatpointtogainauthorityfromtheorderingcountrytoseeitthroughuntiltheballsarereceivedandaccountedfor.”
Russellleansinonawhisper.“Itgoesthatfar?We’retalkingdirtymilitaryandcorruptforeigngovernmentofficials?”
“Yeah,itdoes,”Tylersupplieswhilescanningtheparkinglot.“Andconsideringhowraretheseballsare,Iknewexactlywheretodig.”
Petergapesatus,“Jesus,whoknewSpencerwascapableofsomethinglikethis.”
Tyler’sexpressionhardens.“It’sclearbythewaytheyirresponsiblyguardtheballsinthatshitshackthatthey’vebeengettingawaywiththisforsometime.Spencer’spartiseasy,whichmakesthecaseofhisinvolvementopenandshut.Hishandscouldn’tberedder.Thespecialisthandlingtheorderisjustascompromisedasthebuyerbecausethereissomeseriousprotocolwhenitcomestoballsales.”
Russellaudiblystartspiecingittogether.“Ireadastorytheotherdaythatballsthatweresupposedtobeonamilitarybasewereusedinastreetrobbery…fuck…sothismeansthatSpencerandthespecialistworkwiththedirtyforeignofficialundertheguisethey’reorderingballsfortheirownmilitary,receivesthem,andthenfalsifiestheball’slocationonaforeignbaseintheircountrybeforeshippingthembacktoUSsoiltoselltoGodknowswho?”
Tylerdipshischin.“That’sthesumofit.Solvesalittleofthemysteryofhowsomewhoshouldnevergettheirhandsonthesetypesofweaponsacquirethem.Thoughrare,thisisoneofthoseways,andit’stheactionofthesegreedyfuckssellingouttheirstarsandstripes,disgracingtherestofusinuniform.So,whenthistypeofshitisdiscoveredbythoseservingwithgoodintentions,it’sabigfuckingdeal.”
RussellglancesoveratTyler.“Whichmakesthispersonalforyou.”
“Goddamnrightitdoes,”Tylersnaps.“WhichiswhyI’vetrackedwhorequestedtheballsandwhatspecialistherethey’reworkingwith.I’mguaranteeingallinvolvedaregettingashareofthesalesconsideringeachofthebigballsinourparkareworthtwentytothirtygrandeach.”
Peters’money-hungryeyesbulge.“Jesus.That’s—”
“Morethanwhat’sinyourpiggybank,andthatbalanceisn’tchanginganytimesoon,”Isnap,cuttingoffanyillusionshemighthaveaboutprofiting.
Mrs.Georgechoosesthatmomenttopokeherheadintothegarage.“Russell,I’vegottobeatmyhairappointmentbynine!”
Russellgroans,mutteringalow“toldyou,”beforeamplifyinghisreplytoher.“I’llhaveyououtofhereinfifteen,Mrs.George.”
Mrs.GeorgeleavesuswithawitheringstarebeforeretreatingintothelobbyasIpickbackup.“Morecratesweredeliveredtothewarehouselastnight,andwestilldon’tknowwho’scomingforthemandwhen,sotheclockisticking.”
“Timingiseverythinghere,”Tylertossesin.
“Alwaysis,”Itossback,“butbeforewemakeamove,weneedtogetthebulkoftheballsintoourpossessionbecausewedon’twantthekidsbuyingthemandplayingwiththeminthestreets.”
“Rightnow,”Tyleradds,“fromtheirperspective,everythinglooksuntouched.Thisgivesusaclosingwindowtogetwhatweneed,soit’sallhands-ondeck,becauseoncewegothere…”Tylergivesuseachapointedlook,“…there’snogoingback.”
Russelllooksbetweenallofus,hisfacepalingashegatherstheenormityofthesituation.“Butifwedrawthewrongattentionandourplanbackfires—”
“We’llsummontheperfectstorm,”Tylerfinishes.“We’retalkingamajorityofthebigplayers,includingtheFBI,ATF,andthemilitaryitselfsniffinginourbackyard.”
“So,it’sagoodthingwe’vegotfeatheredfriendsinhighplaces,”Iadd.
Atensebeatofsilencepassesasthestakessetin.Noneofusexpectedtodealwithsomethingsohigh-riskthisearly.
Peterspeaksup.“So,whatistheplan?”
Glancingaround,Imakeaquickdecisionandwalkovertothetoolshelf,snatchingthreeSolocupsfromasleevealongwithahandfulofwashersfromacoffeetin.Takingasideofthehightopawayfromtherestofthem,Ilinethecupsuponthetableandliftasinglewasher.Usingmysleightofhand,Iplaceitbeneathacupbeforescramblingthem.Thewashernoisilydragsonthetable,alleyesonthecupsuntilIstopandliftmygazetoJeremyforhisguess.
Jeremysighsandpointstowhathe’ssureistheobviouscup,andIliftit.Empty.HiseyeswideninsurpriseasIslowlystarttore-scramble.
Russellgroansinprotest.“HeyDom,youareawarewehavealobbyfullofpeople,right?Noneedforavisualdemonstrationtogetyourpointacross.Contrarytowhatyoumightthink,Jeremyistheonlyidiothere.”
Jeremygapesathim.“Thatreallyhurt.”
Peterspeaksup.“Dom,wegetit.We’regoingtouseillusiontogetthejobdone.It’schild’splay.YougoingtosingusRingAroundtheRosietoo?”
Ipausemymovements.“Haveyoueverexaminedthelyricstothatsadisticfuckingnurseryrhyme?”Iresumemyversionoftheshellshuffle.“RingaroundtheRosie,”Irelay,“referstotherashassociatedwiththeplague.Posywasabouquetusedtomaskthesmellofdecayingflesh.”
“Ashes,ashes,weallfalldown,”Peterraspsoutthoughtfully,“damn,thatissomesickshit.”
“Seehowthatworks?”Idrawout.“Everyoneatthistableprobablyknowsthewords.”Theynodinconfirmation.“That’sthecruxofourlackofcriticalthinking.Thatsickrhymeandcountlessothershavebeenpasseddownforgenerationsbecausewe’vebeencarelessastowhatweteachoneanother.”IeyePeter.“Betyou’llthinktwicebeforeyousingthatlullabytoyourbabysister.”
Istopmyshuffle.“Andwhenyouhaveaspareminute,GoogletheoriginofJackandJillandsomeoftheothers,andyou’llsoonfindourMotherGoosewasinfavorofMunchausen.”
Russellmakeshisguessandweighsin.“So,Igatherwe’regoingtohavethemallscramblingtofindtheballs?”
“No,brother,”Tylersays,adevioussmilelightinghisfaceasIswipethecupsofftheemptytableandTylerextendsaclosedhandoverit,slowlyliftinghisfingerstorevealapalmfullofwashers.“We’regoingtoeliminatethegame.”
StalkingbacktomyCamarowhenMrs.Georgepokesherheadoutagain,IleaveTylertolayoutourstrategyofframingSpencerandhisaccompliceswithoutdrawingattentiontotheclub.Retrievingmyphonefromtheglovebox,IpoweritontoseeawaitingtextfromSean.
Sean:Meetmeatthelake,bringtheusual.
Gotshittodo.
Thebubblesimmediatelystart.
Sean:Yeah,youdo,butyou’retakingthedayoff.“Encore,Maman!”Again,Mama.
“Patience.”Shetossesmypajamasonthebednexttome.“Armsup.”
“Encore,Maman!”Again,Mama,Iyelllouder,liftingmyarms.
“Suchademandinglittlelark,”shesays,pullingmyshirtdownbeforepinchingmynose.“Countwithme.”
“Un,deux,trois,”Onetwothree,werecitetogetherbeforeshebeginstosing.“Alouette,gentillealouette.”Lark,gentilelark!“Alouette,jeteplumerai.”Lark,Iwillpullyourfeathers!“Yousingtoo,gentilelark.”
“Jeteplumerailatête.”Iwillpluckyourfeathersoffyourhead,Isingasshebeginstotickleme.
“Jeteplumerailatête.”Iwillpluckyourfeathersoffyourhead,shesingsback.
“Etlatête,”offyourhead,shesingshigh.
“Etlatête,”offyourhead,Idropmychinandsinglow.
“Alouette,”Lark!Shesings.
“Alouette,”Lark!Isingback.
Shepresseshernosetomine,oureyesgettingbiggeraswesingtogether.“O-o-o-oh!”
Shepushesmebackonthebed,hairticklingmybellyasshekissesit,andItrytowiggleaway.
“Encore,Maman,”Iyellasshechasesmyfootwithmypajamapants.
“Etlebec,”offyourbeak.Shepinchesmylips.
“Etlatête,”offyourhead.Sheplucksmyhair.
“Alouette!”Lark!
Shestops,yawning.
“Maman,”Iyell.“Youdidnotsingitall!”
“Wecansingagaintomorrow.”
Butwedidn’t.Wedidn’tsing.
Wenevergottosingagain.
“Maman,”Iwhisper,speedingawayfromthelake,chestburningastreesblurinmyperipheral.Ironystrikesmethatmerehoursago,IchastisedmyinkedbrotherfortakingstockinanurseryrhymewhileIreplaytheoneI’mmostfamiliarwith—asubconsciouspunishment.
Atonementdemandedbymypsychetore-liveoneofthehandfulofvividmemoriesIhavewithmymother.
Oneofmylast,whenmamandeclaredmehergentlelittlebird.
Whatwouldshethinkofmenow?
WhatwouldshethinkofthefactthatI’vebecomeadifferentbirdentirely?
Abirdofprey.
Abirdfueledbyretribution.
Acunningbirdcapableofactssovile,thatboyisalmostunrecognizabletomenow—aliar,athief,amasterofdeception.
Abirdcapableoftakingpartindestroyinganinnocentgirlinthenameofvengeance.
Butwhattranspiredonthatlakefloatdidn’tfeellikethat.Atall.
Itfeltliketheoppositeofthat.
“Dominic.”
Cecelia’smoansskitterdownmyspineashercoconut-scentedoilseepsfurtherintomyskin.Mycockstirsatthememoryofheraboveme—andbeneathme
Thelust-filledtidalwavethatcrashedintomebywayofadeepbluestare
Herpartedlips—andthesoundscomingoutofthem.
Alongpullofherpebblednippleinmymouth.
Thefeelofherflawlessskinbetweenmybruisingfingertips.
Hervelvettonguethrashingagainstmine.
Herendlesslylonglegscradlingmeasshesankdownontomebeforeweclickedintoplace,thefitfuckingsurreal
Today’sforecastdidnotcallfor—orinanywaypredict—mefuckingCeceliaHorner.
Butitdidn’tfeellikefucking.Whatthatfeltlikewas…otherworldly.
Thesnaphappenedsoabruptlythatthestaticthatalwaysaccompanieduscaughtfuckingfireasthenoisestopped.IsuccumbedsoquicklythatImademyownwillalaughingstockbutwasrewardedinawaythatIexperiencedeverysinglemoment.Withjustakiss,thisbirdtotallyfellunderthespelloftheshiny,spinningthing.
Inofferinghermyfuse,sheignitedme.
Fireandwater,she’sbothburnandsoothe.
ThehazeI’vebeenimmersedinliftedsofast.ItwasasifIhadrousedfromadeepsleeponlytoopenmyeyesandseetheworldthroughamagnifyingglass.
Allofmysensesbecamemoreacuteassensationandsoundoverwhelmedme—thelakewavesbreakingagainstthefloat,thesharpintakesandexhalesofbreath,thefeelofmyheartbeat,theelectricitythatflowedatmyfingertips,thethunderouswarningthatrumbledthroughthesky.Though,IbatawayanyforebodingfeelingsinducedbyanyidioticfairytaleIconjuredasshesweptmeintoafuckingfantasy.IwantedhersogoddamnedmuchthatIwouldhavedefiedanythingoranyonewhotriedtoseparateus.
“Dominic.”
ForthefirsttimesincethenightmareI’dexistedinforweeksbegan,IfeltlikeI’dsurfacedfrombeingunderwaterandtookamuch-neededbreath.AbreathofrealizationthatIamaliving,breathingman.Amanstarved,duetoself-deprivation,indireneedofthewomanspreadinfrontofme.
ItookthebreathallowingeverythingIfelttoringtrue,inthewayItouchedher,voicingthefewwordsthatcametome,myguardabsent.
NolongerfeelinglikeIwaswatchingjustoutsidemyownlifebutparticipatinginit.Iwascapableoftasteagainandsavoredhers.Touchturnedintoworship.Witheverydeepthrustinsideher,theburdensweighingmedownwereforgotten.
Somethingsonaturalandstraightforwardformost…butsocomplicatedforme.
Iffuckingwasallwehaddone,I’dalreadybehome,findinganotherwaytofillmytime—butitwasn’t.Itotallylostmyselfinher,andeverysecondofitonlyrampeduptheonebefore.
Fullyhardfromtherecollection,IspeedforwardintheoppositedirectionofthesunasIattempttoraceawayfromthefactthatthebestI’veeverfuckingfeltinthewholeofmyexistencewaswhenIwasmovinginsideCeceliaHorner.
Speedingpastanyroutehome—knowingIcan’tbeanywherenearwheresheis—IpoureveryeffortIhaveintoputtingthoseminutes,thatstolentime,intoitsrespectivebox.
CeceliaandIarepracticallystrangers.Butthatinterludesaidotherwise,justasthewhisperinformedmethesecondIlaideyesonherandeverytimesince.Thelastpartofsaidwhisper,IrefusedanddeniedevenafterIsawherforthefirsttimewithoutthegrudgeinmyeyes.
Sheknows.
Sheknowsyou
Tighteningmyhandsaroundthewheel,Icursewhateverfatebroughtherintomylifebecausefinallyallowingittohappen,wantingittohappen,andinparticipatinginit,IlostthemostimportantbattleIhadyettofight.
GoddamnSean.
Goddamnthemboth.
“Goddamnyou,”IgruntastheclaritythreatenstodispersewhiletheweightofthesecretIjusttookpartinbeginstotakeitstoll.Chestthumping,IlicktheremnantsofthekissIleftherwith—akissthatlingeredwithapromiseI’llneverbeabletoseethrough.
Afreshwaveofculpabilitycrashesintomeasanothervividmemorysurfaces.Myeyesfixedonabuzzingtattoogunbeforeliftingtomeethiswherehehoversafootaway—hisexpressionamixofprideandobviousaffection.PrideandaffectionImayneverseeagainbecauseinfindingthatbliss—andmomentarypeacewithCecelia—Imighthavelostmyforeverconstant.
Mybrother.
Turningintotheheavilyconcealeddriveway,Ispeedpastendlessacresoflandandparkatthefootofhisporch.Takingthewidestepsuptotheancientfarmhouse,thedooropensjustasIliftmyknucklestoknock.Denny’seyesrollovermeinamixofcuriosityandconcernforasecondbeforehedipshischinandwidensthedoorenoughformetostepthrough.IpalmmycellphoneagainsthischestasIpass.Hetakesit,myintentforbeingheremadeclearasImakemywaythroughthehouse,retreatingintohisguestbedroom.WithinsecondsI’mstrippedbare,everymuscleinmybodyshuttingdownwithfatigue,mymother’svoiceringingthroughasIcollapseontothemattress.
“Ilesttempsdedormir,PetitPrince.”
It’stimetosleep,LittlePrince.Myrewardforfuckingmynemesis’sdaughter?
Eighteenstraighthoursofcomatosesleep.
Sleepmybodyfinallyallowedmeaftertemporarilyforgettingmyinkandpossiblyfuckingawaymybrother’strust.TheCecelia-inducedhazeIwasunderdissipatedthesecondmyeyespoppedopenatnightfallthenextday.AfterspendingthebetterpartoflastnightintothismorningexploringDenny’sendlessacresofcultivatedfarmland,mydeterminationkickedintorectifythesituation.
FeelingI’vesummonedwhatIneedduetomyliteralpre-dick-ament,IstepthroughthefrontdoorfindingDennyinthekitchen.Spottingme,hewordlesslypoursacupofsteamingbrewbeforeholdingitoutinoffering.
Takingasip,Ithankhim,andhereplieswithagruntbeforesprayinghiscounterwithalabel-freebottletowipeitdown.Nodoubttheconcoctionishisownmix.
Whatsomanydon’tknowaboutDenny—whoalwayspassesinthesharingcircle—isthathe’sourmostresourcefulbird.Hemadeithismissiontoutilizethefarmlandheboughtoutrightandmastereditinawaythatwouldputalldoomsdayerstoshame.Whetherchemistorcarpenter,hefillswhateverrolenecessarytoself-sustainwithouthelpfromtheoutsideworld.Forthat,hehasmyadmiration.We’realikeinthefactthathebothcravesandthrivesinisolationwhileworkingovertimetoexerciserestlessenergy.Glancingoutsidehisfloor-to-ceilingwindowsatthebloominggroundsofhispersonalcompound,it’sapparenthe’sasrestlessasever.
Ofallourbirds,Dennyisamongstmymosttrusted,nexttohisfiancé.Laylawasbroughtinearlyonbyanotherbird,Craig,whobecameafastliabilityaftergettinginkedandtookpleasureintreatingLaylalikeshit.HistiradeendedamereweekafterDennywasbroughtintotheflockandlaideyesonLayla,choosingherashisfirstbigheist
WhetherCraig’sdeathwasbyDenny’sdesignremainsunknown,andwedecidedthatifthatwasthecase,itwashissecrettokeepbecauseifso,Dennydidusallaservice.AndlikeLayla,Denny’samasteratguardingsecretswithaheavingsidehelpingofnotaskingbeforecarryingordersouttotheletter.IfIcould,I’dreplicatehim.“Andwherehasyourladybirdflownoffto?”
Dennyshrugs.“Figuredyoudidn’twantheraskingquestions,soItaskedherwithanerrandtogiveyouachancetomakeacleangetaway.”
“Youreallydospeakmylovelanguage,bro,”Itipmycuptowardhiminsalute.
Grinning,hepullsopenadrawerproducingmyburner.
“AnythinghappenwhileIwasout?”Iask,takingit.
“Yeah,wegotwhatweneeded,”heconfirms.
Inod.PleasedbythefactthattheyusedmybriefsabbaticaltosuccessfullyliftprintsfromSpencer’saccomplices.ItbringsusastepclosertomarchingSpencertowardtheguillotine.“I’mgoingtotakeoff.”
Iwalkmycupovertothesinkandrinseit,soakingintheviewofhispondandthesurroundinggrounds.“Whatyou’vedonewiththeplace,man,it’sincredible.Arecluse’sdream.”
“Itis,thanks,”hesayswithapride-filledgrin.
“Appreciateyou,man.Thanksforthehospitality.”
“Anytime,”heoffers,walkingmetothedoor.
“Youhatecompany,”Ichuckle.
“Notthequietkind,”hislipsliftbeforeItakethestairsofhisporch,pullingmykeysfrommyjeans.Hecallsafterme,stoppingmeatmydriver’sdoor.“Yougood,Dom?”
“Almostmadeacleangetaway,”Ijest.
“Ionlygiveafuckbecauseofthestateyouwereinwhenyougothere.”
“It’snothingIcan’thandle.Seeyoutonight.”
“Seeyou,”hesaysbeforeshuttingthedoor,nodoubtrelievedIdidn’twanttotalkfeelings.
Pullinguptothetownhouseafewhourslater,IparknexttoSean’sNovaandgatherthebagslitteringmypassengerseat.JustasIhitthetopofthestairs,Sean’sbedroomdooropens.Flippingonmybedroomlight,Iplacemyburneronthemagneticstripthatblocksalldigitalsignalsbeforedumpingthebag’scontentsonmybed.
Asecondlater,Seanfillsmydoorway,assessingmeasIstarttolinemyemptyshelf.“What’sgood,brother?”
“NotalotsincebothmygirlandbestfriendwentAWOL.”
“Well,youknowme.Ifyou’vegotapersonalproblem…it’sbesttokeepittoyourself.”
Hechuckles,saunteringintotheroom.“You’resuchadick.”
“Yet,likealltheothers,youkeepcomingbackformore,”Ideadpan.
IcontinuetoloadmyshelvesasSeanclearshisthroat.“’Heslippedhisshortsdownenoughsohisreadycocksprangfree,’”herecites,openpaperbackinhand.“’Hewassohard,pre-cumdrippedfromthetip.Hetookitinhishandandpumpedafewtimes.’Iseewe’reexpandingoursummerreadingrepertoire,”hemuses,tiltingthebookmyway.
“Theromancegenrealonegrossesoverabillionayear,”Icounter,“whichiscurrentlymorethanourcollectivenetworth.”Gatheringmorebooks,IturntostockthemandpausewhenIglimpsethehardbacksittingontheshelfabove.
“Clearlythey’recashinginonyou,”SeanquipsasIbrushmyfingerdowntheseverelycrackedspineofmymother’scopyofLePetitPrince.Avisionofhershuttersin,nestledinherfavoritetatteredchair,theopenbookrestingonthearmofitasthesunstreamsthroughthewindowbehindher.Thistime,I’mthankfulforthememorywithouttheaccompanyingguilt.
“Ormaybeyou’retheoneplanningoncashingin,”heraspsthoughtfully,sortingthroughthebooks.Glancingback,Iseehisbrowspullinconfusion.“Whatisthis,Dom?”Hiseyesnarrow.“Whatthefuckareyoudoing?”
“Whateverittakes,”Irelayforasecondtime.
Hismoodshiftsinstantly.“So,youdisappearfortwofuckingdaysandcomebackwithaplan…towhat?Hurther?”
“’Theinkwillalwayswin,’”Irecitebacktohim.
“Itoldyou,allin,Dom,andIfuckingmeantit.”
“Youseemtoforgetyoudon’tmakethecalls.”
“Youmadethiscall,andifIcanlureheroutofhiding,I’minvitinghertotheMeetuptonight.”
Idipmychin.“I’lldriveherin.”
“Toprotecther.”Bothstatementandquestion.
“Sure.”
“Goddamnit,”herunshishandthroughhishair,“ifyou’replanningonhurtingher—”
“Maybeyouconvenientlyforgot,butitwasyourplantousehertogettoRoman.”
“Iwon’tletyouintentionallyfuckwithher,”hegrowls.
“Thewayyouhaveme?”
Heswallows,eyesdroppingasIturnbacktotheshelves.
“We’regoingtoendherfather,Sean.There’snofutureforyouandCecelia.Makepeacewithit.”
“Igetthat,but—”
“YoufuckingneedtobecauseFranceiseventuallygoingtofindwhathe’slookingfor,andwhenhedoes,it’sonlyamatteroftime.Oncethathappens,youcan’tprotecther.”
“Andyouwon’t?”
Annoyed,Ipushpasthimtograbashower,andhegripsmybiceptostopme.Jerkingaway,Iglareathim.“Inamatterofhours—byyourdesign—she’sgoingtoknowdamnneareverythingandwillmostlikelyrunanyway.So,thisconversationispointless.Areyoupreparedforthat?Becausethat’stheriskyou’retakingbaptizingherbyfire.”
Hehookshisthumbsintohisjeanspocket.“It’sthewaywe’vealwaysdoneitwhenarecruitisready.She’searnedmytrustandtherighttoknowwhoweare.”
“Butshenevertrulywill,willshe?Evenafteryoustomponherrose-coloredglasses.”Steppingtowardmybathroom,Ifistoffmyshirt.“I’mdonedebatingthis.Completelyfuckingdonearguingabouther.Itwasamistaketobringheranywherenearus.”
“That’syourfeartalking,”hedigsin.
“No,it’syours,”Isnap,“weneedtofocus.”
Seanbiteshispiercingbeforeturningtostalkout.
“Youwererightabouther,”Icallafterhim,kickingoffmyboots,“I’llgiveyouthatmuch.Iseeherpotential,justnotforourclub.”
Herunsahandthroughhishairashelingersjustinsidemydoor.“Alignyourselftoanyagendayouwantwhenitcomestoher,butIwasfuckingthere,andIfeltthatshithappenbetweenyou.”Heshakeshishead,refutingmystance.“Youwon’thurther.Notintentionally.”
“YouhavenofuckingideawhatI’mcapableof,”Igritoutasheleersatme.
“Yeah,well.Apparently,neitherdoyou,asshole,”hecounters,stalkingout,hispartingwordsfilteringinfromthehall.“Butluckyforyou,Ido.”FifteenminutesaftersendinganotherfraudulentprogressreportregardingRoman’sdaughterintotheether,IpulluptoKing’s,dreadingthehoursahead.KarmahasagoodlaughatmyexpensewhenmyheadlightsbeamdirectlyonCeceliaasIrolltoastop.Eyesfixatedonthewomanwhohasbeenoccupyingmywakingthoughtsthelastfewdays,Irevmyengineinsignal.Silhouettesofthebirdssurroundingherscatter,headingtowardtheircars.Thesightofherfeetfrommyhood—dressedtomurdermyreinforcedresolve—sendshumming,rapidlyheatingbloodstraighttomycock.Mythirstyeyesdrinkherinthroughthewindshieldwhereshestandsmotionless,justasabsorbedbyme,whilesomeofmycrumblingresignationstartstoscatterfrommelikewindsweptash.
Fuck.
Ifthisiswhatinfatuationfeelslike,it’smeantforlunatics.
IcanalreadysensethescrewslooseningthemselvesfromthehingesofthedoorIsworeImentallyslammedshut.
Hatingthepartsofmeresponsibleforthehastybetrayal—andSeanforknowingbetterashestepsuptoher—myresignationisfurthercompromisedwhenhereyeslightwithSean’srequestthatsherideswithme.
Afterabriefbackandforth,SeancatchesmygazeforabeatbeforeheadingtowardhisNova,histrustinmeunwavering.
IdecidetohatehimforaslongasIcanforhisunshakablefaithinme—alongwithsharinghiscurrentobsession—whilefirmlystickingtothebeliefthatlabelsareforweak-minded,insecuremen.Thatawoman’saffectionandloyaltyshouldbefreelygiven,neverdemanded.Inasense,he’sright.Inanother,he’sagoddamnfool.AsallergicasIamtothefeelingcircus,evenIknowwomencravesomeshowofpossessiveness,evenifIagreetheyshouldbegiventhechoice.
Bassthrummingintimewithmyheartbeat,Ceceliaapproaches,andIleanoverandpushopenmypassengerdoor.Thenightbreezesweepsherscentthroughmyinteriorasshebucklesin.
Nostrilsflaring,Itightenmygriponthewheel,furiouswithmyinabilitytoignorethepull.Icutoffherattempttogreetmebytearingoutoftheparkinglot.HermusicallaughterringsthroughthecabinasIracetowardtheMeetup.Feelingeverysecondoftheattraction-inducedchemicalhigh,myearlierwarningtoSeanreverberates,strikingmedifferently.Withinthespanofanhour,herperceptionofmewillbealtered—ifnotchangedaltogether.JustasIthinkit,sheturnsdowntheradioinsearchofsometruth.
“Areweevergoingtohavearealconversation?”
Notpossible.
“Wehadonenottoolongago,”Iremindher.
“That’snotwhatImean.”
“Wanttostartwithpoliticsorreligion,”Imuse,becausewhatinthehellcouldIpossiblytellherthatringssincere?Optingtogivehersomehalf-bakedtruth,Irelaytheidealexistenceofatwenty-five-year-oldmechanic.ThemanImight’vebeenifIwasn’tonthebrinkofwagingwaronmonsters—oneofthemherfather.Briefly,Iimagineadayoflifewithouttheclub,adayfilledwithsimplepleasures.
“Eggs—runny,coffee—black,beer—cold,music—loud,cars,”Ifloorthegas.Shelaughsouttherest.“Fast.”
“Woman,”Itrailmyeyesdownherframeandfeelhersoftennexttomeduetothesentiment.Whenshemovestogripthehandrestingonmygearshift,Ipullitoutofreach.“IsavethatforwhenIcandosomethingaboutit.”
“Andyouthinkthat’saffection?”
“Isn’tit?”
Apregnantpauseassherealizesintimacyisnotinmywheelhouse.
“Whatmakesyouhappy?”
“Alloftheabove.”
“Runnyeggsandcoffeemakeyouhappy?”Sheprompts,callingbullshit.
Ifonlymylifewerethatfuckingsimple.“Whatifyouwokeuptomorrowandtherewasnocoffee?”
Shefrowns.“Thatwouldbetragic.”
“Nexttimeyoudrinkit,pretendit’sthelasttimeyoucanhaveit.”
“Great,therearetwoofyou.Isthatsomephilosophy?Okay,Plato.”
Mylipslift.“Youcandiscovermoreaboutapersoninanhourofplaythanyoucaninayearofconversation.”
Sensingthefamiliarheavinessonmyprofile,Iglanceover.“Iwasraisedtoappreciatethesmallshit.”Theunderstandinginherexpressiononlyhasmyneedrampinguptogetcloser.
BecauseIdowanther,buttherealityIexistinmakesthatanimpossibility.Thecurrentcontinuestothrumbetweenusasknowledgebattersmethatoncewereachtheendofthisdrive,boththeblissandtemporarypeaceI’vefoundwithher—inher—willmostlikelybesnatchedfrommygrasp.Makingarashdecision,Iturnontoadeadendthatleadstoasmallclearing.Killingtheengine,I’mstruckstupidbythesightofherstaringwistfullythroughthewindshieldupatthehalf-moon.Herlitprofilehasmyfingersitchingtorunthroughherflame.Leaningoverwitha,“comehere,”Igripherhipsandpullhertostraddlemylap.Sinkinginmyseat,shesurroundsmewhileIimmersemyselfinthetemporaryhigh,flexingmyfingersthroughhersilkyhair.Lipspaintedred,andeyesshroudedinblack,shestaresbackatme,temptationpersonified.
Whenshedips,ittakessomeefforttodenyherkiss,butIdo,knowingIdon’thavetheluxuryoftimetolosemyself.Asshepullsaway,herbeautifulfeaturestwistinconfusion.I’mjustasconfoundedastowhyIspenttwodaysconvincingmyselfthatallowingourpulltoovertakemetotheextentitdidatthelakewasaone-timehigh.
“Helikesthered,”Iofferinshitexcuse,whichservesasaremindertousboth.Guiltmarsherfaceatthatreminder,andit’sthenIknowshe’sfightingherownbattle—awarwithinstilledmorality.Hernextquestionprovesasmuch.“Howlonghaveyouknowneachother?”
Theuneasinessemanatingfromherhasmerunningmypalmsupherbackasmytraitorouscockstartstoharden,givingabsolutelynofucksaboutmystancewhereshe’sconcerned.“Mostofourlives.”
“Thatclose?”Sheasks,rockingatopthebulgegrowingbeneathher,gaugingtheheatedwarninginmyeyes.
“We’reallclose.”
“Apparentlyso.”
Therumbleofapproachingenginescutthroughthenightnoise,servingasareminderthatI’monborrowedtime.Ceceliaglancesovermyshoulderastheyflyby.“They’releavingus.”
“Weleftthem,”Icorrect,mypalmshasteningupanddownthematerialcoveringherback.
“Andweleftthembecause?”
“Because,”Ilifttokissher—becauseIfuckingwantto—andstopmyselfjustbeforeimpact.Eyesclosedinwait,herfast,anticipatoryexhaleshitmylipsasallrepliesdieonmytongue.
Becauseinminutes,you’llbefullyawareofthelevelofdeceptionwe’recapableof,andyourmoraldilemmaaboutbeingsharedwillbeanon-issue.
Becauseonceyoudoknow,you’lldistanceyourselffarbeyondeitherofourreach.
Slinkingbackintomyseat,sheopenshereyestofindmesmirkinginsatisfaction.Shewantsmejustasmuch.
“You’reanasshole.”
Andyou’rethemostbeautifulpunishmentI’veeverbeendealt.
“That’snotnews.Anythingelseyouneedtoknow?”
“Idon’tknowanything.”
“Sureyoudo,”Ithrustup,soshecanfeeljusthowfuckingmuchI’mdenyingmyself.
KnowingIneedtostartarmoringupforwhat’sahead,IopttocontinueplayingwiththeelectricityatmyfingertipsbecauseI’mjustthatselfishmotherfucker.
Stealingtherestofherbreath,lgrindagainsttheheatIcanfeelseepingfromhercoreandamrewardedbyfastpantsasshesiftsthroughourconversation.
“Youdescribedmostred-bloodedmen.Coldbeer,ah,”shemoansasIcontinuallythrustup,andshestartstogivebackasgoodasshe’sgetting,swivelingherhips.
“Fastcars?”
Thrust.
“Blackcoffee?”
Thrust.
“Runnyeggsand…”
“And?”Iprompt,liftinghersoshe’ssuspendedonmyoutrageddick.
“Me,”shewhispershoarselybeforeflashingasmilethatservesasadirecthit.
“Thenyouknowenough.”
Givingmyselfaminutemore,IlifthershirtandgroaninwardlywhenI’mmetwiththesightofperfecttitsandpeakednipples.Everybitofremainingself-controlIhavethreatenstoabandonmewhenIdipandpullherhardenedfleshintomymouth.AsIgreedilyfeed,sheexplodesintomotion,grindingontomeasImomentarilylosemyself.IsoakinwhatIcanofherscent,thefeelofher,knowingitmightbemylasttaste.
It’swhenshemoansmynamethatImentallystarttoforcemyselfaway,bitingdownonherexposedfleshbeforesoothingawayanystingwiththetipofmytongue.
“Thatwascruel,”shescolds.
Mydickagrees,butatleastmyconsciencewon’teatatmelikeittriedtoafterthelake.IfIeverlayanotherhandonCeceliaHorner,atleastshe’llhaveabetterideaofwhomshe’sgettingintobedwith—evenifkeypartsofthetruthremainpurposefullytuckedaway.Seanwasrightinthesensethatshedeservestoknowwho’sfuckingher.Aftertonight,she’llbeawareofthetruenatureofthedevilsshe’sdancingwith,andafterthat,itwillbeherdecisiontostayonthefloor.
“We’llhavetopickthisup—later,”Isay,knowingitmightbethelastlieIevertellher—thatafterSeanpullsbackthecurtain,she’llmostlikelyrun.GlancingoverasIturnthekey,somethinginsidemestirsatthepossibilitythatshewon’t.
Visionmuddledbyblackrage,someonegripsmyhand,andIwhiparound,fistdrawntoseeCecelia’smortifiedgaze.Shakingherconcernoff,mywristthrobsasIofferheranotherlie.“I’mgood.”
I’manythingbutfuckinggood.
FuryandadrenalinecontinuetowarfordominanceasCeceliatakesacautiousstepawayfromme.HerexpressionistellingasSeansnakesaprotectivearmaroundher,pullingherintohimtoshieldher—fromme.“Lethimcooloff,baby.”
Notfuckinglikely.
Aspredicted,thelasthourhasbeenafuckingdisaster.FeelingCecelia’sterrifiedgazetrailme,Ibreakthroughthecoverofthetrees,fightingtheurgetoretrievemyGlockandendAndreandMatteo—nomatterwho’sleftintheaudience.I’mbendingmywristandflexingmytriggerfingerwhenTylerappears,eyeingmyinjury.“Broken?”
Ijerkmychininreply.“Andrenoshowed.”
“Iknow,”heexhales,glancingtowardtheroaringbonfire.“I’vebeentrackingthembothallnight.”
Andre—theheadoftheMiamichapter—missedthewindowforourone-on-one.Which,inourclub,isablatantsignofdisrespect.Meetupsaremoreaguiseforthedealsthattakeplacebetweenthetreesattheparty.AtimemeanttosetupthewhenandwheretotradestolengoodsofeachChapter’smostrecenttakes—alongwithintroducinganyrecruits.It’soneofthefewsecretsweshare.“They’renotevenhidingitanymore.Something’sup.”
“I’mprettysureyoumadeitclearyou’reontothem,”hesays,gesturingtowardmyhand.Knucklesstilldripping,IhavenoregretsaboutdisfiguringthefuckingbastardchargedwithdoingAndreandMatteo’sbidding.
We’vealwaysknownMatteoandAndrewerekillersforhire—psychopathswhotakepleasureintheirwork—whichweutilizedforourbenefituntilrecently
“I’llswitchcarsandfollowthembacktotheFloridastateline,”Tyleroffers,“andputsomebirdsonpatroltomakesuretheyallgetthefuckoutofourneighborhood.”
“That’sallfineandgood,man,butyou’renothearingme.Theytookoutanotherblack-marketcontractyesterday—nondiscriminatory.They’veswitchedtokillinginnocentsforahigherpaycheck.They’vebrokeneveryruleofourclubandarerubbingitinourfaceswiththeirpresencetonight,withanaddedplantoweakenus.”
“Howso?”
“IthinktheytriedtotakeSeanoutintherace.”
Hiseyeswiden.“The.Fuck?”Hetiltshisheadupasifsummoningpatience.“Beforeweact,Dom,youneedtobesure.”
Clearingsomeofthehaze,Ireplayitobjectively.Sean’scarroundingthecurveintheoutsidelane,onesidemountainrock,thousandsoffeetofdropontheother.Florida’sheadlightsdisappearingfrommyrearviewtorunalongsidemebeforegunningstraightforSean.WhenIrealizedhisintent,IgassedmyCamarojustintimetocuthimoff,forcinghimtowardTallahassee,whocrashedintotherockycliffjustafterweclearedtheturn.
“Positive.HeknewtheroadandhadtohavemappeditbeforetheMeetup.There’snootherfuckingwaytointerprethowitwentdown.IfMiamihadsomuchastappedeitherofSean’sbumpers,ourbrotherwouldnotbebreathingrightnow.Theyneedtobedealtwith—swiftly.”
Tyler’sexpressionhardensasheglancesaroundtoensurenonearbyearsareprivytoourconvo.“MakethecalltoFranceandtextmetheverdict.”
Ishakemyhead.“Youcan’tgoatthisalone.Wedon’tknowthenatureofthegamethey’replaying.”
“Don’tunderestimateme,”Tylersnaps,warninglethal.
“Ineverhave,brother.I’lltextyouhisdecisionbutkeepmeupdated.”
Eyesmurderous,Tylertakesoffinfullexecutionermode,andIknowifgrantedpermission,he’llseeitthrough—andmakeitpainful.
Clearingthetrees,IstalktowardmyCamaroandamstoppedbyabrunetteatmytrunk,hernailsrakingupmychest.Annoyed,ittakesafewsecondsformetorecognizeher.
“Hey,Dom,”Stephaniepurrs,reekingofwhiskyandcigarettes.“Beenawhile,andI’vegotasecret…I’vebeenthinkingalotaboutyou,”shedrawls.
“Funny,I’vebeenthinkingabouteverythingbutyou.”
“Don’tbeadick,”shepoutsbeforehittingherkneesandreachingformybelt.“Thistime,I’llletyoucomeinmymouth.”
“JesusChrist,Stephanie,”Ibatherhandsawaybeforeliftingherbytheunderarmstostand.“Thisisn’tagoodtime.”
“Youdidn’tminditlasttime,”sheslurs.
“Thatwaswhat?Two,threefuckingyearsago?”
“Ijustwantedtoplayaroundalittleandreminisce,”shestumblesinfrontofme,andIgripherelbowtostudyher.
“Ithinkit’stimewebothforgetyouhavenolipsandmovethefuckon.Gofindanotherbabysittertosuckoff.Idon’thavetimeforthisshit.”Usingmygriponherelbow,Igentlyguideheroutofmypath.
Shejerksherarmaway,stumblingintheprocess,“Fuckyou,Dom.”
“NotifIhadasparedick,Stephanie.Nowwouldbeagoodtimetorememberwhoyou’retalkingtoandtreadmorecarefully,”Iwarn.“IfIwereyou,Iwouldgetbacktothebirdyoucamewith.Thisdoesn’tlookgoodonhim.”
JustasIsayit,hernameisclippedoutafewyardsaway.HerheadsnapsinthatdirectionasItakeaseatbehindmywheelandpullmyburnerfrommygloveboxtoshootoffatext.
ROGUEBIRDS:Thiscan’twait.
MyburnerringsasecondlaterasStephanieisnotsogentlycartedoffbyherbird,andIcatchsightofSeanpullingoffwithCeceliaintowasTobiasspeaksup.“Talktome.”
“Miamiisfull-ondefecting,”Igetstraighttoit.“They’retakingblackmarketcontractsoninnocents,Andreturnedhisbackonmeattheparty,andtheyjusttriedtotakeSeanout.”
“Whatthefuck?”TheinstantchangeinhistoneletsmeknowIhavehisundividedattention.“How?”
“Duringarace.Theyweregoingtomakeitlooklikeanaccident.Idon’teventhinkSeanknowshowclosehecametodyingtonight.Istoppedthemrightbeforetheygothim.Itwasclose,brother,”Iraspout,aknotlodginginmythroat.“Toofuckingclose.”
“It’samobmove.”
“Exactlymylineofthought.”Whattranspiredtonightalignswiththemobmentalityoftakingoutthelieutenantbecauseitwouldbetooobviousiftheywentaftermefirst.
“Tellmeeverything,”heclipsout,thenoiseinhisbackgroundsilencedbytheclosingofadoor.
Irelayitallandendwithmyproposedsolution.“Tylerwantspermissionforturndownservice.”
“Denied.”
“TheytriedtotakeoutSean!”Iroar,mypatiencetappedout.“Thiscan’tgounpunished.”
Afewtensesecondstickbybeforehespeaksup.“YoudoknowthatMiamihasactualfuckingmobties?”
“Iknowwhothefucktheyare,buttheyneedareminderofwhoweare.”
“Whereareyounow?”Heclipsout.
“StillattheMeetup.Tyler’sgoingtofollowthemtothestateline.We’reputtingbirdsonpatroltomakesuretheydon’toverstaytheirwelcome,butsomethingneedstobedone,brother.Wecan’tletthisgo.”
“I’llputthemonpermanentwatchfornowuntilIcanhaveaface-to-facewithAndre.”
“Thetimeforpeacetalksisover.”
“Thisisn’tyourfuckingcall,”hesnaps.“Ifwetakethebait,webecomebaited.I’llhandleit.”
“Howdoyouproposetodothatacontinentaway,Frenchman?”
Silence.I’mpissinghimoff.Good.
“Ican’tbelieveyou’rewillingtoletthisgo.”
“That’snotwhatI’mdoing.Butwedon’tshootfirstandaskquestionslater.Theyknowtheinsandoutsofourfuckingclub,Dom,whichmakesthisadelicatesituation.Beforewemove,weneedtoatleasttrytocometosomesortofunderstanding.”
“Fine.Whatever,”Iturnmykey,andTobiashearsmestartupmycar.
“Whereareyougoing?”
BluelightsracebyjustasIstarttopullout,andIinstantlykillmyheadlightsbeforepullingbetweenthetrees.
“Dom?”
“Bluelights.Someonenon-clubmusthavereportedtherace.Holdup.”
JustasIgotocomposeatext,Iscansomemissedmessages.
R:BluelightsonKanugaRoad.
P:Alreadyfollowing.Sean’sleadinghimaway.
P:He’slosingthem.
Myshoulderssaginrelief.“They’reonSeanand—”Icatchmyselfintimenottoblurthername.
“And?”Tobiasprompts.
“He’slosingthem,”Isigh.
“Good.Gohome.”
“Notyet.I’mgoingtohelpflushthestreetsuntilI’msuretherestofFloridaisheadedsouth.Tobias,wecan’tletthisgo.IcancatchupwithTyler,andwecanendthistonight.Miami—”
“You’reneededhome.”
“Soareyou,”Isnap.“Butyouaren’tfuckinghere,areyou?”
Heexhalesharshly,circlingtheiceinhistumblerinhistypicalrepetitionofthree.“Howishome?”Delphine.
“Here’sanidea,callher,”Iclipoutandhangup.
“Whensomeoneblushes,doesn’tthatmean‘yes’?”—LePetitPrince,AntoinedeSaint-Exupéry“Myrainydaysareyours,Dominic.Ifyouwantthem.”
Shedidn’trun.
Evenafterwitnessingmeatmymosthostileandbeingmadeawareofsomeofthedepthofourdeception,shestayed.Notonlythat,butshealsometmedownstairswhenIgothomefrompatrolaftertheMeetup,bandagedmywrist,andfuckingbathedmebeforetuckingmein.TheonlyconclusionIcoulddrawwasthatSeanhadpreparedher—andwell.Wellenoughtothepointthatwhenheleftthenextmorning,shechosetostayatthehousefor,andtobewithme.AdayI’vere-livedwithmyrighthandthroughonetoomanycoldshowers.
“Itrainsalothere.”
Theweatherinthedayssincehasmadealiaroutofme.Evidencebywayofthesun’srayscurrentlylightingtheroominthereflectionofmybathroommirror.Razorpoisedaninchfrommyface,IglaredownatSean’sspitz,Brandy,whowhinesjustinsidemybathroomdoor.
“Whatthehelldoyouwant?”Isnap.Shereplieswithanorder-filledbark.Sighing,Irestmyrazoronthesinkandjogthesolidwhitehairballdownstairstotheslidingglassdoor.Openingitenoughtoletthedogthrough,theheatedsummerwindbreezesinasareminderthattheseasonhassetin.BrandyracestowardCecelia,who’swearingthebikiniIridherofthefirsttimeIfuckedher.Herbacktome,she’sbentover,pertassthrustintheairinoffering.IinwardlygroanasSeanyellsinstructionsfromthesideofthehouse,realizingthereasoningforherpositioningasshemovesasprinkler.
“Alittleclosertothefence,”heshouts.
“Here?”Sheasks.
“Yeah.That’sgood,Pup.”
“Isthewateron?”Shescrutinizesthearchedmetalbarfullofholes.“It’snotworking.”Asshefurtherlowerstoinspectthesprinkler,herbikinishifts,revealingaheapinghandfulofasscheek.
This.Fucking.Girl.
Temptationmocksmemerefeetaway,alongwiththeknowledgethatthere’snotadropoffuckingrainintheforecastanytimesoon.EachtimeIpulluptheweatherapp,Ihatemyselfalittlemoreforit.Thesummersunhasdecidedthere’snoreliefinthefutureforlittleDom,who’scurrentlygrowingthreesizestoobiginmyboxersatthesightofabeautifulgirl.AgirlInowknowalotmoreintimatelyafterasoliddayinbedtogetherbutcravetofucklikeitwouldbethefirsttime.
“Now?”Seanasks.
“Nope,”CeceliacallsbacktohimasIimagineahalfdozenscenariostoapproachherwithhowshe’ssituated.Shemightnothaverun,butshedidlayoutgroundrules.GroundrulesIstarttoresentherforasthethrobcontinuesinmyboxerbriefs.
“Huh,”IhearSeansay,knowingthattone.“Crankthedialupandseeifthatworks.”
“Thisthinglooksancient,”sheshouts,“It’sprobablybroken,okay,tryit—”hershoutturnsintoashriekasshe’ssoakedbySean’sdesign.Sean’sdeeplaughterringsoutasshescoldshimwithan“asshole!”
Brandybeginstobarkattheoffensivesprinkler,thedumbestdamneddoginexistence,whichiswhyImostlyignorethefactthatshedoesexist.
“I’mgoingtocutandtrimoutfront.Givemeaboutthirtyminutes.”
“K,”shecalls,bendingtopetBrandyassheeyesthesprinklerfanningwaterovertheyard.Expressionlightening,shestandsandsprintstowardthefencebeforeturningandrunningtoleapoverit,soakingherself,ashriekburstingoutofher.
ImagesofSean,Tyler,andmedoingthesamewhenwewererugratsshuttersin.Asshemakesanotherpassinmydirection,thesightofhersofullofcarefreejoyhasmychesttightening.Despiteherphysicalallure,she’sthepictureofpurity.EvenifsheexperiencedenoughduringherstartwithherparentstobejustasjadedasI’vebecome,sheisn’t.It’sbychoicethatsheembracesthelightersideofliving,whereasIwelcomethedark,dwellingamongsttheshadowsandmanipulatingthemtosuit.
Likeme,Brandystandsbyobservingher,equallycaptivatedbywhatmakeshertick,inanattempttotryandunderstandher.
Ceceliacontinuestorunbackandforththroughthewavesofwater,urgingBrandytojoinher.
“Comeon,girl,”shecoos,runningbackandforthindemonstration.WhenBrandyjoinsin,leapingoverthesprinklerintimewithher,Cecelia’smelodiclaughtercrashesintomychest,furtherwideningthecrackshe’smanagedtocreate.
DisgustedthatI’minchingtowardcreeperstatusafterwatchingonetoomanypasses,thehalfofmyfacecoveredinmentholatedshavingcreambeginstoburn.Rippingmyeyesawayfromher,Imakemywaybackupstairs.Pattingmyfacedownwithadamptowelafewminuteslater,Ispotthesummerofmydiscontentstaringbackatmyreflection.
“Hi,”shewhispers,hereyesrollingappreciativelydownmyframe.
Hi?
Hi?
Inarrowmyreturngazeonher.
Ifthisishard-up,I’mnotgoingthroughitalone.
Turning,Igripherwrist,yankingherintothebathroom.Palmingthewallnexttoherhead,IcrowdherasItracethedropletsofwaterskatingdownherglowingskin.Hereyessearchmineforareasonformyaggression,butmycockletsherknowasitsalutesherandremainsatattention—pointingstraightather.Whensheopenshermouthtospeak,IpressmyfingeragainstherlipsasSeancranksthemoweroutside.HerchestrisesandfallsasIlowermygazetoherpink-paintedtoeswhiledecidingmycourseofaction.
Grippinghershoulders,Ipositionherinfrontofthetoiletbeforeshuttingthelidandtakingaseat.Drapingthedamptowelovermylap,Igathertherestofmysuppliesfromthecounter.Flickingonthefaucettorefreshthewater,Iplugitbeforeswitchingitoffandliftingherfoot,restingitonmyknee.Wordless,CeceliarattlesinanticipationinfrontofmewhileIdispensesomeshavingcreamintomyhand.
Palmfull,IslowlybegintocovereveryinchofherlegandthighasIspeak.“Ittakesanaverageoftwentyminutestoreadyawomantothepointoforgasm.”Scrapingthebladefromherankleuptohercalf,Iswishitinthesinkandtapittwicebeforerunningitfromaboveherkneetoherthigh.AharshexhaleescapesherasIlookuptoseeherdarkblueshooding.
OnceI’vemadeafewpasses,Iswishtherazorthroughbeforeagaintappingawayanylingeringexcess.
Swish.Tap.Tap.
“Unfortunately,forwomen,twentyminutesofstaminaisprettyaverageforaman,whichwouldmakeourcreatorseemlikeonecruelmotherfucker,”Iscrapeanotherpathupthelengthofherleg,“ifsaidcreatorhadn’tgivenuswaystoremedythat.Yousee…,”Iglidetherazoralongtheridgeofherleg,“whatmostmendon’tknow—orgiveadamnenoughtoknow—isthatsaidcreatordidgiveusanumberofefficientwaystogetawomanwheresheneedstobe.Infact,therearethirtyways…ormore,dependingonthewoman.”
Swish.Tap.Tap.
KnowingIhaveherundividedattention,Iglanceupandcan’thelpsmirkingattherapidriseandfallofherchest.“Shouldwetryafewofthemout?”
ShenodshalfadozentimesasIresume.
“It’ssad,really,thatmostmenthinkofatightfitasareward,andforsome,it’sinevitableduetothesizeandgirthofthemaleanatomy,butnotallareasblessedasothers.”MyownblessingagreeswithajerkasImakeitapointtoexhalealongherfreshlyshavedskin,andgoosebumpserupt.“Butconsideringwhatawoman’sanatomyiscapableof,atightfitisoftenasignthattheprepworkwasn’tdoneproperly.”
Swish.Tap.Tap.
“There’stheinnerthigh,”Iscrapetherazoruptothetopofherthighasshepalmsmyshoulderstosteadyherself.“Thiscreaseatthetopofit,”Irunmythumbalongthesensitiveskinjustbelowherbikinibottomfromherasscheektoherhipashersoftpantsbegintofillthebathroom.“Thearmpit.”
Swish.Tap.Tap.
“There’stheears,thestomach,andthehands.”Pausingtherazor,IliftoneofthehandsrestingonmyshoulderandpinchherpressurepointasIgentlybrushmylipsalongtheentiretyofherpalm,includingthepadsofeachfinger.SheexhalesmynameasIdrawthetowelfrommylapandpatawaytheexcesscream.BrushingthetipsofeachpinkyalonghernewlysensitiveskinasItowelheroff,hereyesclosewhenthefirstmoanescapesher.
“Suchabeautiful,sunnyday,”Iremindherofherfuckingrules.Rulesthathindermefromactingonanyscenarioinwhichmythrobbingdickgainsaccesstotheheavenlingeringinchesfrommyface.RulesIrespectandwillcontinueto,buthateatthemoment.SherunsahandthroughmyhairasIturnherpalmup,lickingslowlyalongherwrist,catchingherspeedingpulsebeatingagainstmytongue.
“Thenthere’sthecrookofthearm.”Idemonstratebysinkingmyteethintotheskinoppositeherelbow,whichearnsmeamoredrawn-outmoan.
Noted.
Bringingherotherfootintomylap,Iglanceuptoseethelustinhereyes.HerplumplipspartasItampdownthedemandraginginmyboxers.
“Thebottomofthefoot.”Roughly,Irunmythumbalongthearch.“TheAchillestendon,”Isqueezethebackofherheelbeforemovingup,pinchingthetendonbetweenmyfingersashernailsdigintomyshoulders.
“Betweenthetoes,”Iwhisperheatedly,painstakinglybrushingafingerbetweenthesoftpadsofhergrass-coveredtoes.
“Theinsideoftheankle.”BendingasIlifthers,Irunmytonguealongtheouterbonetotheinsidebeforeclampingdownandsuckinglightly.Thishasmynamewhisperedwithmoreurgencyfromherlips.
Noted.
Dispensingmorecreamintomyhand,Irunituphertonedlegcoveringeverybitofskin.Herfingersdigintomyscalpindemand.“Scalp,too,”Isay,stoppingherexplorativehandandplacingitbackonmyshoulderbeforemakingseverallongswipeswiththerazor.
Swish.Tap.Tap.
“Dom,please,”shewhispers.
“Notintheforecast.”Feigningindifference,Irunthebladealonghervibratinginnerthigh.Usingmyfreehand,Ipalmherstomach,spreadingmyfingersinacaressbeforerunningituphertorsoandstrokingbetweenherperfecttits.Onebyone,Imovethetriangle-shapedcurtainscoveringherhardnipples,exposingthemtotheairsteadilyblowingdownfromtheoverheadACvent
“Obviously,thebreasts,whichisamorein-depthprocess…”
“Dom,I—”
“Butwe’llgettothose,”Icutin.
Swish.Tap.Tap.
Shavingtherestofthepathaway,Islowlymassageawayanyremainingcream.ThesecondIlowerthetowel,shetakesasteptowardme,andIpalmherstomach,slowlyinchingherback.“We’renotdone.”
Rapt,shewatchesmerefillmyhandwithasmallamountofshavingcreambeforeIpinchthetopofherbikinibottombetweenmyfingers.Pullingup,Iexposeherclearlydefinedtanlineswhilewedgingthematerialbetweenherpussylips.
Thesightofithasmycockjerkingagainintimewithherroughintakeofbreath.Hookingandholdingtheboundmaterialwithmypointer,Ilowermythumbandgentlybrushitalongthetopofherlandingstrip.“ThemonsVenus.”
Usingtwofingers,Igentlyapplythecreamonthesidesofherbikinilinebeforepickingupmyrazor.WhenIpressittoherskin,herbreathstopsaltogether.“Ineed—”
“Ifonlyitwereraining,”Itaunt,makingmyfirstswipe.
Swish.Tap.Tap.
“Wecan—”
“Shhh,”Iwhisper,takinggreatcareasIruntherazorgentlyalongthesidesofherpussy.“Thenwehavethelips…buttherearemorethanoneset,”Iwhisper,“actually,there’sthree.Theonesyougloss,andtheothers,”Ismirkupather,“Igloss.”
Bluewavesoffirereflectbackatme,thetorrenttidethreateningtosweepmein.ChestheavingwhenIwipeherfreshlyshavedpussyfreeofanyremnants,Ifeelthesnapinherbeforeshespeaks.
“Fucktheweather,”shedeclares,straddlingmeonthetoiletseat.Shethrustsademandingtongueinmymouth,andIdenyherbeforeswipingmyownalongherpoutinglips.Takingadvantageofthefactshe’sfirmlywrappedaroundme,Iliftandbackhertowardmybed.Gentlydepositingher,ItakeafewminutestorevisitthespotssheappreciatedmostbeforeIstarttotickofftheonesIhadn’tyetgottento.
Thetrimmersoundsupoutside,givingmeatimelineasIproponmysidenexttowhereshelaysflat.Chestheaving,pupilsdilated,herbodyhumsinresponsetoeverysingletouch.
“Wherewerewe?”Iask,runningafingeralongherneckbeforesuckingtheskinbehindherearlobe.
“Thelips,”sheraspsintomyearasIstifleanothersmile.Aftertracinghermouth,Islidetwofingersbetweenherpartedlipswithmyorder,“showmehowwetyouare.”Shepullsthemindeep,suckingfeverishlyasmycockthreatenstoself-destruct.
Fingerssoaked—butknowingIdidn’tneedthehelp—Islidemypalmfromherbreastbone,downherstomach,andintoherbikinibottomsonlytoconfirmit.She’sdrenched.Gatheringthewetnessseepingfromhercore,IspreadmyfingersintoaVand,withthepadsofthem,startlazilysweepingthemfromthebottomofherouterlips,tracingthemtothetop.
Grippingmyheadforakiss,Idenyher,andherbackarchesaspleasstarttopourfromhermouth.Takingspecialcarenottograzeherclit,herhipsbegintobuckforfriction.It’swhenIglimpsethesheenofsweatcoveringherthatIknowI’vegotherhyperawareandready.
Bypassinghernipples,Isucktheskinofherbreasts—theskinlesssensitivebutstillstimulative.
“Dom,please,please,”sheraspsout.
“Trustme,”Imurmur,watchingmyfingersasherpussyweepsforme,herchestbouncingasIstarttotracelazycirclesaroundherareolas,avoidinghertautnipples.
ShecriesoutwhenIdipfurtherin,tracingherinnerpussylips,satisfiedasshethoroughlysoaksmyfingers.
“Likeourfilthylittleexperiment?”Itauntasshewrithesbeneathme.
“Oh,God,”shestutters,“Dom,p-p-lease,please!”
“Yourclitispulsing,”Iwhisperhoarsely,notbotheringtohidetheheatinmyvoice,mycockstrainingagainstherleg,“andthat’sbecauseyou’reconcentratingonwhereyouthinkyouneedmetotouchyou.Butyoudon’t.Watchmytongue,Cecelia.”ThewholeofherbodyshudderswhenIrepeatedlythrashmytongueagainsthernipple.Hermoansbecomemoredesperate,herlegsshakingagainsttheforearmthatI’mmovingbetweenherthighs.Stoppingmyfingers,Iusemypointeranddipalittlefurthertorimtheopeningofherpussybeforesuckingherpebblednippleintomymouth.Asurprisedgaspleavesherwhenshestartstocomeundoneasecondlater.
“Letgo,”Iorderaroundthenippleclenchedbetweenmyteethbeforepullingitinandsucking,hard.
“Ohfuck,”shecriesout,hersoundscutbyherrapidbreathsassheconvulses.Thesightofitissofuckinghotthatmydickweeps.Asshecomesdown,shestaresupatmewithkaleidoscopeeyesinvaryingshadesofdeepblue,andIrestmypalmtocradlethesideofherface,gentlysweepingmythumbalongherhairline.
“Thatwas…”shelooksupatmeinwide-eyedwonder,“thatwascrazy,”shewhispersbeforeagradual,lazysmilelightsherface.“Ican’tbelieveIcame…likethat.”
“That’sbecausethemostimportanterogenouszoneishere,”Idouble-taphertemplewiththepadofmythumbbeforeslidingitalongherdelicatecheek.“Youwerehalfwaytherebecauseofhowattractedwearetoeachotherandbecauseofhowincredibleitfeelswhenwedofuck.”
Pupilsdilated,hereyessoftenasshesinksintomymattress,andIsoakupeverybitoftheaftermathinherexpression.“That’showitfeelsforyou?Incredible?”
“Yeah,itdoes,”Iadmit,whichiswhymydickhatesmeforthemoment.Thewordsarestartingtocomealoteasier,andworse,startingtoflowoutofmeunchecked.ThesoundofthetrimmercuttingoffsignalsthattimeisupasIpullthetopofherbikinibackintoplace.“Dom,thatwas…seriouslythehottestthingever,anddon’ttakethisthewrongway,but…I’mstillachingforyou.”
“That’snotgoingawayanytimesoon.Foreitherofus.”
Heransweringsmileservesasabatteringraminmychest.Liftinghertostand,Iturnhertowardmydoorandslapherasshardenoughforittosting.
“Ouch.”Sheglancesback,palmingandrubbingherasstosoothethereddenedskin.“Thatstung.”
“Good.Andjustsoyouknow,thenexttimeyoucomeintomyroomonadaythatdoesn’tbelongtome,you’regettingfuckedwithextremeprejudice.Oh,and…hi.”Grabbingthealternator,Ipulloutmytowelandwipeawaythedebrisfromthereconstructedpartbeforesettingitinplace.Tylerworkssilentlynexttome—latelymoreofanapparitionthanaroommate,onlyhauntingourtownhousetocollectbarenecessities.It’sobvioushe’skeepingsecretsofhisown.AfterspottinghistruckdrivingthroughouroldneighborhoodwhenIdroppedDelphineoffafterherlastchemoappointment,Ihaveagoodideaaboutoneofhischoicehaunts.Mywristsmarts,andjustasIstarttotightenitin,arumblesoundsinthedistance.
Earsperkingup,mypulsefollowsasabreezesweepsthroughmyopenbaydoor,coolingmysweat-slickedskin.
There’sbeennoexchangeofnumbersorapromiseforacallIwouldn’tmake.Cecelialeftmybedroomthatdaywithnothingmorethanawarningfrommeandanopt-inforherinvitation,weatherpermitting,asitdoesnowwithadeafeninglightningcrack.
AnunsettlingfeelingsnakesitswayinasIwonderinwhatfuckinguniversethiscouldpossiblywork.Especiallywithmyexistingbedsidemannerandrefusaltotreatthissituationdifferently.Therattlingechooffthebaydoorsasecondlaterhasmelosingpartialgriponmywrench,whichnoisilyclangsagainsttheengine.Cursing,Imanagetogripitbeforeithitsthegaragefloor.
“Haveyoueverhadagirlfriend?”
Igavehersomebullshit,butthehonestanswerisno,andIhavenointentionofbreakingthatwinningstreak.Evenso,sincethedayofourlastencounter,Ihaven’tgoneafewhourswithoutthinkingofher—andit’sdonenothingbutgrateonme.Ichalkituptosexualfrustration.Betweenthat,theinfuriatingidleofmyclub,thefesteringfrictionwithmybrotherandSean,nottomentionthesickfucksIcontinuallykeeptabson—it’ssafetosayI’mclosetoreachingmylimit.
Exasperated,Itrytofocusagainwhenthewrenchslipsfrommyhand,clatteringtothegaragefloor.Retrievingitanddeterminedtodismisstheideathatthisstateisperpetual,IglanceovertoseeTylerobservingmelikeafuckingzooanimalfromwhereheworksabayover.Anotherlengthyboutofthunderfiltersthroughtheshopasthenexticybreezebringstheunmistakablepatterofrain.
BristlingunderTyler’ssteadyattention,Iglareoverathim.“What?”
“Tellmewhereyou’reat,Dom,”hepromptsinacoaxingtone.“Givemethatmuch.”
“YouknowwhereI’mat,”Igritout,tighteningthefirstbolt.“I’mcageduntiltheonewiththekeyunlocksthedoor.”Isecureanother,mywristgivingmehell.“AnywordfromMiami?”
“Francehasbirdsonwatch.”
RainbeginstopourasIglanceatanaccumulatingpuddlejustoutsidetheconcretelipofthebay.“Asmuchgoodasthat’sgoingtodo.”
“Therewillcomeatime—”
“So,Ihear,”Icutindryly.“I’moverit,Tyler.I’mbeingagood,levelheadedlittlebird.”
“Therewill,Dom.”
“SorryifIdon’tbelieveyouoranyoneelsewearingthesameinkrightnow.”
“Igetthatthingsfeeloff,”heoffers.
“That’sjustyourroundaboutwayofsayingI’moff,”Izeroinonhim.“YouthinkIdon’tseethewayyoualllookatme?LikeI’msomebouncinglivewireyou’reallafraidtogetcloseto?”Ishakemyheadindisgust.“IfIam,it’sbecauseI’mfilledtothefuckingbrimwithaneedtoact—toexposethetruth.Somethingweoncehadincommonandhadissuesgettingotherstobelieveuntilproven.What’sincredibletomeisthatlately,I’vebeenputinthepositiontodefendmyselftomyfuckingown.”Ishakemyhead.“Youwouldthinkatleastoneofyouwouldunderstandmystruggle.Butitseemslikeeveryonearoundissolockedupintheirownfuckinglives—theirownshit—soafraidI’llupsetthebalancewhenupsettingthebalanceisthereasonwefuckingsoldieredupinthefirstplace.”
“Wearemoving,”heremindsme.
“Atasnail’space,”Iscoff.“It’slikeeveryoneforgottheywereonceangrytoo.Soangrytheyalteredtheirentirelifepathtotakeaction,andwhatarewedoing?”Itossmywrenchinmytoolboxindisgustasthelittlegirl’sscreamsinthelatestvideoamplify—thenoisecrashingbackintomeinabreath-stealingrush.
I’llneveroutlivetheimageofhersurroundedbymonsters—defenseless,alone,andbeggingforhelpthatdidn’tcome.Turningonhim,Ifeeltheangerstarttosimmerjustbeneathmyskin.“Thisisn’tsupposedtobeaboutus.Ifwegiveintocaringaboutonlywhatwegetoutofthis,we’renobetterthanthepeoplewe’retargeting.”
“Igetthat,Ido,”heassures.
“Yeah?”Isnapmyheadup.“So,tellme,brother.Wheredoyougoatnight?Becauseitcan’tallbeaboutthefuckingclub.”
Heswallows.“It’snot.Notalways.”
“That’swhatIthought.”
“I’mstillmad,Dom.I’vealsolaidwitnesstoshitthatnohumanshouldeversee.ThedifferencebetweenusisthatIcantemperitalittlebetter.ButyoucontinuallyseemtoforgetI’vesacrificedalottostartthisfightwithyou.Don’twritemeoffsofuckingeasily.It’sinsulting.”
Sighing,Ikeephisstareandgetareallygoodlookathimforthefirsttimeinweeks.Hispostureisfatigued.Thecirclesunderhisowneyesaredarkeningbythedaylikemyown.“Iamthankfulforyou,man,butit’sstagnantwaterwe’refloatingin,andit’s,”Igroanandrunmyhandsthroughmysweat-soakedhairinfrustration.
“WehavetotrustthatFranceknowswhathe’sdoing.”
“Whatifhe’sjustaslostasweare?”Iask,thethoughtterrifying.“Don’tyoufinditprettydisconcertingthathechosenowtosearchforhisbirthfather?Seemslikesomesortofexistentialshittome,anditcouldn’tbeworsetiming.”
“He’swonderingwhyit’sbeensohardtogetaholdofyouthelastfewdays.”
“Yeah,well,hecankeepwonderingbecausehe’sbeenignoringmeforhisownselfishshitsinceheleft.”
“So,it’snotthisthingwithCecelia?”
Ishakemyhead.“That’stemporary.Everyoneknowsthat,includingSean.So,ignoranceisbliss,right?MaybeI’llfuckaroundwiththatmindsetforawhile.”
Shouldersslumping,Ishakemyhead.“Doesn’tmatter…thingsarechanging,andapparentlysoarewe,andnothingaboutanyofthisfeelsright.”
“Ibelieveyou,Dom.Youdon’thavetoconvincemeofanything.Andnomatterhowmuchshitchangesorhowmuchwechange,I’mnotgoinganywhere,okay?”He’sonlyafootawaynow,hisbacktotheopenbayasrainstartstopourbehindhim.
Inodinreply,aslightbitoftensioneasingoffmyshoulders.
“Andyou’reright,”hesighs.“He’sbeingselfishwithhisquest,andthetimingisquestionable.Butconsideringhowlonghe’sbeenatthiswithoutus,hedeservesit.Hell,withwhatwe’reundertakingwithnoendinsight,maybewedeservetoindulgeinalittleescapeifwecanmanagetofindit.”
MyreplydiesonmytonguewhenIspotCeceliaoverhisshoulder,standingoutsideofthebayinasolidwhitesundress,lust-glazedbluesrollingovermyprofile.Staticinstantlylightsmyveins,alongwithasweepofreliefasIexhalethebreathIhadn’trealizedIwasholding.
“Yeah,”Iwhisperhoarsely,unabletoripmygazeaway,asTylerfollowsmyfocus.“Maybeweshould.”
Thenextrollofthunderhasnothingontheroarinmychestasthincottonclingstomymiddaymirage,who’srapidlybecomingsoakedwhilechargedsecondspassbetweenus.Apuffoftemperature-invokedsmokebillowsfromherheavingchestashersoakeddressoutlineshererectnipplesandeverycurve.Inolongerhavetowonderaboutthehowbecauseit’scrystalclearshe’sheretocollect.
Shecame.Forme.“I’llfindsomewhereelsetobe,”Tylermuses,turningtostalkoutasCeceliasetsintomotion,passinghimwithoutsomuchasaglance.Theslamofthebaydoorbehindhimleavesuscloakedindimlightaswecollide.Theimpactislikeamuch-neededshotthatrapidlyseepsintomybloodstream—Sweet.Fucking.Relief.
Hermoanvibratesmytongueasshesurroundsmeentirely—herscent,herskin,andhernoises.Myentirebodyisalightwithneed—mycock,alreadyfullyhard,strainstogettoherthroughmyzipper.Kissingherbackjustasfeverishly,Ilifthertostraddleme,andshemoldsaroundmeasifit’snatural.Itfeelsthatwayandhassinceourfirstkissonthatfloat.Whenwefinallypart,shelooksupatme,pupilsblownwithdesire.“Pleasedon’tstop,Dom.Ineedyou.”
Stunnedbyhereasyadmission,Ipropheronthehoodtorelievemyscreamingwristandrunmyhandsoverhersoakedarmsashereyessearchmine.“Cold?”
“No,”shemurmurs,grindinghercenteralongmycock.
It’sbeenonetoomanyfuckingdayswithoutrain,withouther.
“Dom,”shepleasforrelief,asifI’mtheonlyonecapableofgivingittoher.Rightnow,inhereyesandhertouch,shemakesmefeellikeIam.Godknowsshe’squicklybecomingtheonlythingIwantmorethanvengeance.
Ican’thavethatyet…butIcanhaveher.
Myblissfulignorance.
So,fornow,I’llgetlostintheoblivionsheoffersbecauseIneedhertoo—ifonlyforthepeaceshebringswithher.Imightbehorribleatthis,butshe’sgotawayofmakingmefeellikeanexpert.
ShestaresupatmeexpectantlyasscenariosracethroughmymindofhowthenextfewminutesmightplayoutifIgetgreedyandtakemysalvationhereandnow.Thethoughtofinterruptionlikely,Ireluctantlysethertoherfeet.Herhandscontinuetoroam,pluckingatmyclothes,runningalongmyabsassheliftstopresshotkissestomyneck
Shestaresbackatme,exasperated.“Seriously?”
“Berightback.”
Stalkingintothelobby,Ipullmycellfromthesafeanddialthenumber,thankfulwhenit’sansweredonthefirstring.
“Hey,Cindy,needafavor,”IglanceoveratCecelia,who’srunningherhandsupanddownherarms,andnarrowmyeyes.Littleliar.Sheiscold.“Twentyminutes?Leavemealittlesomething?Thanks,Cindy,Ioweyou.”
Walkingbackintothegarage,Idrinkherin,hair-soaked,tanskinglisteningevenwiththelackoflight.Shestaresbackatme,justasgreedilybutseeminglylost.Aftersecuringthebay,ItakeherhandandleadheroutofthegarageasIlockupbeforetuckingherintomypassengerseat.FiringupmyCamaro,Icrankuptheheatandturnontothemainroadasrainfloodsthewindshield.
Flickingupmybladestoclearit,Ishiftgears,leavingmyhandonthegearshift.Instinctively,Ceceliacoversmyidlehand,andIpullitoutofreach.
Glancingover,Iseethestingofrejectionasmycockdismissesitandspeaksonmybehalf,snappingoutmyfirstorder.“Liftyourdress.”
Shedoes,andIfreezewhenIseeathinstripofcobaltblue.
Fuckme.
“ShowmewhatI’vebeenmissing,Cecelia.”
Shegoestopullherpantiesdown,andIjerkmychinandbark.“No,leavethemon.”RetributionisinorderforthenumberoffuckingscenariosI’vedrummedupstarringthosepanties.“Pullthemtothesideandspreadyourpussywithyourfingers,”IsnapasIgivethecaralittlegas,“showme.”
Headtiltedback,shestaresoveratme,eyeshoodingasshegivesmeaglimpseofheaven.
“Wider,”Ibiteout,onthevergeofparkingany-fucking-whereclosetogetinsideher.Shedoesmybidding,andIdon’tgetmyfillwhenforcedtosnapmyfocusbacktotheroad.“Dipyourfingersinandgivemeataste.”
Whenshestartstoliftglisteningfingersinmyperipheral,Isnatchthemintomymouth,suckingandsavoringhertaste,determinedtodrowninit.Heransweringmoanechoesthroughthecabin,whisperingstraighttomycock,whichjerksinresponse.DoingeverythingIcannottodriverecklessly,Ireleaseherfingerswithapopwhilementallyclearingmycalendar,replacingeverythingonmyto-dolistwitheatingheruntilmylipsandtonguearesaturatedbyher.
Heartbeatthundering,Ieaseuponthegas—forcedtoslowaroundeverycurveasweheadupthemountain,everystretchofmileagonizing.Allowingmyselfonemoreglanceover,Iwitnessadropofwaterlandandrundownherexposedthighanddecidetoreplaceitwiththecumleakingfromthetipofmydick.
Whenwefinallyreachtheopengate,Iraceintotherightturn,andshemissesthesign,promptingmewithherquestion.
“Wherearewe?”Sheasks,glancingaround.
“Alone.”Whichisallthatfuckingmatters.Idon’twantanaudienceanywherenearus.Whetheritbeawallorafuckingbaydoor.AsmuchasitturnsSeanonattimes,voyeurismisn’treallymything.ShemadeitclearthenightoftheMeetup—it’snotforher,either.Onthat,we’restraight.PrivacyisanecessitybecauseIwanthertobeasvocalasshewasourfirstdayalonetogether.
Wipersslidingtherainfromview,Ihearthemudandgravelcollectonmytiresastheygripenoughroadtogetuspastendlessrowsofripegreenvinestotheleftandrightofus.Stoppingjustoutsideofthewinecellarcarvedintothemountaincliff,Iexitandroundthecar.Pullingheroutofthepassengerseatandstraightintome,Icrushherlipsinabruisingkiss.Trailingmyfingersbetweenherthighs,Inudgeherpantiestotheside.Thrustingtwofingersuptotheknuckles,Isqueezeherpussylipsbetweenmythumb,ring,andpinky.Usingthegrip,Icradlethemaroundmyswirlingdigitstoreadyher.Shebreaksourkisswithherpleasuredcry,partedlipsagainstmine.Recapturinghermouth,Iswallowhernoisedowninanattempttopartiallysatiatethebeast.
Rainbattersusbothoutsidemypassengerdooraslightningcracks,thestormfeelinglikemoreofaresultofus,thannature’spermission.
Everydropofrainthatfallsunleashesme.Feralwithhunger,Iwalkherintotheopencellar,clickingonthelight.
Justfeetinsidetheopendoorsitstheedgeofatwenty-foottablelitteredwithscatteredflowers,jars,andfloralsupplies,nodoubtabandonedafterIcalled.Uninterestedinoursurroundings,Cecelia’shandssnakebeneathmyT-shirt,fingerstracingmyabsasshesuckstherainfrommyneck,usingherfreehandtogripmycock.
“Dom,”shebreathesasshedragsherteethalongmyskin,rakinghernailsdownmychest.Inhalingabreathofpatience,IswipeoneofCindy’sofferingsfromthetopofanearbybarrelandunscrewthetopwithmyteethwhilepalmingCeceliatowardtheedgeofthetable.
“Pullyourdressaroundyourhips.”
Shecomplies,thematerialcinchedatherwaistbeforeIpressherflattothesurface.Eyesshimmeringwithanticipation,shegapesupatmeasIblazemyowntraildownherbody.Flatteningmyhandonthetablenexttoherhead,Ihoverabeatbeforedolingoutmynextorder.“Open.”
Takingaswigofthewineasshepartsherperfectlips,Idipandfunnelthewinefrommymouthintohers,the“hmm”inherthroatfuelingme.
Pullingdownthesoftmaterialathershouldertofreehernipple,Iflickmytongueagainstitassheclutchesmyhead.Armedwithanothermouthfulofred,Idrawhernippleintothemix,andshearchesagainstme.Pullingitindeeper,Isuckhard,areminderofourlasttimetogether.I’msatisfiedsheneedsnoneasherbegdriftsintomyear.“Dom,please,please.”
Ensuringherthirstremains—asdohercravings—Isplashsomewineoverhernipplebeforesuckingitin.Thespillagerunsalongherflawlessskin,ruiningthecollarofherdress.Pouringmore,Imakemywaydownhertorso,lavingeverytrailIcancatchwithmytonguebeforestoppingtolapattheshallowpoolgatheredinherbellybutton.HereyesfollowwhenIhitmyknees,draghertotheedgeandpushherthighsapart.
Tippingthebottle,Ifree-pouroverthethincobaltstripcoveringherpussy,beforesuckingthewholeofitintomymouth.Throughthesilkymaterial,Iteaseherclitwithfastflicksofmytongue.Shebeginstobuck,needingmorefocusedattentionforrelease,butIdenyher,optingtofeelthatexplosiononmycock.Takingmytime,Iwatchherwrithe.Ibringhertotheedgeasshedoesmybidding,mynametumblingfromherlipshalfadozentimes—thesoundofitpullsmefurtherintoourpresentcocoon.TheonlygoddamnplaceIwanttobe.Ensnaredbyhermelodicmoans,shesweepsmeupintoablueundertowasIsetthebottleonthenearbybarrel,freeingbothhandstotouchher.
“Dom!”shepants,“Ineedyounow.”
Feelingismutual.
Thehardconcreteisunforgivingatmyknees,andIknowthetablecan’tbecomfortable—butIcan’tspareafucktogive.Hookingherpantieswithmyfingers,Itugthemdownherlegsbeforesnappingtostand,bringingherwithme,andliftingtheruineddressoverherhead.WhenItossmyshirtaside,shegrabsmyinjuredwristandgazesupatmewhileplacingreverentkissesalongit.Herexpressionandtheactconveyjusthowmuchshecaresasthecracksheformedinmychestwidensalittlefurther.
Wordsfailmeasshecontinuestogazeupatme,completelybare,trustinherstare.Inthatmoment,IwanttowarnhernottosofreelygivethingsIhaven’tearnedanddon’tdeserve.Myheartbeatshifts,poundinginaremorsefulrhythmaseverythingstopsinthosefewseconds,andshestaresupatmewithfaithinhereyes.
I’mdeceivingher.
Browsdrawing,shepalmsmyjaw,tryingherbesttoreadthereasonformyhesitation,butlustandhungerwin.
Turninghertofacethetable,Iripmywalletfrommypantsandpressherflattothesurface.Tearingthepackagewithmyteeth,Iliftherkneetorestontheedge.Afterpluckingthecondomfree,Ipressmyfingersinsideher,twistingthemalongherG-spotinbeckoning.
“Fuck,please,”sheraspsoutinaprayerformetospeedupasIkeepatmytask,feelingthetell-taleswellatthepadsofmyfingersbeforeI’msatisfied.Withdrawingthem,it’sthevisionofherglisteningpussythatfuckingundoesme.
Unfasteningmyjeans,Ipulloutmydickandsecurethecondomonthetipasherbackrisesandfalls.Thevisionofherspreadandreadyforcethewordsout.
“You’resogoddamnperfect,Cecelia,”Iconfessbeforebendingtobitedownonhershoulder,cheekflatagainstthetable,Ifeedhermyfingersandshesucksthemeagerly.
ThoughIcouldreadyherallday,thelustoverridesmetothepointthatI’mstillrollingonthecondomwhenIthrustintoher.
ThesurgeofpleasureasIpressintoherhasmeroaring,“fuck!”
Coveringherbackwithmychest,andpinninghercrookedkneewithmyown,Iflattenherhandstothetablewithmineandstartfuriouslypumpingintoher.Pleasuresiegesmeasmewlsleaveherwitheverythrust.ThetablerattlesasIpistonintoher,flowersfallingoffthesidesasafewjarscrashontotheconcrete.Afterafewroughstrokes,Ipullbacktomyfeet,watchingmycockandherstretcharounditasshedesperatelytriestoholdon.Feelingherstarttosuccumb,Isnakeanarmaroundherwaisttolockhertome.ShestartstoshudderasIpickupevenmorespeed.“Giveitup.”
Withinafewtargetedthrusts,she’sshudderingbeneathme,raggedintakesofbreathinterruptinghermoanasherlegbuckles.Grippingherhipsasshecrumbles,IsecureherwaistwithmyotherarmandusebothtoliftherfromthegroundasIthrustherthroughtheorgasm.Shegoeslimpasitsubsides,andmywriststartstofailasIsetherdown.Igentlyturnheronherbackandsoakinthelookofher.Herhairistangled,lipsswollen,perfecttitsbeaded,chestheaving,andhereyesarecloudedwithrelease.TheroarintensifiesasIliftherheelstorestattheedgeofthetable.Grippingherhips,Islowlydragherdownthesurfaceandontomywaitingdick,watchingas,inchbyinch,itdisappearsintoherwetheat.Herbreathhitchesattheinvasion,andIpauseabeat,allowinghertimetoacclimate.
“Don’t,d-don’tyoudaref-fuckingstop.”
It’sallIneedasIthrustintoherlikeit’llbethelasttime—andchancesareitwillbe.Pleasurecoilsupmyspineasshegapesupatme,hereyesrollingupbeforetheyclose.
“Open.”Thrust.Thrust.Thrust.“Them.”
TheypopopenasIbatawayeverybitofreasoningthatthreatenstobreakthroughthesensationsbouncingbetweenus,pressingpastdeep,pastherlimitsandmine.Palmingherthighuptogodeeper,IfeelthesameinevitableclickIfeltonthatfloat—whichgoespastphysical.JustasIstarttodrowninthesensation,shereachesupandpalmsmyjaw,demandingacknowledgment.
ThatIdogiveher,slowingforlong,tenseseconds.
Idon’thideitfromher,butIdon’tvoiceiteither.Abeatlater,I’mreleased.Feelingcrazed,Irocketinsideherasherhandsroamovermychestandarmsuntilshegripsthesideofthetable.Seemingjustaslust-driven,shematchesmythrustswiththeliftofherhipsasthefeelingbouncingbetweenusintensifiestenfold.
Ifthisiswhatpassionfeelslike,it’stoofuckinggoodtoignore.
It’sthenI’mmadeawarethere’snodifferencebetweenfuckingandmakinglove—notwithaconnectionthisstrong.IcanmakeitasfilthyasIwant,butitwon’tlessentheeffect.It’smylastthoughtasshetightensaroundme,grippingmesohardasshecomes,Isuccumb.
Andfall…backintothestatewherenothingbutthefeelofusmatters.Likelasttime,I’mnotscattered,butpresent.Withher.
Justashigh,justasoblivious,justasblissedout.
AslostasIfeel—andhavefelt—shecontinuestofindmeandbringmeback.
Agiftfromher,oneIwon’teverdeserve.
Partiallycollapsingonher,theexhaleofhernamesoundslikesandpaperasshestrokesmyslickback,whisperingsentimentIcan’treturn.
“Imissedyou.”
“Buttheeyesareblind.Onemustlookwiththeheart.”—LePetitPrince,AntoinedeSaint-Exupéry“So,thisisathing,”Ceceliadrawls,voicehoarse,fatigued.“Youhaveaccesstobusinessesallovertown?”
“Ifwehelpfattentheirbottomlinewedo,”Iwhispertohertemple,runningthepadsofmyfingersalongherback.Herwine-soakeddresssitsinaheaponthefloor—asdomyclothes—ourcollectivefocusontheexpanseofleafyvinestrailinguptheslopeofthemountain.
Cheekpressedagainstmychest,shestraddlesmeononeoftwobuilt-inbenchesliningeachwallofthecellar.Meresecondsafterwecametofromourfirstround,adrawn-outkissledtoadeep,slowrideonthebench.Onewe’restillcomingdownfrom.
“It’ssobeautifulhere,”shewhispersdreamily,fullyrelaxed.Ican’tsayI’mnotfeelingthesamesortoflull,myposturejustaslaxasIdrawlazycirclesonherskin.
“Wine’sgood,”IglanceatthebarrelwhereanunopenedbottlesitsnexttothebreathingoneIdousedherwith.“Wantsomemore?”
“I’mnotreallyawinedrinker,butI’llhavesome,ifyouwill.”
“I’mnotreallyadrinker.”Ishrug.“Afewbeershereandthere.”
Abeatofsilence.
“BecauseofDelphine?”
It’snotastupidquestion,andforthemostpart,she’sonpoint.“Someofit.MostlybecauseIneedtokeepmywitsaboutme.”
“Incaseofbirdbusiness,”sheconcludes,tracingmyink.Anotherstrokeofmyfingersdownherbarebackelicitsafull-bodyshiver.Satisfactionthrumsthroughmeathowresponsivesheistomyeverytouch.We’rebothamess,hairpickedthrough,sweat-slickedandsticky.Ican’tmanageafucktogivethatwe’renakedandcouldbeeasilyexposedtoanyonewhomightpullup.Onedayinthenearfuture,wewillbe,andallhellwillbreakloose.Seancontinuestoplayignorantthatdayiscoming,whileIknowwhatrepercussionsthatrevelationwillbring.It’sthethoughtofcuttingherloosenowtohelpmitigatethatdisasterthathasmetensing.
“AmIright?”Liftingherhead,shefrownswhensheseesmymoodhasshifted.Shefailstosmoothoutmydrawnbrowswithherfingers,andIswathereffortaway.
“Suchamoodyman,”shesaysinjest.Thattruthstingsbecauseit’sallI’vedealtwithlatelyfromthoseinmyinnercircle—Seanespecially,who’scurrentlykeepinghisdistanceinawayheneverhas.Sensingmyirritation,sheshiftsfrommylapontothevacantbenchbesideme.“Dom,Iwasjoking.”
Upinarms,shereachesforwhat’sleftofherdressasIsnapoffthecondombeforegrabbingmyboxersandpullingthemon.“No,youweren’t.”
It’sthefuckingtruth.Ican’tseemtohandlemyshitanymore—mytemperbecomingimpossibletoregulate—especiallywhenmyminddriftstotherepulsivehorrorsI’vebeencontinuallyfeedingit.Notbotheringtogaugeherlackofresponse,Igrabthehalf-emptybottlefromthedecorativebarrelandwalkitovertoCeceliaasshecoversherselfasmuchaspossible—nowonthedefensive.
Waytogo,asshole.
Ifuckedupthemood,asIsooftendo.Thisiswhereshitgetstricky.There’snoquickpartingaftersexwithCecelia.It’snothowshe’sbuilt,andit’snotlikeIwanttoendourtimetogether,butthisisunfamiliarterritory—fuckinglightyearsfrommycomfortzone.Takingalongswigfromthebottlewiththattruthinmind,shegapesatme.“Uh…forsomeonewhojustdeclaredyoudon’tdrinkmuch,youprettymuchdownedaquarterofthebottle.”
“Wehaveanother,”Ithrustittowardherwithbruteforce,andshetakesitcautiously.Pullingonmyjeans,IpushintomybootsbeforemakingmywaytothepassengersideofmyCamaro.SlackeningrainpeltsmyskinasIcollectmystashfrommysmall,fireproofbox.Theinteriorofthecabinlightsup,andIglanceuptoseethesunpeekingfromthecloudsbeforescanningthesoakedgroundsoftheabandonedwinery.
Thinkingonmytoesabouthowtotrytoturnthingsaround,Iturnmykeyandtapasongonmyplaylist.BobMarley’s“ThreeLittleBirds”ringsout,echoingacrossthemountaintop.Glancingbacktowardthecellar,IcatchCeceliasmilingatme.
She’salreadyforgivenme.
Oneofhergorgeouslegsisproppedonthebench,herbarefootrestingontheedge,ourwinebottleunceremoniouslyclutchedtoherchest—she’sthepictureofserenity.
So.Goddamn.Beautiful.
Returninghergrin,Istalkbackintothecellar,takingaseatattheendofthetabletoroll.
“Thisreallyisadream,Dom,”sheswigsfromthebottle,andIglanceovertoseeherinhalingdeeply.“Thankyouforbringingmehere.”
“Iwantedtobealone,”Iassert,knowingitdampenssomeoftheromanticismforher.Butit’simportantshedoesn’tgetthewrongimpression.Pickingthroughloosebud,Ihearanotherswishofwineasiteasestothebottomofthebottle.
“Winedrinkerornot,thisisdelicious,”shescansthelabel.“PointLookout,that’swhereweare?”
“Yeah,theguywhoownsitisarelativeofTyler’s.HeattendedWestPoint.”
“Hereallywasbredfromaloyalmilitaryfamily,huh?”
“Allofthem.Everysingleone,”Itellher.“ExceptTyler’smom.”
“I’mguessingfromyourtone,that’snotgood?”Sheprompts.
“NotforTyler’smom,”Iconfess,tuckingtheweedintothereadypaper.
“Howso?”
Ishakemyhead,catchingmyself.“Notmyshittotell.”
“Ahh,moresecrets.”
“Yeah,sokeepthatshittoyourself,”Isnapalittletooharshly.
Jesus,fuck,Dom.
Shetakesanotherdrink,eyesflaringbeforetheysoftenasshelowersthebottle.“Wanttotalkaboutit?”
“Consider‘never’mystandardanswerforthatquestion,”Iswipeawaydebrisfromthetable.
“I’lltrytokeepthatinmind,”sherollshereyes.
AsmuchasIlikesparringwithher,itfeelsoffnow,consideringwhatjusttranspiredbetweenusphysically.
I’llnevergetthisright.
Soakingtheclosedjointbetweenmylips,Ifeelthefamiliarweightonmyprofile.
“I’llnevergettiredofwatchingyoudothat,”shewhispersheatedly,“it’ssexyashell.”
Thereitisagain,thediscomfort.ThoughIcan’treallyfaultherbecausewebothspeakbluntly,Cecelia’sboldtruthsprovokearawtypeofhonestresponsethatpryintome.Keepingtomytask,Icatchanotherinvoluntary,full-bodyshiverinmyperipheral.She’sstillcold.
Tuckingmybluntbehindmyear,Isnatchtheunopenedbottleinonehandandholdoutmyother,noddingtowardthewinesheholds.“Capthat.Let’sgo.”
“Already?”Shedeflates,eyesdroppingwhiletakingmyhandandreluctantlystanding.
Backinthecar,feelingherdisappointmentfromwheresheshiversnexttome,Imakeafastdecisionandturnright,treadingslowlyupthepaved,steepinclinedroadthatleadstothetopofthemountain.Themaintastingroomandreceptionhalltoourleft,Ceceliaaudiblygaspswhensheseeswhat’swaitingontherightasitgraduallycomesintoview.“Dom,ohmyGod,thisis.wow!”
Transfixed,sheexitsthecarinadream-likestate,andIgrinandfollow.Ipassahandfuloftablestojoinherwhereshesitsonthewaist-highrockwallliningthecliff.BeforeusisanendlessviewofthepeaksandvalleysoftheBlueRidgeMountains.Wespendafewminutesincomfortablesilence.It’swhenIlightmybluntthatsheripshergazeaway,glancingover.“Sothat’syouronlytruevice,”shenodstothejoint,“besidesbreakfast,”shegiggles.
“Don’tdrinktoomuch,”Iwarn.“Redwinehasawayofsneakinguponyou.”
“Iamfeelingalittletingly,”sheadmits.
“Idon’tfucktheunconscious,”Iwarn.
“Wow,”hereyeswideninmocksurprise.“Suchagentleman,”shemusesbeforegrabbinganothereyefulofthelandscape.“…youknow,foraguywhothinksromanceisagimmick,thisisprettyincredible.”
“Notagimmick,justnot—”
“—somethingthatinterestsyou,yeah,yeah,heardyouloudandclearthefirsttime.Atleastwe’repastthefuck-you-eyesandgruntingstage,”shejestsasIgiveherawarninglook.
“Oh,nope,seemswe’veregressed,”shegigglesagain.
Unabletohelpit,Ishakemyheadwithagrin.
“Ah,andprogressinthenextsecond,it’satangowithyou,King,butI’mguessingyoudon’tdance,either.”
Offeringhertheblunt,sherefusesit,andItakealongpull,answeringonexhale.“Youguessedright.”
Sheturnsbacktothestunningviewspreadbeforeus.“Yeah,nothingromanticaboutthisatall,”shedeadpans.“Thismustbekillingyou,Mr.GloomandDoom.”
Insteadofsnappingatherthatthiswasn’tintentional,Iletitgo.
EvenifIthinkromanticloveismostlyachemicallyinducedstate,shebelievesinit.There’snoneedformetobeadickaboutitortrytoruinherideaofit.Seancangiveherallsheneedsinthatdepartment.I’mgladinthatrespectbecauseshedeservestobelieveforaslongasshecan.Lifehasawayofrippingourideasandhopesaboutthethingsthatmattermosttoustoshreds.
WesitquietlyforlongminutesasItugonmyblunt.Fortunehasagoodfuckinglaughatmyexpensewhen,inthedistance,asolidrainbowappears.
Cuttinghereyesmyway,Ceceliapressesherlipstogetheruntilshelosesherbattle,burstingintoafitofhystericallaughter.“Talkaboutanepicbackfire,”shesaysthroughalaugh,“poorbaby,thismustbetorturousforyou.”
“Shutup.”
“Justwaitingonaunicorntodoafly-byanddropacrowninmylap,”shemuses.“ConsideringI’vealreadysnaggedatemperamentalPrincewhoridesadarkhorse,”shenodsbacktowardmyCamaro.
“Hilarious,”Iquip,pullingthelastofmyjointandstompingitundermybootbeforeglancingbackattherainbow.“They’reactuallyprettycommonaroundhere,”Itellher,justasanotherfadedduplicateappearsbehindit,bothbeginningandendinginahigharchovertheexpansiveneongreenterrain
“Holyshit,”sheexclaims,“soI’mguessingthisiscommontoo?”
Stunnedbythesightofit,Ican’trememberthelasttimeIsawarainbow,letalonebotheredlookingforone.MusicdriftsfrommyspeakersasIimmersemyselfinthecreatedatmosphere—intentionalornot—whilealightbuzzsettlesintome.Tensioneasingupsubstantially,mindslowingasIremainpresent,Isomehowmanagetoslipbackintoascarce,tranquilstatealongwithher.TurningtoCecelia,Iwatchherwatchingtheshow,herexpressionwistful.Maybeit’sthewineandthebud,ormaybeit’sher,butIcan’tripmyeyesaway.I’veneverbeensoattractedtoawomaninmylife.
Whoosh.Whoosh.
Sensingmystare,Ceceliaslowlyturnstome,hersmilefadingwhenIcupthebackofherheadandpullherclose.
Theever-presentbuzzincreasesasIsweepmytonguealongherlowerlip,capturingadropletoflingeringwineonthecornerbeforepullingaway,ourlipsbrushing.
Whoosh.Whoosh.
Whoosh.Whoosh.
Feedingfromthechargedcurrentcontinuallyhummingbetweenus,shestaresbackatme,equallyasensnared.
Fuckit.
Thekissstartsdeep,goingpastwhatIwentinfor,lastingforlong,blissfulseconds,maybemore,assheclutchesmetoher.It’swhenmychestrattlesinawarenessthatIbreakthekissabruptlyandstand.“Let’sgotakeashower.”
Hereyeslightasshereadsthemeaningbetweenthewords—thatourtimetogetherisn’toverasfarasI’mconcerned.Notevenclose.
AndI’mrightbecauseitrainsforthenexttwodays.
“Youbecomeresponsible,forever,forwhatyouhavetamed.”—LePetitPrince,AntoinedeSaint-ExupérySeanandIstandonoppositeendsoftheisland,sippingmorningbrew,debatingthenewsasifthestalematewe’vebeeninsincetheMeetupdoesn’texist.Thoughit’sstillapparent,theglimmerinhiseyesisback,andit’snobigmysterywhoputitthere.JustasIthinkit,thesourcecatchesbothofourattentionasshehaltsallmovementatthelandingofthestairs.FreshfromSean’sshower,sheidlesinblackboyshortsandaform-fittingtank—herexpressionthatofadeercaughtintwosetsofheadlights.Tobefairtoher,thisisthefirstmorningshe’sbeenalonewiththetwoofussincethisstarted.Seanglancestowardme,abrowliftedinamusement,beforemakinghisfirstattempttolurehertowardus.“Hey,Pup,haveagoodshower?”
Sheslowlynods,hereyesdartingtomeandbacktoSean.
“Coffee?”Seanasksinanotherefforttolureherdown.
Shenodsagainandslowlymakesherwaytousasifwe’reaproblemshe’stryingtosolve.Grabbingamugfromthecabinet,Iplaceitontheislandbetweenoursteamingmugsandpour.
Thesecondshe’swithinreach,Seanpullsherintohim,hiswhispereasytocatch.“It’scool,baby.We’renotgoingtobite.”Hekisseshercheek.“Yousmellsofuckinggood.”ShewhisperssomethingbackasIscanher,herhairtwistedandsecuredonthetopofherhead,herslender,delicateneckflushedredwithembarrassment,shame,orboth.
“I’mgoingtogograbaquickone,”SeancroonsinasoothingtoneasBrandytrotsintothekitchen,nailstickingonthetiles.“Wanttogogetsomebreakfastafter?”
“Sure,”shesays,eyeingmebrieflyasIpourBrandy’sbreakfastintoherbowl.
“Berightback,”Seangivesheraslowwinkbeforeheadingupstairs.Ceceliaeyesmepensivelywhereshestandsatthefridge,grabbingthemilkandheadingtowardtheisland.
“Hi,”Iwhisper,discardingthebag,unabletoholdmysmileasshecutshereyesatme,the‘asshole’clearinthem.Movingtojoinher,Itrailmygazedownthelengthofher.
“Whenareyougoingtomakepeacewithit?”IaskasIapproach,mybreathhittinghernapeassheuncapsthemilk.
“I’m,”herlipsliftinatightsmile.“Ihavenoclue.It’sjustdifferent.”
“Yeah?”Irunmythumbdowntheslopeofherdelicateneck.“Didhefuckyoulastnight?”
“Dom,”sheexhalesaharshbreathofsurprise.
“Didhemakeyoucome?”
“I’mnotansweringthat,”sheexpelswithashake.
RapidbreathsleaveherasIpulloutherhairtie,anditfallslimpalonghershoulders.ThescentofshampoohitsmeasIflexmyfingersthroughthebottom,lovingthesilky,coldfeelbetweenmyfingers.“CanhemakeyourpussysinglikeIdo?”
TheneedtomarkherbuildsasIenvisionherstretcharoundme.“Didhepressyourbeautifulfacetothemattressandbiteyourneck…”It’snotascenario,butamemoryofthelasttimeItookher“…suckyournipplepurple,andthrustinsodeepthatyouwentintosubspace,floodinghiscockandsheets?”
“JesusChrist,Dom,”shescoldsinalarm,herneckandprofileflushingred,stoppinghermilkpourjustintimetokeephermugfromoverflowing.Runningmyfingersthroughthedamphairatherneck,Icatchthebriefcloseofhereyesandtheglimmerofbluefirewhentheyreopenandfocusonme.
Herchoppyexhalesincreaseasthesightofourlastdaytogetherreplayssovividly,andmybloodstartstoheat.BecauseofmyattractiontoCecelia,mysexualimaginationhasgoneintooverdrive.She’sbeenmorethanawillingvolunteerforeveryexperiment,notoneofthemgoingawry.I’vetormentedherwithhoursofforeplay,edgingher,watchingherbeg,onlytocomebackaskingformore—nothingvanillaaboutit.Idon’tconsidermyselfamanofkink,butamanwithasexualappetitewhoflirtsontheedgeofit.Sheflirtsrightbackwithme,anditpaysoffforuseveryfuckingtime.
Grazingmyhardlengthacrossherback,Isweepherhairoutofthewayofmyfocalpoint,hernape,beforepressingmylipsbelowherhairline.
“Dom,”shewhispersonalert,“I’m,uh,I’m—”
“Shh,”Iwhisper,“Seancanspeakforhimselfaboutthebiting,”Itauntbeforesinkingmyteethintothebackofherneck.AmoanescapesherasIgrazetheskinImaderawwhilesnakingmyarmsaroundher.
“You’rebreakingtherules,”shemewlsinweakprotest.
“Can’treallyholdthatagainstmesinceit’smyfuckingprofession,”Iremindher,fanningthepadsofmysplayedfingersasIpalmherchest,runningthemoverhertautnipples.
“Dom,wecan’t—”
“Wearen’t,”Isay,trailingmynosealongherexposedshoulder,“IambecauseI’vegothome-fieldadvantage.Heshouldknowbetterbynowthantoleaveyoualoneinaroomwithme.Ever.”
“It’snotthatIdon’twantto,”sheexhalesshakily.Ibitemylipstoholdmychucklein.She’sstilleasingintopolyamory,andbeingthemotherfuckerIam,I’mnotmakingitanyeasieronher.Shechosethis,weallchosethis,andnotoneofusiscomplaining,especiallyher.
“SoterrifiedthatifIpulleddownyourlittleboyshorts,”Icupherpussythroughthem,“yourboyfriendwillfindmehammeringintoyou,”Isqueezeitagainforemphasis.“Butdoyoureallyknowwhathewoulddo?”
“No,”shesaysbreathlesslyasIbitealonghershoulder,markingherforhimtosee
“Maybehe’dpunishyou,”Iwhisper,“butyouknowyouwouldlikeit.Becauseyoulikemine,don’tyou,Pup?”Ihiss,feelingnoguiltforthisstolentimebecauseSeanhasn’texactlybeenallhandsoff,either.I’vecaughthimonceortwicestealingmomentsalonewithherwhenhecan,butneitherofushasfullycrossedthelineortheboundariesshecreated.It’snothingIbegrudgehimforandviceversa.Becauseofthoseboundaries,thesituationhasbeeneasiertonavigate.Thehookupsinthepastwerealwaysplanned,takingplaceoutsideourhomes,andneverhadanyimpactonourclub.Thisdynamicisentirelydifferentfromtheothers.
Thosewereclearlytemporary,andthoughthisoneremainsinthesamecategory,it’sthethreeofuswhoarecollectivelyandpurposelydrawingtheexpirationdateout.MeincludedbecauseIcan’tgetenoughofher.
ButevenasIseeaneventualendtothis,Idon’tdenythatitrunsdeeperbecauseSeanisalreadyattached,andI’mdrawntoherinawayIcan’tignore.
Runningapalmalongthematerialofherstomach,Idipmyfingersintohershorts,andshegripsmyhandtostopit.“I’monmyperiod.”
“Yourclitdoesn’tgiveafuck,sowhyshouldI?”Slippingmyfingersinjustenoughtomassageherthroughherpanties,IdemonstratehowmuchofafuckIdon’thavetogive.Startingwiththeslowrotationofmypointer,herheadfallsbacktorestonmychest.
“God,you’resuchabastard,”sheraspsout,asshestartstoshakeinmyhold,whereIhaveherpinnedbetweenme,myfingers,andtheisland.
“Notdenyingthat,askmetomakeyoucome,”Iorderasshebeginstomoveherhips,buckingintomytouch.“Askme,Cecelia.”
“Makemecome,”sheconcedes,turningherheadininvitationforakissIdon’ttake—akissIrefusetogiveherbecausethatwillonlytriggermeinwantingmore.Ourkisseshaveawayofignitinguspastthepointofreturn.AstateofarousalIhavenodesiretobeinifIcan’tactonit.
“Thatsoundedmorelikeanorder,”Iniptheshellofherear,“notarequest.”
“Dom,please,”shewhispers,andIknowit’sbecauseshewantsthatconnection.Ignoringherplea,Iaddafinger,massagingherinslowcircles,herbodyjerkingslightlyasshechasesthehigh.Breathless,sheturnsherheadagain,tiltingherchinup,herlipssocloseshe’sabletobrushthemagainstmine.
“Don’t,”Igritout,mycontrolonthebrinkofsnapping.
“Kissme,”sheraspsout,voicehoarse.
“No,”Isnap,myneedstartingtotakeoverashershouldersshudderandherclitbeatsagainstmyfingers.Bodymoldedtomine,Iphysicallyfeelitwhenherorgasmstartstocrest.Shegripsthebackofmyhead,ridingmyfingersfranticallyasshechasesthewave.
Pressingmycockintoherbackthroughthethinfabricofmyshorts,Idecideexactlyhowtopushherover.“NexttimeIfuckyou,I’mgoingtogetyousowetthatwhenIpressyourfaceagainstmymattressandspreadyou,you’llalreadybedrippingontoyourthighs.”
“I-I-fuck,Dom,”shepantsasshepullsthehairatthebackofmynecksohardmycockjerks.
“Giveitup,”Iorderasshetipsover,shudderingagainstmeuntilshe’sdepletedandsagging.Keepinghertightlytomeasshecomesdown,Iwhisperwordsthatspringupandflyoutunchecked.“You’rethemostbeautifulwomanI’veeverlaideyeson,Cecelia,especiallywhenyoucomeapartforme.”
Releasinghertograbmycoffee,sheturnssuddenly.I’monlyabletoseehernarrowedbluesbeforeshepushesmebackagainsttheisland,firmlygripsthebackofmyneck,andcrushesourmouthstogether.
Tensing,Iopentoobject.“Cece—”
Takingadvantage,shethrustsaninsistenttongueintomymouthandinstantneedsiegesme.Onesecond,onefuckingsecond,isallittakestosweepmein,tomatchtheviolentthrustofhertongue—whichIdo,lickforlick.Losingmyselfinthekiss,shekeepsmelockedtoherandhostage.Hermoansdrivemefuckinginsaneassheslipsherhandintomyshorts,grippingmydick—hard—andpumpingeagerly.Runningherthumboverthehead,she“hmms”insatisfactionwhenIgroanintohermouth.Shereleasesmycockbriefly,loweringherhandtosinkhernailsintomythigh.Mylegsdamnnearbuckleassheforcesmefurtherback,pinningmetothecounterwhileathermercy
Goddamn.
Mybearableflickerisnowstokedtowhite-hotflame.Igripherarmsinanattempttobreakfreeasshepressesallherweightagainstme,diggingherclawsfurtherintomyskin,knowingwhatitdoestome.
Shemaintainscontrolofmymouth,feedingandfuelingmeuntilI’minafrenzy,readytofuckwhatevershe’llallowmebeforesheabruptlypullsaway.Asmirkgrowsonherlipsassheeyesthestateofme.Seemingsatisfied,sheturnsanddumpstwospoonsofsugarintohercoffeeandstirs.Turningbacktomewithonearmcrossedoverhertorso,shetakesasipandscansmewhereIstandfrozen,hardasanail,andfuckingfurious.
Psychologically,I’monmyknees.
Physically,Icouldfuckabrickwall.
“I’massumingyou’rehalfwaythere,”sheliftsafingerandtapsmytempletwice,“becauseyouknowjusthowgooditfeelswhenwedofuck.So,”shepushesoffthecounterandglancesbackatme,swaggeringtowardthestaircase,“youcanfinishyourselfoff…oh,andhi.”
“Whydidyouhateme?”
“WhosaysIdon’thateyou?”
Groaning,Iglanceoveratthesmalldigitalclockonmynightstandastheconversationfromourfirstdaytogetherreplaysonaloop.
Blinkingaftercatchingsightoftheblurrydigitalhour,Irunmyhanddownmyjawwithagroan.Cecelia’smurmurscirculatethroughmyrestlessmindfortheumpteenthtimesincesheleftmeinthatkitchenafterturningthetables—leavingmewantingmore,needingmore.
Closingmyeyes,I’mstruckbytheingrainedimageoftrailingmypalmalongherspineandoverthecurveofherperfectass,alongwiththeechooftheblunttruthshebatteredmewithonrainydayone.
“Youstareatmeallthetime,too.”
I’vemanagedtododgethoseintimateconversationssinceourfirstday,butitcontinuestotauntmeanyway—invadingmelikeshehassinceshedroveintoTripleFalls.Thismorningshecalledmybluff,andasshewalkedaway,Iknewthatshe’dbeenplacatingme.Morethanthat,playingmebyallowingmetothinkIhavetheupperhand.Sheknowsexactlywhatpowersheholdsandhasbeenfeigninginnocent.
Atmykeyboardtonight,Ifoundmyselfzoningoutwiththoughtsofher.Ofwaystotryandkeepherentertainedinmybox.ThosethoughtseventuallywanderedtothevariouswaysIwanttofuckher.I’vefistedmydicktwicetoexpelthepent-upneedtonoavail,whichleftmesimmering.
Catchinganotherwhiffofherscent,Iturnmyhead,inhalingdeeply,beforepullingawayandglaringatthesourceofmyagitation.Grippingthepillow,Ipullittomeandinhale,identifyingtheculpritformyunease.Smellevokesmemory,whichthenhelpstotriggeralltheothersenses.Droppingthepillowlikeit’sonfire,Irealizeit’sheraddictivearomathat’sprovokedeverytorturousminuteofthelastninefuckinghours.
Liftingmybedsheettosniff,Icatchanotherstrongwhiffofher.
She’severywhere.
Inmyhead,inmysheets.EvenmylibidoisstartingtoplayFido.
Fuckthis.
Springingtomyknees,Igripthefittedsheetandtughard.TheendssnapoffthecornersbeforeItosseverypillowinthecenterofit,wrappingthemupandfistingthebundlelikeasackovermyshoulder.Draggingitbehindmedownstairs,Ihitthelandingasanotherhintofherengulfsme,andItossthemtothefootofthestairslikethey’reonfire.Marchingtowardthekitchen,I’mstoppedshortbytwopairsofcuriouseyes.Tylerstandsfrozenontheothersideoftheisland,coffeemughalfwaytohismouth.Seanisacrossfromhimatthestove,spatulainhishand.Stalkingpastthemintothekitchen,Isnatchatrashbagfromunderneaththesink.
“Morning,buddy,”Seansays,hisvoicefullofmirth.“Haveanaccident?Don’tworry.Ithappenstothebestofus.”
GlancingupasIstuffmybeddingintothebag,IseeTylerbitinghislipstokeepfromlaughingasIglarebetweenthetwoofthem.
“Youdoknow,”Seandrawls,lazilycuttingthroughhiseggswiththespatulatoscramblethem.“Youcanwashthepillowcases,right?Noneedtotossthepillows,too.”
“Fuckyou,”Isnap,tyingthetrashbagbeforeheadingupthestairs.
LaughtereruptsoutofbothofthemasIgriptherailandtakethemtwoatatime.
“He’ssofucked,”Tylersoundsthroughachuckle.“IsweartoGodhewaslisteningtoK-CiandJoJolastnightwhenIpoppedintohisroom.”
“Itwasontheradio,youdick!”Idefend,stalkingtowardmybedroom.
Imayhavefoundthesonginmycloudandreplayeditonceortwice.
“Doesn’tsurpriseme,”Seancoosupatmeintaunt.“Themeanertheyare,thehardertheyfall.”
“Don’tconfuseyourentrapmentwithme!”Iboom,takingthelastfewstridestomyroomandsnappingmydoorclosedbehindme.Chestheaving,Ipalmthebackofitasifthesheetsmightcomebackforme.“JesusChrist,King,getagrip.”
ButIcan’tbecausedeepdown,Iknowexactlywhatthisis.
She’stryingtodomesticateme!
Scanningmyroomforanyremnantsofher,Ispotahairtieonmynightstandandnarrowmyeyes.Grabbingmytrashcan,Iwalkovertoit,flickitoff,andintothecan—satisfiedwhenIearntwopoints.
Ifthisislongingorattachment,itendsrighthere.
Rightnow.
“Haveyoueverbeeninlove?…It’snotastupidquestion.”
“Itisifyoufindloveirrelevant.”
“Whyisloveirrelevant?”
“Becauseitdoesn’tinterestme.”
“Neverwill,”IsaytoabsolutelynooneasIstalktowardtheshowerandturniton,spottingatubeoflipshitonmysinkbeforeswattingitintomynearbytrashcan.
Loveisafour-lettercurse.NobirdIknowof—who’sbeenstruckbyit—haseverflownquitethesameway.
ShemayhavethelookstorivaleverywomanI’veeverfucked,apussymadeforworship.Shemayevenbeadecentconversationalistandreadingpartner,butIWill.Not.BeDomesticated.I’vebeendomesticated.
Somewhat.
Toasmalldegree.
Minuscule,really.
What’sworseisthatIactuallydon’tminditthatmuch
Reasonbeingisthatitbringsamodestlevelofroutinetomyotherwisechaoticexistence.
Ceceliaflipsapagenexttomeasmusicfiltersfrommyspeakers.Exhaustedbytherecentshortboutofsleeplessnights—whentheskyfuckingrefusedtobreak,andrainrefusedtocome—Iclosemyeyesasrelaxationsetsin.Handsplayedonmychest,Itapalongtothesongwithmypointer.MamanlovedChicago.Afewbarsin,Ifeeltheunescapableweightofadeepbluestareonmyprofile.
Crackingoneeyeopen,IseeCecelia’sbookslidingfromherchestontoherlap.Shesitsinnothingbutstarkwhitepanties,herjawslackasshegapesatme.Inthenextsecond,shetossesthesheetupbeforeithangsbrieflymidairandlands,blanketingherasshestartsrootingaround,searchingthemattress.
“Thefuckyoudoing?”Iaskasshepokesmysidewiththepadsofherexplorativefingers.
“ItseemsI’vemisplacedthemotherfuckerIcamehomewith,”shesays,hertonejovialbeforeshelowersthesheet,ablindingsmileinplace.“Becausethere’snodamnedwayIjustbustedhimlip-syncingPeterCetera…O.M.G.isthatablush?Areyoublushing?”
Unabletohidemysmile,Islowlyextendmypalmtoherchestandflattenitbeforepushingheroffthebed.Shelandswithathud,herhystericallaughterfillingmybedroom.NotatallsomethingI’musedto—mychesttightensalittleattheideaitcouldbe.
Laughtersubsidingslightly,Cecelia’sheadpopsupintoview.Liftingtoherknees,shefoldsherforearmsonthebed,browsraised.“NotetoCecelia,alittlewineandafewpuffs,andyourclosetedromanticcomesout.”
“Haven’thadadrop,andyouknowit,”Iassert.
“Whichonlyfurtherprovesmypoint,”shequipswithashrug.“Yoursecretissafewithme,mymenacingmotherfucker,butIfeelit’smyduty—asI’vebeentoldnumeroustimesrecently—totellyouto‘ownit.’”
“You’redelusional,”Idismiss.
“Can’tblameyou.Astheysay,‘theydon’tmakelovesongslikethisanymore.’”
“Theyareidiots.”
“Ah,JeanDominic,”shecoos,“butyouhavetoadmit,itputsyouinthemood,right?”Shesnapstoherfeetandturnssideways,thrustingherpertassoutandpositioningherhandsonherhipsbeforeshestartstogyrate.“It’sallbumpandgrindthesedays,”shebellowsinaterrifyingimpressionofaman’stimbrebeforebooming,“and‘getonyourkneesandsuckitbiatch!’”
Shepopsherassoutwitheachwordforgoodmeasurewhichhasmebarkingaloudlaughasshecontinuestogyrate,addingherarmsinthemix.“Stop,”Ichuckle,“foryourownsake—andmine—anddon’teverdothatagain.”
Sheturnsandtossesaflirtygrinoverhershoulderwhilebattingherlashes.“Youreallyshouldn’ttrytodenyyourinnerromantic,JeanDominic,I’veseenit,andIbustedyousiftingthroughTheBronzeHorseman.”
Ishrug.“Theplotisdecent.”
Sheclimbsbackonthebedandpresseshernosetomine,drawinganotherchuckleoutofme.Herbravadoisduepartlytothebottlewesaved,andItellherasmuch.“You’recutoff.”
“Idrankitallanyway,anddon’tyoudaretrytodivert,buddy.You’vegotmorethanoneromanticboneinyourbody.”Shepopsherbrowsandrunsherfingersdownmycock.
“Ididn’treadthewholething,”Ilie.
“Uh,huh…sureyoudidn’t,that’swhytheothertwobookssuddenlypoppeduponyourshelf.”Stradlingme,shepressesournosestogetherandbugshereyes.“I,too,takenoticeofthings,birdman.”Shelowershervoiceaboveawhisper.“You’reinquitethemoodtonight.DareIsayagoodone?”Ipullmynoseawayandgripherass,squeezinghardinwarning.
“Ouch,okay,fine,Iwon’tpushit.Besides,ifyouholdthatsmileafewmoreseconds,youmightscareyourface.”
Shetakesherplacebesidemeastheopeningnotesof“HardHabittoBreak”starttoplay.Anglingherheadsoweshareapillow,shelistensintentlyuntilthesongplaysout.“Nothingtointerpretaboutthat,”shecommentsinmentionofourbuddingroutine,wherewelistentoolder,morecrypticmusicfromdifferenterastotryanddecipherthelyrics.Shesqueezesourlacedfingers,lookingoveratme,eyeshazed.“God,thatwasbeautifulandpainful.”
“Someofthebestthingsare.”
Sheturnsonherside,proppingherheadwithherpalm.“Suchas?”
“Growingup,”Isay,tracingthedivotatthehollowofherthroat.
“That’sright,”shegripsmyfingerandkissesitreverently.“Someoneisabouttohaveabirthday.”Sheglancesbackatmybedsideclock,“inexactlyfourhours.”Hereyeslowertocalculatingslits.
“Pleasedon’tembarrassyourselfbymakingplansIwon’tshowupfor,”Iwarn.
“Don’tunderestimateme,JeanDominic,”shequips,twinklingeyesmakingitapparentthataplanisalreadyinplace.
“Stopsayingmynamelikethat.I’mnotaFrenchpoet.”Brushingthehairawayfromhershoulders,it’seasytomakeoutshe’sfullyrelaxedandseemingly…entertained.SomethingIcan’tsayI’veeverreallyaccomplishedwithanothergirloutsideofthephysical.
Butforhowlong?Shecan’tbehappylockedinmyroom.Sheneeds—
“Whateveryou’rethinking,stop.Itisn’ttrue,”shesayssoftly,readingmyapprehension.Somethingshe’sgettingwaytoogoodat.KnowingI’mnotgoinganyfurtherwiththeconversation,shetakesthereins.“Sparkoneup.ThistimeI’msmokingwithyouandplayingDJ.”
Liftingtosit,Idoasorderedassheflipsthroughtheextensivedigitallibraryopenonmydesktop.Notaminutelater,“OhNo,”bytheCommodores,anotherofMaman’sfavoritegroups,startstoplay.
Sheshrugswhensheseesmysurprise.“Iloveditwhenyouplayeditbefore.”Turningituponmykeypad,shesmirks,knowingwe’reatfullcapacitytonightatthetownhouse—nodoubtpissingtheneighborsoff.EvenwithLionelRichieblastingthroughmyroom,Ican’tfindafucktogive.Especiallywhensheanimatedlyleapsbackontothebed,pouncingme.Loweringherhead,sherunsherlipsandtonguealongmyneckbeforereachingforacondomfrommynightstand.
“Iamnotfuckingyoutothis,”Iannouncefirmly,“Ihavemylimits,”Imumbleagainstheractivelipsasshedoesherbesttoseduceme.“I’vealreadywatchedonetoomanyteenangstmoviesagainstmybetterfuckingjudgment.”
“Two,”shedrawsoutasIturnheroverandsinkbetweenherthighs,discardingthebluntsheorderedmetolightonmynightstand.
“Yeah,andthat’stwotoomany.”
Itwasanotherofthoseraredaysspentoutofmyhead.Wherewedidexactlyshit—asidefromwatchingmoviesonmylaptopandfucking—butadayIdidn’tfeellikemyworldwascomingtoanend.Shestaresupatme,grinningliketheromance-drunkfoolsheis.Thatlookisunmistakable—alookshegivestomeinfrontofeveryone,unabashedly,fearlessly,whetherwe’reatthegarageoralone.Alookmyheadandchestcannolongerignore.Alookthat’sstartingtofeellikeit’sbeyondchemistry.
Myblissfulignorancestaresbackatme,hersmilefading,thatlookever-present.
Ignoringitisfuckingtorture—soIdon’tbotherdoingitordenyingitanymore.Ican’t,tothepointthatIpalmherfaceandlowertokissher.WhenIclosethekiss,shepullsback,dazed.“Whatwasthatfor?”
Forbelievingforthebothofusthatwhateverthefuckishappeningbetweenusisreal,becauseIcan’t.
ThethrobonlyincreasesasItakehermouthagain,andshematchesme,lickforlick.I’mhardinseconds,andIrefusetoignoreit,thisthing,thisfeeling,thisstate.Lionelserenadingusornot,ourattractiongetsthebestofme,andIletitguidemealongwithhermoans.JustasI’mabouttotakeherpantiesdown,apoundingsoundsonmybedroomdoorasecondbeforeTyler’svoiceboomsfromtheothersideofit.
“Please,fortheloveoffuckingGod,nomoreloveballadstonight.That’sallI’masking.”
Seansoundsoutnotevenasecondlaterwithan“A-fucking-men,brother.”
“FirstchanceIget,I’mmovingoutofthisfuckingfrathouse,”Tylersnapsbeforeslamminghisbedroomdoor.
CeceliaandIbreakapart,laughinghysterically.Shebucklessideways,andwhenIrealizeherdestination—floor—andmanagetogetagoodgriponher,shetakesmedownwithher.
Westaythere,crumpledbetweenhersideofthebedandmybookshelf,hercradledinmyarm.Asthesunsets,theroomgrowsdarker,andneitherofusmoves.Whispersofstreetlightstreambetweenmyblinds,hittingthewallbehindmycomputeraswesmokeajointwhilelisteningtotheCommodores.Whentherecordplaysout,CeceliafillsthelongboutsofsilencesheknowsIwon’tbytellingmeaboutherlifebeforeshewassummonedtoTripleFalls.
Sincethisthingbetweenusbecameregular,I’vedonewhatIcantoavoidthispart—knowingtheconsequencesoffeedingintoitanddecidingit’sinevitable.
BecauseIwanttoknow.Everything.
So,Ilisten,feigningignoranceabouttheparticularsIdo.Atthesametime,shefillsmeinonmemories—andthepeoplethatmattertoher.ShechangessomeofthefictionI’vereadabout—thegirllivinginaparalleluniversetofactual—thebeautyofwhatmakeshertickwhilewhisperinganewrealitybetweenus.
“I’msorry…Ihaven’tshutup,”shesayssometimelater.Idon’tevenrecognizehowmuchtimehaspassed,havingsunkdeeperintohermelodicvoice,herhistory,herantics,smilingorchuckling—evenwhenshe’snotfunny.
Especiallythen.
“Mustbetheweed,”sheoffersasifherramblinghasn’tbeenpresentthewholetimewe’vebeentogether.“AmIboringyou?”BeforeIcananswer,she’stalkingagain.“Idon’trememberwhatIwastalkingaboutanyway.”
“WhenyouandChristystoleyourmom’scarinseventhgrade,”Iprompt.
“Youwerelistening,”shemuses.
“NotlikeIhadmuchofachoice,”Iquipinjest,pullinghertightertomesosheknowsit.Ifeelhersmileagainstmyskinasshetiltsback,hereyesonwhatshecanmakeofmyprofilebeforeshepressesaslow,sensualkisstomyneck.Shewantsmetoknowshecaresandtofeelit—andIdo.
Stoppingthisispointless,butencouragingitistheworstcrimeIcouldcommit.
Tonight,Idoneither.
Whenhersoftmurmursstarttofadeinstrength,Igatherherupandlayheratopmeonthebed.Burrowingin,sherestshercheekonmychest,securingherthigharoundmytorso—theactfamiliar.It’showwesleep.Thefeelingofitsettlinginmychest,thekindofintimacyI’veneverallowedmyselfwithanyone.
Ever.
Becauseoftheexactfuckingconflictgoingoninsidemenow.
“HappyBirthday,Dom,”shewhisperssoftly,runningherfingersovermychestbeforedriftingoff.Somewherebetweenthedriftofsleepandconsciousness,IclaimtheonlygiftIwant,palmingherthighanddrawingituptobringhersnuggertome.Pressingandkeepingmylipstoherforehead,Iinhaleherscentandletmyselffallintotheideaofusandlingerthere—knowingthateventually,I’llbejerkedawaybythehard,unforgivablerealitywaitingformewhenIhittheground.
Rousingduetothefeelofherhandonmycock,IopenmyeyesintimetoseeCeceliaflicktheheadofitwithhertongue,themostdevilishsmileliftingherlushlipsassheglancesuptoseemyeyespopopen.
“Hi,”sheraspsout,agreetingthatringsoutmorelikeawarning.Freshlyshowered,dressedinatanktopandpanties,hairdamp,shegripsmehardasaconfessionstartstorolloffhertonguebetweenlicks.
“Incaseyou’veeverwondered,”shemurmursbeforeflatteninghertongueuponesideofmycockanddowntheother,“IfIwasbraverthenightIsawyounaked.IfIknewthenhowgoodthisfelt,”shedrawsout,hertonepureheat,“Iwould’vewalkedintoyourroom,”sheswirlshertongueoverthetipofme“anddonethis.”Clampingherswollenlipsaroundmylength,shetakesmetothebackofherthroat.
JesusChrist.
Alowgroanescapesmeassheworksmeover,lipsstillswollenfromthehourswe’vespentinthisbed.Herskinmarked,shoulderandneckrashesstillrawduetomybottomlessimagination.
“Fuck,”Igrunt,fightingmyhipstokeepthemidleasheraddictivescentinvadesme.Intentonnotmissingasecond,Igatherherdamphairintomyfist,absorbedasshetakeshardpullsofmycock,keepingmybaseinafirmgrip.Inhibitionsforgotten,shekeepsherconfidentgazeonme—onmyreaction.
WhenImovetoliftheruptome,sheswatsmyhandsaway,makingitclearshewantsmeathermercywhileshetakesmypleasureforherself.She’scomingintoherown,realizinghowpotentherpowerisoverthosethatdesireher.Withthatknowledge,Iletgo,allowinghertotakewhatsheneedsfromme.ThesecondIdo,shesucksmesothoroughlythatIseestars,tighteningthefingersIhavetangledinherhair.
“Theperineum,orthetaint,”sheticksoffasifdoingamentalcount.Shebrushestheskinjustbeneathmyballs,fistingmysheetsasshesuctionsbeforelettingmytippopoutofhermouth.“Oh,didIsaythatoutloud?”
Inarrowmyeyesassherakeshernailsgentlyovermyballs—leavingmespeechless.
“Youdoknowthat’soneofamale’smostpotenterogenouszones,right?”Shedemonstratesit’sfastbecomingoneofmyownasshelickstheskinbeneathmyballswithanexplorativetonguebeforedeep-throatingmeandpressingonitgentlywiththepadofherthumb.
I’vecreatedamonster.
“Cecelia,”Igritoutinwarningassherakeshernailsdownmythigh.
“Come,”shecommands,grippingmybasehardandsuctioningaroundthehead.
“Fuck,”Iexhaleassheswallowsmyreleaselikeit’stheairsheneeds.Chestheaving,Istaredownatherassheflattenshertonguealongeachsideofmyshaft.Shecarefullyavoidsmysensitivetipbeforereleasingmeandmovingtohoveraboveme,eyesglitteringwithsatisfaction.“HappyBirthday,motherfucker,andgoodmorning.”
Releasingmysmile,Irunathumbalongherswollenlips.“You’redoingagoodjobofconvincingmeitcouldbeboth.”
“Takeashowerandmeetmedownstairs,”shewhispersbeforeplacingafewworshipfulkissesonmylips.
“Joinme,”Iwhisperback,matchinghertone.
“I’vealreadyshowered,soI’llseeyoudownthere,”shebouncesoffofmeontotheedgeofthebed.
Igripherarm,pullingherupperhalftome,browraised.“Cecelia?”
“Yes?”
“What’swaitingdownstairs?”
“Coffee,”shesays,feigninginnocence.
“ItoldyouIdon’twant—”
“Shutthehellup,King,”sheeasesfrommygripandstands,pullinghershortsupbeforetossingmynextorderoverhershoulder.“Makeitquick.”
Whensheclosesmydoorbehindher,mygazetrailsuptotheceiling.Anotheryearolder.AnotheryeartocreatethefutureIwant.AnotheryeartochangeitifIdecidethelifeI’mlivingisn’tenoughforme—anotheryearofopportunitynottoproceedalongthepathIpavedformyselfandmybrothers.Thechoicehasbeenano-braineryearafteryear.It’smyfrustrationsinthelastfewmonths—andthelackofprogress—thathavemequestioningthedecisionforthefirsttimesinceIgotinked.Standinginthebathroom,Istudymytattoo.
Whatdifferencecanonemanreallymake?
Ahundredyearsfromnow,willasinglethingwedocollectivelytrulymatter?
Willeveryvictoryweclaimbewipedawaybyathousandstepsback?
Runningmypalmovertheheavilyimprintedink,Iresigntotry,asIhavesincethedaytheneedlespenetratedmyskin.
Mymindismostlyquietduetothewake-uptonguebelongingtoablue-eyeddevilindisguise,orangel,dependingontheminute.I’minthemidstofshampooingmyhairwhentheshrillsoundofthesmokealarmringsout.Managingtogetsomeofthesudsrinsed,IleapoutandslipalittleonthetilesasIsnatchmytowel.Grippingitaroundme,Iracedownthestairsandamstoppedatthelandingbythesightthatgreetsme.
Ahand-painted‘HappyBirthdayMotherfucker’bannerhangsaboveourkitchenisland.Tothesideofit,Brandysits,tailwagging,aconebirthdayhatstrappedbeneathherfurrychin.It’sCecelia’sshrieksandSean’shystericallaughterthatgrabstherestofmyattention.CeceliascoldsSeanadecibelhigherthanthealarmassheopensthesmokingoven.Mittscoveringbothhands,sheretrievesacakeasthesmellofburnedbaconwaftsintomynose.
“Giveitup,Pup,”Seanchuckles,circlingherwaistandliftingherwheresheholdsthecakebeforeswinginghertowardthesinkwhereshereleasesitmid-bitch,“…toldyounottodistractme,togivemejustfiveminutes!’”
ShepushesagainstSean’scaptiveholdashenuzzlesher,chucklingdeeply.Releasingher,SeanmovestheburningbaconfromalitburnerontoanotherasCeceliacatchessightofme,shampooslidingdownmychest.Brandytakesnoticeofme,too,barkingjustastherightsideofthebannerfallsfromwhereithangs,sweepingapartyplatefullofrunnyeggswithittothefloor.It’safuckingcircusandeverythingIneverthoughtIwantedbutglimpseinthosechaoticseconds.
SeanbeginstowaveabroomatthefirealarmasCecelia’sexpressionfalls,shouldersslumpingindisappointmentasshedartshereyesfromthesmokingcaketotheburntbacon,toBrandy,andbacktome,lipquivering.
So,thisisadoration
Itissuchamysteriousplace,thelandoftears.—LePetitPrince,AntoinedeSaint-ExupéryAmelodic“cha-ching”soundsfrommymonitorspeaker,andImakeafewclicks,settlingintowatchmylatestegghatch.Moneyhasn’tbeenanobstaclesincemybrother’sgambleyearsagoataFrenchhorsetrack.AgamblethatmademeateenagemillionaireandfundedthestartupofExodus.Managingourfundssincehasbecomeoneofmyfavoritehobbies,whichincludesterrorizingcorruptfucksintofeedingmoreintoourmachine.
Anotherday,anothersuitwhoplayedthegame,wonandlostitallbecausehemissedamoralsteportwentyalongtheway.They’readimeadozenduetotheeconomicordermostabideby.It’sthosethatdon’t—likeus—thatmaketargetingabreeze.FollowingfastaccumulatedfortunebydirtydeedsledmetoTimothy.
Clickingonthecornerviewofthefloorofhishigh-riseoffice,I’mampedtodiscoverIcanmakeouthisexpressionashescansmycarefullyconstructedloveletter.
Timothy,amanofrelativelynewwealthandpower,willgodownoneoftwoways—oneofthemmostlikelygrave.
Justashefinishesmyintricatelytailoredmanifestoforhisnewlifedirection,hetosseshisbreakfastintohistrashcan.Searchingdeep,Ifindabsolutelynofuckingempathyifhechoosesdoornumbertwo.
Ifanything,I’llresteasierknowinghisfourteen-year-oldstepdaughterisnowsafefromanotherlate-nightattack.Thepaycheckwe’reabouttoreceive—ifheoptsfordoornumberone—willonlybeabonus.
Ayearago,Iwouldhavethoughtthisamuchbiggervictory.
Butnow?
ComparedtowhatI’mupagainst—alongwiththevisionsI’mminutebyminutetryingtotampdownfromplayinginaloop—Timothy’sdemisefeelsinsignificant.Eyeingtheclock,IdecidetoworkalittleontheBuick.Rollingbackfrommydesk,Ipulloutmyearbudsandtense,swearingthatIfaintlyheardCeceliacallmyname.
“Dom!”Ceceliabellowsfrombelowasthefrontdoorslamsdownstairs.Ididn’timagineitortheshakeinhervoice.Pulseelevating,Irushoutofmybedroomasshecallsformeagain,theurgencyinhersummonsunmistakable.I’mhalfwaydownthestairsatthelandingwhenshespotsmeandfliesintomyarms.Ibarelymanagetocatchher,mybackhittingthewallbehindmeassheburiesherfaceinmychest.
“What’swrong?”She’sfull-onshakinginmyarmsasIflitthroughalistofscenarioswhilemyheartcontinuestopound,thehammeringbeatinmyears.
“Cecelia,whathappened?”Gentlypryingherawayfromme,Iexamineherfromheadtofootandseenosignofinjury.Thethoughtoccurstomethatmaybeshe’sdiscoveredthetruthaboutus—aboutmeandherfather.Butshecan’tknow,orshewouldn’tbeclingingtomethisway…unlessit’spity.It’swhenshelooksupatmethatIseenothingbutappreciation.Beautifulfeaturestwisted,mascarastreaksliningherface;Ipalmitbetweenmyhands.
“What?”Iaskagain,furiouslywipinghertearswithmythumbs.“Whathappened?”Ipromptasherfacefallsagain,andasobburstsoutofher,thesoundofitcrackingmyinsides.
“Jesus,tellme,”Idemand,mytonestern.I’veseenhercrysilentlywhilewatchingmoviesorafterfinishingagoodbook,butthisiscompletelydifferent.
“Cecelia,”Igritout,“I’mabouttwosecondsawayfrom—”
“You,whaty-youdoforthem,”shemurmurs,pullingback.“Iw-wentw-withTylertodaytod-deliverthechecks,andI,”herlipquiversasshestaresupatme,anotherteargivingwaytoanother,herexpressionhittingwiththeimpactofasledgehammer—amixofadmirationandadoration,forme.“Whatyou’vedoneforthem,Dom,it’sincredible.”
“Cecelia,”Igruntasreliefcoursesthroughme,“It’snot—”
“No,”shescolds,furiouslyshakingherheadasTylersauntersinbehindher,hislipstiltedinamusement.Inarrowmyeyesathimoverhershoulder.Heshrugs.“Don’tlookatme,man.Shefigureditout,”hesighs,“she’sbeenlikethisallday.”
HelaysaconsolinghandonCecelia’sbackwhilepassingusonthewaytohisroom.“Seeyousoon,beautiful.”
“T-thankyoufortoday,Tyler,”Ceceliasniffs,herrespect-filledgazefollowinghimuntilheclearsthestairsbeforeshezeroesbackinonme.
“Youdon’tgettodownplaywhatyou’redoing,Dominic.Youdeservetoknowhowyou’rechangingtheirlives.”
ShegripsthehandIhavepalmingherface,herneedtoexpressthistomeoutweighinganyofhertypicalemotionalsidesteppingformycomfort.“You’resavingthem—”Shecrumblesagain,andit’sthenIrecognizejusthowpersonalthisparticularcluberrandwasforher.Wipingmoreofhertearswithmythumbs,itbecomesclearthatshe’srelivingyearsofrepressedacknowledgmentoftheneglectsheenduredathermother’shands.Gentlygrippingherarm,Iusherherupthestairsandintomyroom,sittingherattheedgeofmybedbeforekneelinginfrontofher.Afewsecondstickbybeforeshecollectsherselfenoughtospeak—hereyesglossoverwithmemory.
“Iw-wasfivethefirsttimeIrememberithappening…thefirsttimeshegotlostinherheadandcheckedout,”shesniffs,hervoiceraw.“It’slikesheforgotIexisted…hereyes…itwaslikeshewaslookingrightthroughme.Youcouldtell,youcouldfeelherpain,somuchpain,”hervoicecracks.“Idon’trememberhowlongitwenton.WhatIdorememberisherlyingonthecouch,dayandnight.Shedidn’tmove,Dom.Shedidn’tchangeclothesorshower…WhenItriedtotalktoher,itwaslikeshecouldn’thearme.Irememberthinking…”sheshuddersasanotherloneteartracksdownhercheek.“…ThatmaybeifIswepttheflooranddidthedishes,itmightmakeherhappy.”
ThegapinmyribcagewidensasIimagineCeceliatryingtoworkabroomhandletallerthanshewasandstrainingonhertoestododishesinasinksheprobablycouldn’treach.
“Iatewishsandwiches,”sheadmitssheepishly,bodyshakingasshestrugglestoquiethercriesenoughtospeak,“doyouknowwhatthoseare?”
“Yeah,”Iwhisper,alltooaware,“whenyouwishtherewasmoreinbetweenthebreadthanjust—”
“Cheese,”shefinishesasweshareasadsmile.
“Untilthecheeseranout,andthenitwasketchupandbread.”Herdeepblueeyesfinallyfocusonme,pinningme.“Shetried,Dom,shereallydid.Sohard.Herhighswereamazing—someofthebestmemoriesIhave.Butherlows—herspells—theywouldalwayssetusbacksofarthatshe’dspendhertimebetweenthemplayingcatchup.”
Herlipsquiverasshestaresatmelongandhard,pryingdeeperbeforeshespeaks.“Iknowyouknowwhatitfeelsliketobeinvisible…tohaveasickparent.Tosufferandconstantlyworryaboutifthelightswillgetcutoff,orifyou’llhavelunchmoneyoreatatall.IsawitthatnightIwasthere.Ifeltitintheatmosphereofthathouse.Thedesperation,”sheholdsapalmoverherchest,“becauseitlingersthere,it’sinthewalls,andIrecognizedit.Ilivedthroughittoo.”
Sheweighsmyexpression,andIhavenoideawhatsheseesasmyheartthudsoutofcontrol—herconfessionsstrikingdeeperwitheachone.
Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.
“I-I’msorry,”shewhispers,“Idon’tmeantounloadonyou,itwasjust…todaydidsomethingtome,andasthosepeoplelitup,astheworryeasedfromtheirfaces…”sherelays,heartineverysinglesyllable.“Ihadtocomehere.Ihadtotellyouthatyouprobablysavedsomeinvisiblekidfromasimilarfatetoday.Kidslikeus…orsomeonelikemymomwhowassick,andisstillsick,andtoofuckingbroketogetthehelpsheneeds.”Tentativelyreachingout,shepalmsmyface,slowlyrunningathumbalongmyjaw.“Doyouknowthat’swhyI’mhere?”
Ishakemyheadbecauseit’sthetruth.AllIknewwaswhatwasintheemail.Seanhadn’ttrustedmewiththis,buttobefair,Ihadn’teverlethimgetfarintellingmemuchaboutCecelia.Thoughthehouseisequippedandtapped,Ihaven’tlistenedinsincethedayIpickedherup.Romanhasn’tbeenback,soI’verespectedherprivacy—evenwhencurious.
“I’mhere.IcametoTripleFallsbecauseshe’ssick.ShewentintoadeepdepressionjustafterIgraduated.Shejustcouldn’tfunction,sowhenRomansenttheinvitation,Icouldn’tsayno,Dom.I’mdoingthisforher.I’mheretogetaninheritance,todothesamethingyou’redoingforsomanyothersthatneedthehelp.”Shemovesinandpressesaslowkisstomylips.“Ijustcouldn’t…”herblueeyesshinewithasinceritythatlevelsme,“Ihadtocomehereandmakesureyouknowthatyou’reagoodman,Dom—anincredibleman.”
Pullingherhandaway,Ishakemyheadinrefusal.“I’mnot,Cecelia,don’tbelievethenarrativegoingoninyourhead.It’syouremotionsplayingtricksonyou.”
“Bullshit,”sheretorts,shakingherownhead,refusingmystatement.
“Don’tputmeonsomenonexistentpedestal,”Iwarn.“I’llonlydisappointyou.”
“Please,”shebegs,stoppingmyretreat,“please,just…justacknowledgethatyou’rehelpingpeople.Desperatepeoplewhoneedit.Giveyourselfthatmuchcredit,okay?”
Inod,mythroattight.“Okay.”
“I’msorryIunloadedonyou,”shesniffs,wipingherrapidlyflushingcheeks.“YouprobablythinkI’mcrazy.”
“Youdoleakalot,”Iflashheragrinasshelooksoveratmewithoutatraceofhumor.
“Iseeyourheart,Dom,Iseeit—andit’sbeautiful.”
Bitingmylip,Istand.Sheglancesaroundlikeshedoesn’trememberhowshegothereasIgothroughthesamemotions,chestrawandaching.
Shestandsandshakesherheadironically.“God,I’mamess.I’mgoingtogocleanupformyshift.”Lookingupatme,sheliftsandpressesaslow,emotion-infusedkisstomylips.Idon’tcatchherpartingcommentasshewalksout.I’mstillstandinginthemiddleofmyroomwhenshestartshercar.
“Ihavelivedagreatdealamonggrown-ups.Ihaveseenthemintimately,closeathand.Andthathasn’tmuchimprovedmyopinionofthem.”—LePetitPrince,AntoinedeSaint-ExupéryCeceliarushestowardmyCamaroanddowntheporch,dodgingafewroguedropsoflingeringrainasIpushopenthedoorfrominsidethecabin.
Asshesettlesin,heraddictivescentgreetsmealongwithhersoft“Hey.”
“Hey,”Iecho,asshecornersmewithherusual“missedyou”whilesecuringherselfintotheancientseatbelt.
“Iwon’tscareyoutoday,”Ilie.
“Liar,”shespurtswithasarcasticlaughasIstartrollingoutofthedriveway.
Glancinginmyrearview,Roman’sestatestartstoshrinkbehindus—whichisfitting,seeingashowourprogresswithhimisstillatastandstill.AsIeyethemansionintherearview,Ceceliafollowsmygaze,andItensewhenshespeaksup.
“What’sthis?”Sheasks,curiouslyeyeingtheofferinghangingfromtherearview.“Oh,myGod,Dom…isthiswhatIthinkitis?”
“It’snobigdeal,”Iinterject,“just—”
“—acrownmadeofhoneysucklevines,”sheadmonishesasthoughI’vejustgivenhertheHeartoftheOceanfromtheTitanic.Iinwardlygroanasshestartstogush.
“It’ssobeautiful,”shemurmurs.
“It’sedibleweeds,”Icounter.
“It’sincredible,”shedonsherselfinmyperipheral.“Dom,youreallymadethis?”
“Well,seeingastheydon’texactlysellthemattheTexaco,yeah.Stopactingsosurprised.I’mnottheanti-Christ,”Isnap.
“Sincewhen?”Shechuckles,andIturntoseethevinesIfastenedintoamakeshiftcrown,flowerbudsout,perchedandfittingperfectlyatopherhead
“Youlookridiculous,”Ijest,downshiftingforspeedbeforeglancingtoseehereyeslitwiththatsamedamnedlook.
“Youmademeacrown.Ican’tbelieveyoumademeacrown,”hervoicewobbles.
Ipalmtheairinfrontofher.“Don’tmakeabigdealofit.IwaswaitingoutsidePeter’shousethismorningandgotbored.”
“Youweretotallythinkingaboutme,”shesighs.
“Jesus,”Imutter,“nogooddeedgoesunpunished.Seriouslyit’snotabigdeal.”
“Well,itistome,”shewhispers,“butyouknowthat.Thankyou.”
Knowingshe’sitchingtotouchme,Iturnuptheradioanddownshift,feelinghereyesonmetheentirewaytothespot.Idon’tevenhavethecarparkedbeforeI’mattacked,andshemakesaverybigdealofit.
This.Damned.Girl.
Typingoutmycommand,Ifeelherever-presentheavystareonmyprofile,summoningmefromwhereIsitinmycampingchair.Wearingnothingbutboardshorts,I’vebeensoakinginsomemuch-neededsunbetweentheblanketedcloudsafterdaysbehindmymonitor.“You’renevergettinganotherpresent,”Istate,asshecontinuallyperusesme.“Facts.”
“Oh,shutup.Thenoveltyhascompletelywornoff.”
“Goodtoknow,”Isay,typingoutanothercommand.
“That’salie,”sheadmits,gentlysecuringhercrown.
“Wellthen,keep‘emcoming,”Isnarkasasilentbeatpasses.Thentwo.
“What?”Iask,unabletoignoreheroutright—afeatthat’sbecomenexttoimpossible.
“It’sSunday,Dom.Takesometimeoff.”
“Todowhat?”
“Torest,”shesighs.“Youworksohard.Betweenthegarageandtheday-to-dayof,”sheeyesmycomputer,mutinganymentionoftheclub,“it’salot.”
“Gladyouappreciateit,”IsmirkovermyscreenwhilegrabbinganeyefulofherasshelaysoutononeofthepicnictablesatourMeetupspot.Abandonedbookbesideher,honeysucklecrownon,hersun-bronzedskinglowsunderthesunrayspeekingthroughthehoveringclouds.She’sinascrapofacroptopwhichgivesmeanampleviewofhercleavage—especiallywhensheturnsonherside,andhersculptedtorsoandlonglegsarefuckingmouthwatering.It’sdefinitelyascreensaverworthoptingforinlieuoftheoneinmyroom.Shesmilesasshecatchesmeoglingher,longhairspillingoverthesideofthetable.
Theunguardedaffectioninherstareunsettlesmebutalsomakesitimpossibletotearmyattentionaway.Nowomanhaseverheldsomuchammunitionagainstmewithasinglelook.
SensingI’mtakinghersuggestedbreak,sheliftsfromthepicnictableandwalksovertome,gentlypullingthelaptopfrommygripbeforewalkingitoverandsecuringitbackintotheCamaro.“Wasthatnecessary?”
“Yes,becauseIhaveaconfessiontomake,”shestates,stalkingtowardme,seeminglyonamission.Dreadracesthroughmeasherlipslift,unphasedbywhateverreactionshesees.“Don’tlooksoscared,Dom.It’snotwhatyou’rethinking.”
“I’mnotscared.”
“Lie,”shetauntsasshebypassesthetableanddrapesherselfacrossmylap,longlegshookedonthearmofmycampingchair.Runningherhandsovermysweat-slickedskin,sheleansin.“Here’smyconfession…IknowwhatI’mholding,”shemurmurs,“Iknowhisworth.”
ThesameconfessionIgaveherduringourfirstdaytogether.Adaywhenmyresentmentwasfullyrippedaway,andallIcouldseewasCeceliaforwhoshereallyis—thewayIseehernow,asayoungtenderwithaheartfullofaffectionandasoulspunfromgold.Asdramaticasthatassessmentfeels—it’sspotfuckingon.She’saliving,breathingreminderformethatthereisgoodleftintheworld.
“Youtrulydoworksohard,”shemurmurs,palmingmyshoulders,“youshouldplayhard,too.”
“Ithinkyou’reawareofjusthowhardIplay.”Iliftmyhipsforemphasis,butasusual,sherefusestoletmebatthesentimentaway.“Thatwassopredictable.You’renotthatguy.”
“Youshouldn’tthinksomuchofme,Cecelia,”Isayonanexhale.
“Tellmewhy.”
Becauseeveryfuckingdayyou’remineisadayIdeceiveyou.
“I’macriminal,andIdowhatcriminalsdo.Lie,cheat,steal,deceive.”
“Maybe…butyoualsoprovide,gift,andinspire.”
“That’slaughable.”
“Youinspireme,”shewhispers,pressingsoftkissesalongmyjaw.
Howinthefuckdoesshemanagetodothiseverysingletime?Evoketherawinme?Moreimportantly,whydoIallowhertocornermeintoit?AgiftofhersI’mnotatallfondof.Thesincerityinherwordsandexpressiondemandsnolessthansincerityinreturn.Sheexposesmeconstantly,tothepointthatIwanttosearchforaquickescapewhilesimultaneouslyfuelingmewiththedesiretogetclosertoher.
It’sfuckingwitchcraft.Andallshe’sbeingishonest.
Evenifmyownwordsarecontinuallytryingtofighttheirwayoutofme,Ican’tandwon’tutterthem.
Shepressesalongmyshoulders,massagingthemasbestshecan,andpausesbetweenthemtothetightnessthere.“Whatisthis?”
Ishrug.
“Whatcausesthis,Dom?Whatfrustratesyousomuchthatyourbodybetrayswhatyoumasksoincrediblywell?”
“Likeyousaid,Iworkhard.”
“It’smorethanthat.Whatareyoucarrying?”
“YouknowIcan’ttellyou.”
“Youcantellmeanything,”shecounters.“Iwillkeepyoursecrets.Everyoneofthem.Especiallythesecretswemaketogether.Ithink,no,Iknowyouknowthat,oryouwouldn’thaveletSeantakemetotheMeetupandgivemethechoice.”
“Whichyouhaven’tmade,”Itellher,hatingthedirectionofthisconversation.
“It’sahugedecision.”
“Ithoughtyouwouldrun,”Iadmithonestly.“I’mstillwonderingwhyyouhaven’t,andI’mnotgoingtoconvinceyounotto.”
Thesafestthingshecoulddoissaynoandgetasfarawayfromusaspossible.IfIwasn’tsofuckingselfish,that’swhatIwouldtellher.WhatIshouldtellher.
Self-preservationseemstoranklowwithher,andmaybesheshouldbetold.Buthereyesmuteme—asdoeshertouch.Idon’twantheranywhererightnowthat’snotwithme—lookingandtouching.Itfeelstooperfect,evenasIrobhertrustblindandsoakinhermisplacedloyalty.
“Tellmewhatthisis,”shewhispers,runningherfingersovertheknotsbetweenmyshoulders.
“It’sfrustration.”
“Aboutwhat?”
Ishakemyhead.“ThingsIsee,whatIfeel,whatIbelieve,andmostlywhatIcan’tcontrol.”
“Suchas?”
Thinkingonit,Isinkintohermassageasshewaitspatientlyforananswer.Evenasshecaressesmeintoalull,mybodyandsensescomealive,awareofeverytickingsecondinthepresent—therustlingtreessurroundingus,thefeelofgrassatmybarefeet,thebeescirclingbeneathacornerofthepicnictable.It’smyfavoritegiftfromher—theabilitytoropemebackfromthedarknessintoacuteawarenessamongstthelandoftheliving.
Fuckingvoodoo.
She’sgivenmesomuchofherself—hercareandattention—thatImullmywordsovercarefullyandgivehernothingbutcompletehonestyinreturn.
“It’sliketheveryfirsttimeyoutakeoffinaplane…you’respeedingdowntherunway,exhilaratedwhenyou’recaughtbyair,andascending.Minuteslater,you’resostunnedyou’reflyingthroughtheclouds,takingpartinanexperiencesoincredibleit’salmostimpossibletobelieve.Asthatinitialbuzzrunsthroughyou,youstareoutthewindowandgetyourfirstgoodlookatthelandscape,onlytoseeit’slitteredwithlinesthatactasborders.So,youstartreasoningwithyourselfthatlanditselfisownedandmeasured,butyouneveronceexpectedtoseeitandhowunnaturalitlooksTheviewofthelineskillsthevibeentirely,theimpactsojarringitdestroystheideaofflyingforyou.”
Cloudcoversetsin,andIcatchaglintofembarrassmentinhereyes.“Igetwhatyou’resaying,butI’veneverbeenonaplane…wenever…youknow,hadthemoney.”
Itipherchinupwithmyfingerbeforetracingherjawwithmythumb.“There’snothingtobeembarrassedabout,Cecelia,IwasonlyayearyoungerthanyouarenowthefirsttimeIgotonaplane,anditwastogotocollege.”
“Itdoesn’tmatter,”shesays,shakingitaway,“tellme.”
“I’mgladyoutoldmebecauseitperfectlyreiteratesmypointandisexactlywhereatonofmyfrustrationlies.”
“Howso?”
“Becauseofthedivision—thewaythelinesweredrawn—somanyaspectsofyourlifeweredecidedbeforeyouwereborn.Youraccent,howandwhereyouwouldobtainyoureducation,yourexposuretoreligion,hand-me-downbiasfromthosewhoraiseorinfluenceyoubetweenyourlines,andanyadvantages.Nomatterwhereorwhoyouare,it’sthesamescenarioforeveryone,forbetterorworse.”
“So,flyingistheideaofAmerica?”
“Exactly.”
“Butlookingdowniswhat?Government?”
“Lookingdownfromaboveisseeingwhatmanydon’twantustosee.Thosecontinuallylayingdownthelines—orcontrollingthepeoplethatdo—wanttokeepusblind.Oblivioustothesystemthatcontinuallysetssomanyofusupforfailure.Alotofusaresocaughtupinthestrugglejusttosurvivebetweenthelinestofuckingcarewherewefitintothegranddesign.Somanyothersaredistractedbyfightingontheedgeoftheirlinetoholditthattheyneverunderstandtheconceptofflying.”
Iletoutaslowexhale.“It’ssofucked.Themappingwasdoneovertwocenturiesago,andwegotitwrong.Themoreweforgetflyingexists,themorelinesaredrawn,andwegetdistractedbyit,thestrongerourcagebecomes.It’sbecauseofthelinesofcontrolthattruedivisionwascreatedinthefirstplace,andit’sescalating.”
Shestaresatmelongandhard.“So,howdowefixit?”
Islidemythumbalonghercheek.“WhothehellamItoevenbegintothinkIcansolvethat…butwecouldstartbyignoringtherabbitthathasusrunninginfruitlesscircleswhilegunningforeachother’sthroats.Thenmaybewecouldlifteachotheruptogetaglimpseofthetrueview.”
“Buyeveryoneaplaneticket?”
“Exactly,that’sallI’mtryingtodo.”
“Isthatevenpossible?”
“Idon’tknow,”Iadmithonestly,“butitseemslikewe’renotfarawayfromwherewestartedanymore,soit’sworthtrying,isn’tit?Maybesowecantakebackchargeofthemap,but…”Iswallow.
“Butwhat?”
“FromwhatI’mseeing—whatIcanprove—it’sfuckingterrifying.There’sapowerfulgroupofpeople,several,whowillstopatnothingtomakesureweremainblind.Wemighthaveachanceifthey’reknockedoutoftheequation.”
“Ourcountryisbroken,”sheasks,hereyessearchingmine,“irreparable,isn’tit?”
“Isthatwhatyouthink?”Araindropfallsfromthesky,skatingdownherleg,andItraceitspathwithmyfinger.
“Sometimes,whenIlookatyou—howangryyouare—sometimes,Ithinkthat’swhatyouthink.Icanfeelitfromyou.”
Thehelplessness,utterhopelessnessI’vefeltoverthelastmonthshasn’tgoneunnoticedbytheonepersonI’verefusedtoshowanyofmycardsto,andstill,sheseesme.
Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.
Becauseshedoesknowme.
Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.
Theroarinmychestintensifiesasshepalmsmyjaw,demandingmyeyes.
“Dom,whenyou…feelthisway,youcancometome.I’llbethereforyou.I’llbethebestfriendyou’veeverhad.”Herblueeyesfillwithconcern,“Youcantalktome,andIwon’t…I’lltrynottoasktoomanyquestions.I’lllisten,I’llbehereforyou,andwecan—”
Icutheroffwithmykiss,soshecan’tseewhat’sbrewinginmyeyesaslightrainbeginstopeltusboth.“Dom,”Tobiascallsfromdownthehallbeforeappearingatmybedroomdoor.Loweringmyhardback,heeyesthetitle.“Fresheninguponhistory?”
“Ithinkofitasmoreofa‘whatnottodo’and‘hownottogetcaught’fordummies.”
Hegrins.“Getdressed.I’mtakingyououtfordinner.”
“Iamdressed,”IlookdownatmyT-shirtandjeans,mymuddybootsdiscardedsomewhereonthefloorbesidemybed.
Hegrimaces.“Youdon’thaveanythingnice?”
Iquirkabrow.“Havewemet?”
“Goodpoint,comeon.”Hejerkshischintowardhisbedroom,whichsitscattycornertomine.“I’lllendyouashirt…andpants…andshoes,”hechuckles.
“I’mgood.”
“No,you’renot,”heflicksafingertowardme,“they’renotgoingtoletyouinwearingthat.”
“ThenI’llpass,”Iraisemybooktoresumereading.
“We’recelebrating,littlebrother,andI’mnotinthemoodtofightabouthow,”hegrumbles.“Sodomeafuckingfavorandjustborrowsomeclothes.”
“Fine,”Iacquiesce,followinghimintohisroom.Takingastepin,Iglancearound.It’sthesameasit’salwaysbeen,samefurniture,samesetup.Thedifferenceisthathedoesn’tlivehereanymoreandhasn’tfornearlyadecade.Mostofthoseyears,I’veonlylookedacrossthehalltoseeitpitchdarkandempty.“Whatarewecelebrating?”
“You’releavinginaweekforcollege.Thatcallsforcelebration.”
“Whichincludesfinedining?Yousurethispartyisforme?”Isnark.
“Maybeformealittletoo.Isthatsowrong?”
“ItisifIhavetolooklikeIsteppedoutofMen’sWarehouse,”Iquip,dubiouslyeyeingtheluggageonhisbed.
“You’renotsellingout,Dom.It’sjustafuckingdresscode.”Heflipsopenhisluggage,andIcringewhenIspotacashmeresweater.
“Youseriouslywearthisshit?”Ipilferthroughhissuitcasealongsidehim.
“Yes,Ido,andthedifferenceinfeelandfitisincredible.”
“I’lltakeyourwordforit.”
“Why?”Hetiltshishead.“Thereareperkstobeingamillionaire,andit’stimeyouseetheupside,orinourcase,theflipside.”
“Youdon’tthinkI’mreadyforMIT,”Iconclude.
Hepausesbeforepluckingatightlyrolledshirtfromarowofthematthebottomofhissuitcase.“Idon’twantyoufeelinglikeyoudon’tbelong.”
“Letmesaveyouthesuspense,”Iwidenmyeyes,“Iwon’tblendwell.”
“Dom,I’mnottellingyoutochange,butthingswillbedifferent—thepeople,thenorms,theculture.It’sadifferentenvironment.”
“I’mnotafuckingidiot,hencetheacceptanceletter.Iknowhowtopronouncebigwords,too.Don’tworryaboutme.Betteryet,stopworryingaboutme.”
Hescoffs.“Youactlikeit’sachoice.”
“Itis.I’mallgrownupnow,soyoucanbrushthedustfromyourhands.You’realldone.Icantakeitfromhere.”
“Soeasy,huh,thisgameoflife?I’mhalfwaythroughmytwentiesandstillhavenoideahowtohandlecertainsituations.Everhearthesaying‘ageisnothingbutanumber?’”
“Yeah,butIthinkyou’remoreona‘grassisgreener’triprightnow.”
“Itcanbe.Don’tbesodamnedpridefullittlebrother.Ididn’tevenknowhowtoproperlyfastenanecktieuntilIwasinprepschool.ThemanwhotaughtmesawpotentialinmeandalteredsomeoftheinstilledperceptionsIhadaboutmyselfonanightthatchangedmylife.So,justputthefuckingshirton,andtrytokeepanopenmind.”
“Fine,”Isnatchtheshirtfromhishand.
“Youshouldironit,”headds,shruggingonhissuitjacket.
“That’safuckno,”Igrumble.
HeraiseshispalmsinsurrenderasIfistoffmyshirtandslidethecollaredatrocityon.
Pinstripes.
Shootmenow.
We’recloserinbuildthanwe’veeverbeen,soitfitswellenough.Tryingnottogag,Ishedmyjeansbeforepullingonapairofhischinos.Whenmyshirtistuckedin,Tobias’sexpressionresemblessomethingakintoprideashereadsmydiscomfortandchuckles.“Okay,maybeweskipthebowIhadpickedoutforyourhair.Trynottolooksomiserable.We’regoingtohavefun.”Hiseyesdip.“Shoestoo.”
Hepullssomeloafersfromhisbag,andIjerkmychin.“Not.Fucking.Happening.”
“Wearthem,”hemuses,“Ipromisenoneofyourfriendswillseeyou.”
“Sean’snotcoming?”
“No,Tylereither.You’llbealoneincollege…atleastatfirst,”heremindsme.
Theweightofthattruthdoesn’tsitwell,andhepouncesonit.“That,thatrightthere,isthewholepointoftonight.”
“Thoughtitwasacelebration?”Istarttounbuttontheshirt.“Notreallyinterestedinyourlittleexperiment.”
Heswatsmyhandstokeepmefromundressingandsighsmynameinfrustration.
“Here’sanidea,”Imutter,“howaboutjustallowingmetogothroughshittofigureitoutformyself?”
Withthesnapofacufflink,hispatiencefollows.“Becauseyou’vegonethroughenoughonyourfuckingown!”Thelightinhiseyesdimsasherunsahandthroughhishairinexasperation.
“Allright,bigbrother,noneedtogetemotional.”Iflashhimallmyteeth,andheglaresatmeinreturn.
Threehourslater,Tobiaslaysdownacardforthethree-thousand-dollardinnerbill—mostlyduetohisvariouswineselections.We’veliterallydinedlikeournamesake.Ourglassesnevergotclosetoempty—wineorwater—aswewerecateredtolikeinfants.
“So?”Tobiasprompts,lookingpleasedwhilesippinghiswine.
“Sowhat?”
“So,wasthatnotthebestfuckingfareyou’veevereaten?”
“Sure.”Ishrug.
Hetosseshispressedlinennapkinontohisemptyplateassilverwareclinksaroundus,alongwithhushedconversation.Lookingrelaxed,it’sclearhe’sinhiselement.Afterthankingthewaiterfortoppingoffhiswine,Tobiaspinsmewithhisstare.“Wegrewupgutterrats,andyoujustatefromatastingmenudesignedbyoneofthebestchefsinthecountry.Whyareyousopissedaboutit?”Heshakeshishead.“Tellme,Dom,whatdoesimpressyou?”
“Awoman’sflexibility,”Ismirk.
Hesipshiswine,unimpressed.“That’sSeantalking.”
“I’lltellyouwhatdoesn’timpressme—wastingthreethousanddollarsonfermentedgrapesandsautéedvegetables.”
“That’sDelphine,throughandthrough,”hedismisses,“tellme,Dom,whereisyourvoice?”
Iglareoverathim.
“Don’tbeoffendedthatyou’reachameleon.Youchangecolorstoblendwiththecompanyyoukeep,anditonlyprovesjusthowintelligentyouare.Butyou’veallowedotherstogiveyoutheimpressionandcurrentideaofwhatyoudeserve.You’vebeendodginglooksyourwholelife,”hesurmises.“TheglaresfromDelphineforbeingareminderofourparents’deathsandtheorphansshewasforcedtotakein.Theattentionandcrueltyyougarneredforbeingapoorkidwearingill-fittinghand-me-downs.Thelooksyoudrawnowforlashingoutbecauseyourgrudgeagainsttheworldissoobvious…Jesus,youhaven’tevennoticedthethreewomentoourleftwho’vebeeneyefuckingusforthelasttwentyminutes.So,whileyoutalkagoodgame—andhaveahealthyamountofconfidencetobackitup—youdon’texactlyknowwhoyouareyetoutsideoftheclub.”
Heleansforward,eyesintentasIrakemyforkovermylastbiteofpureedcauliflower.
“That’sokay,Dom.Ittakestime—alifetimeforsome—butitrequirestrulylivingandexperiencingtheworldoutsideofbooksthroughyourownperspective.LeavingTripleFallsisyourchancetodiscoveryourselfoutsideourmutualpurposeanddecidewhatkindofmanyouwanttobe.”Hepauses,knowinghehasmyattention.“I’msharingthiswithyoubecauseIfeltcompletelyfuckinglostmyfirstyearinFrance.IhadnoideawhoIwas.You’vesurpassedmebymilesinsomerespects,butI’mworriedbecauseyouhaven’tevolvedpastthelimitsyouweremadetobelieveyouhave.Youhavetotry,Dom,foryourself.I’mscaredofhowlonelyyou’llbeifyoudon’t.”
“Idon’tgetlonely,”Icounter.
“Becauseit’sbeensuchaconstantstateforyouthatyoudon’trecognizeitanymore.Youpreferisolationbecauseit’ssafe.”
Iremainmuteasheleansin.“Youcantalktomeaboutthis,brother.”
“Why?”Isnapdefensively.“Becauseyou’remanagingtopulloffthescamsowell?”
“Nomorethananyoneelsehereis.Butyes,I’machameleonandwillremainone,andsowillyou.”
“Isthisdinnersponsoredbyoverusedslogans?Nowit’s‘fakeituntilyoumakeit?’”
“No,”hegritsout.“Alwaysfuckingfakeit.We’vealreadymadeit,butifpeoplecatchwindofthat,they’llonlytrytodragusdown—makeourlivesharderoutofenvy,spite,orboth.So,keepthegrudgebuthidethefangs.Butmakenomistake,”hewarns,“mostinteractionsbetweenhumansarejustaformality.Whenpeopleaskhowyouare,mostdon’tgiveafuck,andthat’sallthatinteractionwithoutsidersis,Dom—aformality.So,don’twasteenergy,time,oreffortonthepeoplewithwhomyou’reonlymeanttoexchangeformalities.It’swhenyoucan’tfakeitwithsomeonewhoconsistentlyshowsupforyouwithoutmotivethatyou’llknowthey’redeservingofallthree.”
Ican’thelpmygrin.“Thismonologueofyoursisabitcliché,don’tyouthink?Likeamobsterdeliveringlifeadvicebeforegettingwhackedorrunoverbyamilktruck.”
Heshakeshishead,tossinginanexaggeratedeyeroll.“Yourconstantvitriolisexhausting,brother.”
“Ilearnedfromthebest,andit’snotlikethis,”Iglancearound,“isreallythatmuchofastretchforyou.Youlikethisatmosphereanddressingthatway,”Ipointout.
Heshrugs.“Ilikeexpensivewineandclothes,andthingsweneverimaginedwecouldeveraffordandnowcan,sowhyaren’tyouatleastallowingalittleofthatin?Youhaven’tspentafuckingdimesinceweaddedzerostoournetworth.Attheveryleast,youneedtoorderanewfuckingmattress,butyouhaven’t,andIknowwhy.Lookatme,Dom.”
Isnapmyeyestohis.
“Pressthroughyourmindsetlimitanddecideyourownpotential.Onceyoufigurethatout,we’llforgeafiresofuckingbig—noonewilleverbeabletooverlookitorescapeit.”
Twistinghisglassstem,hestaresatitcontemplatively.“It’slaughablenowhowcomfortablemostofthemenofourtimeare,”heponders.“Themeninyourhistorybookwhoreallydidsomethingwiththeirlivesandraisedactualfuckingswordsindefenseoftheirbeliefs.Whospilledbloodinthestreetswithoutflinching,declaredthemselvesoutlaws,andsacrificedeverycomfortwhilefearlesslyfightingtothedeath.WhilemorecivilizednegotiationshavebecomepartoftheprogressionfromNeanderthaltothemodernman—whousebrainoverbruteforce—there’ssomethingtobesaidforthosemenofthepast.I’mprettysurethosetrailblazersweren’tgettingregularmani-pedis.”
Webothchuckleasheplucksthebottleandfillsourglasses,abuzzhummingsteadilythroughme.“So,takethistimetolivesomelifeoutsideoftheclubbecauseonedayinthenearfuture,we’regoingtobefightinginthestreets—maybeinmoreexpensiveclothes,armedwithbetter,foolproofplans,butfightingnonetheless.”
“I’lldrinktothat,”Isay,takingaheartysip.Hegrinsasheliftsafingerforthewaiter,whonearlytripsoverhimselfgettingtoourtable.
“Yes,sir?”
Tobiaspushesthecheckbacktowardhim.“We’regoingtohavedessert.”
“Whichone,sir?”
“Everyselectiononthemenu.We’recelebrating,”heboastsproudly.“MybrotherisgoingtoattendMIT.”
“Ah,”themanbarelysparesmeaglance.“Excellent,sir,congratulations.”Thewaitertakesoffasweeyeeachotheroverthetable.
“Idon’tthinkhegaveafuck,”Imuse.
“Hedoesn’t,”Tobiasretortsjovially,“he’sprobablysweatingabouthowmuchofatipwe’regoingtoleave.Evenashrinkshowsupformoney.Nowlookaround.”
Ido.Mylaststopisthetableofwomencurrentlylookingourway.Makingitapointto,IcatchthecomefuckmeeyesofoneofthemasTobiasspeaks.“They’renobetterthanyouare,Dom.Notfuckingoneofthem.You’rethebiggestthreatinthisroom.That’safact,sobelieveit.”
Thewoman’seyesdartawaybeforeIturnbacktoseehimliftinghisglasstotoast.“Tothelonggame.”
“Tothelonggame,”Iparrotasweclinkglasses,thebuzzintensifying.
“Let’splayhard,brother,”hewinksbeforewedrink.
Glassstilltilted,Tobias’seyeslightovertherimashecatchessightofsomeoneovermyshoulder.Tablinghiswine,heabruptlystands.“Ah,finally,Iwasn’tsureyouweregoingtomakeit.”
“Sorryaboutthat,”themanreplies,approachingourtablewithamischievousgleaminhiseyesastheyshakehands.Myowneyestrailoverthemaninrecognitionasheshiftshisfocusonme.Exudingconfidence,heextendsahandinoffering.“Finally,theprodigalbrother.Nicetomeetyou,Dominic.”
Tobiasbeamswithpride.“Dom,thisis—”
“CongressmanMonroe,”Isay,alreadystanding,extendingmyhandandshootingTobiasaconfusedlookasweshake.Inresponse,hegivesmeaconspiratorialwink.
Fourhoursandcountlessglasseslater,Tobiasturnsjustafterexitingandslamsmeintoclosingthedoorofthetowncarhecalledafterourvisionblurredanddoubled.
Releasingme,Tobiasstumblesfurtherbackintotheyard,drawingfromhishipindeclaration.“Engarde!”
Grippinghisnonexistentsword,footstretchedinfrontofhiminalungepose,hearcheshisoppositearmoverhishead,fingersdanglingabovehiscrown.WhenIjuststareathim,hisshouldersdropashisexpressiongoeslimp.“Itmeansdrawyoursword.”
“Iknowwhatitmeans,butdrawingmyswordwillonlyembarrassyouinfrontofthehandmaidens,”Isnort.
“AllI’mhearingisthatyou’retooimpotenttodrawyoursteel,”hetaunts.
“Don’tproject,brother,Ihearithappenstoallmenwithage,andI’mmoreofahand-to-handman,”Ideclare,chargingtowardhim.Feigningasuccessfuldodgeofthethrustofhisinvisiblesword,Itacklehimintothegrass.
“Oof,”hegoesdown,roaringwithlaughteruntilIgaintheadvantageanddeliveranover-playfulbitchslap.
Hiseyesflareinwarningasheknocksmeoff.“Poorform,Dom.Thisisagentlemen’sfight.”
Webothstumblebacktoourfeet,andIraisemyswordandmimichisposture.“Nevergoingtobeagentleman,buttouché,orwhateverthefuck,”Islur.Wedrunkenlyshufflebackandforthacrosstheyardanduptheporchstairs,clashinginvisibleswordswhileknockingovertwoofDelphine’sclay-pottedplants.AsTobiasreachesforthescreendoor,Ilurchforward,deliveringthedeathblow,buryingmysworduntilmyknuckleshithischest.
Hegripshiswound,eyeswideninginmocksurprise.“Soruthless,brother.Astreetfightertoyourcore,rightthroughthefuckingheart,”hesniggerswithpride.
“Gutter-rattith-forith-thou-killith,”Ismirk.
Openingthescreendoor,Tobiasshakeshishead,smiledisappearing,eyesnarrowingwhenheseesthestateofme.“Youruinedmytwo-hundred-dollarshirt.”
“Iconsideritanimprovementanddeservedpunishmentforspendingthatmuchonafuckingshirt.”
“You’reateenagemillionaire,Dom.SpringforanewpackofV-necksandBVDs.”Eyesglazedbydrink,hepatshimselfdown.“Doyouhaveyourkey?Ileftminewiththevalet.”
“Nope.”
“Fuck,”hedropshisheadbeforerappingonthedoor.Notasecondlater,theporchlightcomeson,anditopens,Delphine’snarrowingeyesdartingbetweenus.
“Look,Dom,it’sthemilktruck!”Tobiasroarsbeforeweboththrowourheadsback,laughinghysterically.
Sighingout“imbéciles,”Delphinewidensthedoortoletusin.Scrutinizingusbriefly,sheadjustsherrobebeforeturningtoretreattoherbedroom.
“Non,Tatie,joinus,”Tobiascallsafterher,shruggingoffhisjacket.“I’mmakingbreakfastforbothofyou.”
“Non,”Delphineprotests.
“It’stime,”Tobiassays,unbuttoningoneofhissleevesandrollingitupasheandDelphineshareatensebutsilentexchange.
Shenodstowardme,“heisdrunk.”
“Thenthatmakesthreeofus,”Tobiassnarks,“putonsomecoffeesowecantalkbeforetherestofhispeanutgalleryarrivestocollecthim.”
“Timeforwhat?”Iask,takingtherattlestoolbeneaththecounterastheystarttosilentlyworktogether.AnticipationbuildsasTobiasglancesoveratDelphine,andtheyexchangeanotherloadedlookbeforehepalmsthecounter,hiswordsforme.“It’stimeyouknowyourhistory.Howandwhereitalltrulybegan—andwhereit’sgoing.”
ItwasoneofthehandfuloftimesI’veeverbeendrunk,butIhaven’tforgottenasecond.Inthehoursthatfollowed,Isoberedconsiderablywitheverypassingminute,sippingcoffeewhileDelphinerevealedmyparent’shistory—detailsofwhomtheywereinvolvedwithandinbeforeIwasborn.SheaddedspecificsaboutherownpathandwhateventuallyledhertoTripleFalls.Minutebyminute,mymindbecamemoreblownbyhowmuchtheybothhadbeenkeepingfromme.ThedetailsofDelphine’ssordidpasthelpedmeunderstandsomuchaboutherandwhysheisthewaysheis.
Tobiaslaidouthisplans,hisownrevelationstakingmeaback.EspeciallythesecretthatthecongressmanwhotaughthimhowtofastenanecktieisanoriginalravenTobiasattendedprepwith.Anoriginalonthefasttracktobecomingpresident—andstillis.
Thatmorning,Tobiastrustedmewithhismostheavilyguardedsecretsandhisvisionforourlonggame.Thewayheistrustingmenowwiththefateoftheclub.
He’llneverforgiveyou.
GuiltswallowsmewholeattheactofbetrayalIjusttookpartinbecause,asofrightnow,oneofouroriginalsisonaplaneheadedforFrance.
Thereason?I’mhavingmyownbrothershadowed,hiswhereaboutsreported,soIcancontinuetofuckourenemy’sdaughter.
IfTobiasspotshim,he’llimmediatelybetippedoffthatsomethingisamok—alongwithknowingexactlywhoorderedhistail—whichwillonlyhastenhisreturn.Ontheoffchancehedoesn’tcatchit,atleastI’llknowifwhathe’stellingmeistrue.Iftherealreasonforhislongabsenceistofindhisbirthfather.
IfI’mcaught,Tobiaswillsuffertheworstkindofbetrayalandheartbreakatmyhands.Somethinghedoesn’tfuckingdeserve.
RemorseconsumesmewholeasIshootoffatextthatsaysitall—thatImisshim.ThatIhaveregretsaboutthewaythingsarebetweenus.ThatI’mtrying.Thatnomatterwhathe’sdoingorhowfarapartourcurrentpathsare,onethingforeverremainsthesame.
Alwaysbrothers.
Myphoneinstantlybuzzeswithhisreply—areplythathasmythroatburning.
B:Missyoutoo,littlebrother.
He’llneverforgiveyou.
“Itismuchmoredifficulttojudgeoneselfthantojudgeothers.Ifyousucceedinjudgingyourselfrightly,thenyouareindeedamanoftruewisdom.”—LePetitPrince,AntoinedeSaint-ExupéryI’msomewherebetweenconsciousnessandrestlesssleepwhenmyphonerumblesonmynightstand,andmyeyespopopen.PremonitionstrikeshardasIcheckittoconfirmwhatIalreadyknow.
Dressedinseconds,dufflebaginhand,IpauseatthefootofthestairsbeforebacktrackingtoSean’sroom.Openingthecrackeddoor,IspotCeceliasleepingpeacefully.Chestaching,Isoakinthelookofherwhereshelaysonherstomach—hairfannedoverherpillow,expressionserene,lipsslightlyparted,thesheetrestingjustbelowthesmallofhernakedback.Burningtheimageofherintomemory,guiltthreatensbecausethelasttimeIsawher,I’dbeeninsuchafucked-upstatethatwhenshepoppedherheadintomyroom,Islammedthedoorinherface.Ascruelasthatactwas,Irefusedtoletherglimpsewhatwasfesteringinsideme.Achingwithregret,IripmyeyesawayandmakeabeelineformyCamaro.
Fifteenminuteslater,IfinishscrewingthetemporarytagontotheoldBuickbeforetakingthedriver’sseat.Adrenalinepumping,Ifixtherearviewandpullmysolidblackballcapdown.ThoughI’mthankfulfortheearlymorningblanketofcloudcover,Icursewhenrainbeginstoaccumulateonthewindshield.
Tryingmyluckwiththewipers—theoneaspectIoverlookedwhilerestoringtheeightiesmodelsedan—Isendupathankyouwhentherustedbladespowertolife.Pullingdowntheancientgearshiftatthesteeringwheel,Irollthroughthedebrisofthejunkyard,followingthenarrowpathIclearedinpreparation.NarrowlymaneuveringtheBuickbetweenthecrushed,stackedsedansonmyleftandthesideofthegaragetotheright,I’mfeetfromKing’sparkinglotwhenSeanstepsdirectlyinmypath.
Hedoesn’tsomuchasglanceupashetakespainstakingtimetoproducehisZippobeforelightingthecigarettedanglingfromhislips.
Exhalingasteadyplumeofsmoke,Seanremainsidle,afootfromthehoodoftheBuickasIrolldownthedriver’swindow.RaindingsfromthehallowedcarsstackednexttomewhenhefinallylooksupandpinsmewhereIsitinthedriver’sseat.“Whereyouoffto,brother?”
Withzerotimeforhistheatricsandknowingthere’snowayhe’smovingwithoutananswer,Iexitthecarandstalkovertohim,anxietyramping.“Getthefuckoutoftheway,Sean.Nowisnotthetime.”
“So,I’mguessingyoudon’twantmeridingshotgun?”HescrutinizestheBuickbeforeturningbacktome,tiltinghisheadwithhisquestion.“Whatthefuckisthis,Dom?”
“Whatthisis,istimesensitive,”Igritout,“inawayyoucan’tfuckingfathom,andIdon’thavetimetosatiateyourcuriosityortalkfeelings.”
“Tellme,”hesnapsindemand.
“Tellyouwhat?ThatI’mjustasguiltyasyouarenow,andthathe’llfuckingneverforgiveusboth!That’swhatyouwanted,right?Tohavesomeonetosharetheblamewith?Youwin.Ifuckedher,havebeenfuckingher.”
“Yeah,well,narcissistsblameeveryonebutthemselves,”hedrawlsout,“butneverperceivedyouasoneofthose.”Hetakesanotherlongdrag,browsdrawninconfusion.“Isthisyouspinningout?”Heasks.“Isthiswhatthisis,Dom?Igetthatwhat’sgoingonisheavy—”
“Youhavenofuckingideawhat’sgoingonandhaven’tsinceshegothere.That’sonyou.”MyanxietyrampsasIdartmygazebacktotheBuick,shovinghimbackwhileusingtheonepieceofmentalleverageI’vegottokeephimdistracted.“Sincedayone,youbetrayedyourinkandbrothersandmadeitlookeasy—that’salsoonyou.I’mdone.So,staythehellawayfromme,andwhileyou’reatit,keepherawayfrommetoo.”
Hurtleaksinhisvoicewithhisnextquestion.“Doyouwantmetogiveuponyou?”
“Idon’tgiveafuckwhatyoudo.”
HiseyesdimbeforeheflickshislitcigaretteattheBuickandturnstostalkoff.I’mbackatthedriver’sdoorwhenI’mturnedandpinned,necksnappingtothesideafterSeandeliversapunishingrighthook.“Youdidn’tmeanthat.Anyofit.”
Myjawthumpsashisexpressionhardenstooneofresolutionwhenmymasktemporarilyslips,andherealizeshe’sright.“Stopprotectingmeandtellmehowtofuckinghelp!”
“Getthefuckoutoftheway!”Iroar.“Goddamnit,Sean,letmego!”
“Thentellmeyoucancomebackfromthis,”hiseyesdesperatelysearchmine,andIgivehimaslownod.
“Words,Dom.”
“Ifthisgoeswrongbecauseyouheldmeup,I’llneverfuckingforgiveyou!”IalreadyfuckedupandnarrowlymissedthiswindowbecauseIgotdistractedbyCecelia.Awindowthat’srapidlyclosingasSeanstealsprecioussecondsfromme.ThethoughtthatImightmissitentirelytriggersafearI’veneverfeltbefore.Posturingup,IleeratSeanasIspeak.“Pleasedon’tmakemehurtyou.”
Seanstepsbackinshock,notbotheringtohidethebetrayalhefeelsasheripshimselfaway.EvenasIbreakapieceofus—apieceofhisheart—hepleadswithmebecauseI’mhisonlyconcern.“Meetmeatthegoddamnjunkyardwhenyou’redone.Atleastgivemethatmuch?Whateveritis,we’llhandleit,finishit—together.”
Withadipofmychin,heturnsandstalksoffwithoutanotherword,slammingabaydoorclosedsoIhearit,anunspokenpromisehewon’tfollowortrytostopmeasIracethroughtheparkinglot.
Anagonizinghourandchangelater,I’mparallelparkingtheBuickwhilefranticallyscanningthestreetforsignsofthefly’shatchback.ThankstoSean’sholdup,Imanagedtobeathimhereinamatterofseconds,whichisconfirmedwhenthehatchbackcomesintoview.Isendupanotherquickthankyoutowhomeverorwhateveriswatchingovermewhenacarpullsoutinfrontofhimontheothersideofthebarricadedstreet,andtheflytakesthespotadjacenttowhereI’mparked.
Scanningforpedestriantraffic,Ifindnoneasthefamiliarvibrationrattlesheavilythroughme—somuchsomyhandsstarttoshakeasIpressthebrakeandpulldownthegearshiftjustashestartstoexithishatchback.
Slowlybackingawayfromthecurbtobuytime,Islamonthegaswhenheretrieveswhat’sneededfromhisbackseatandshutsthedoor.Beforehecantakeasinglesteptowardtheauditorium,IpinhimbetweentheBuick’spassengerdoorandhisdriver’sdoor.HiseyeswidenwhenheseesthesilencerattachedtotheGlockIhavetrainedbetweenhiseyes.
“Goodmorning,”Iutterlow,tuggingmyhoodiewithmyfreehandtounveiltheofferingsittinginmypassengerseat.He’sdressedinhisuniform,hissecuritylanyardhangingaroundhisneck.Unzippingthedufflewithmyglovedhand,Iopenittorevealmyoffering.
“Takeitintrade,”Iorder,keepinghisgazeandrecognizingthevoidinsideit.It’slikestaringintoabottomlesspit.IcommithisexpressiontomemorybecauseImighthaveliedwhenIansweredSean.Theremightnotbeanycomingbackfromthis—inonesenseoranother.
Timewilltell.
“Thinkofitasagiftwithmyblessing,”Iprompthim.
Hiseyesdarttothestadiumbeforeflittingbacktome.
“Thetradeisn’toptional,”Istretchmyguntowardhim,myintentclear
“Whoareyou?”Heasks,histimbrehumanizinghim.Hecouldbeanyoneofmybrothers…buthe’snot.
Irattleoffhishandle,andunderstandingcrosseshisexpression.HethinksI’mtheonewho’sbeenwithhimnightlyinthechatroom.Anauseatinggrinspreadsoverthefly’sfaceasheacceptsmyoffering,collectingthedufflebagandleavinghisloadedbackpackinmypassengerseat.Dufflestrappedonhisshoulder,whenheclearsthewindowIfirethreetimesinquicksuccessionandslamonthegas.Hislifelessbodycollapsesontothestreetinmyrearview,confirmingthatnoamountofgluewillpiecehisdiseasedheadbacktogether.WavesofanxietyrollfrommeasItakeallthealleystogetbacktothemainroad,keepingalaw-abidingpedestrian’sspeedevenafterIhitthehighway.
“Dom,”SeansnapsmynameagaintojarmeintotalkingashehassinceIpulledup.ThenoiseroaringinmyheadkeepsmemuteasIwatchthefirerageinsidetheBuick.TheplasticsteeringwheelmeltslikepuddlingclayasItossintheballcap,fuelingtheflameswhilestrippingdown.TossinginmyT-shirt,Nikes,jeans,andboxersintothemix,Igrabtherunninghoseasthemorningsunbeatsdownonthetwoofus.
Merefeetaway,Seanchainsmokes,hisanxietybuildingasIrinsemyselfwiththebarofsoapbeforeusingacuticlebrush,scrubbingtoensurethere’snoresidualsprayonmebeforeItoweloff.Reachingintomypackedduffle,IpullmyboxersonasIglancearoundthejunkyard.Dennyobservesthefire,extinguisherinhand,theonlybirdhereasidefromthetwoofus.Hehasn’tsomuchaslookedourway,wordlesslykeepinghisdistancewhilediligentlyensuringtheBuickIarrivedinneverexisted.Afterfasteningmyjeans,ItossthetowelintothemixalongwiththeduffleitselfanddipmychintoDenny.AfewmoresilentminutestickbybeforeDennyfiresofftheextinguisher,dousingtheflamesasSeanandIstepback.
It’stimeslikethisthatI’mthankfulIboughtthejunkyardwithmymoneyratherthanexpensiveclothes.Anacquisitionthat,tooutsiders,makesperfectsenseinconjunctionwithowninganautoshop.IcredittheinklingthatIhadtomoveinonthispropertyforneedslikethis.
OnceSean’stakenthehintthatconversationisn’thappening,webothwatchonasDennymountstheforkliftand,secondslater,drivestwinprongsthroughthebodyofthesmokingBuick.It’swhenTyler’senginesoundsbeforehisC20fliesintoviewthatIreadymyself,thetruckskiddingtoahaltfeetaway.
“Ididn’tsayafuckingword,Dom,”heassuresme,hiseyesvolleyingbetweenTyler’struckandme.
“Iknow,”Iclipout.
Sean’sstillonmysideforthemoment,mymosttrusted,mybrotherbychoice,andmybestfriendforthesamereason.Thattruthresoundsdeepasherattlesnexttomeinfear.Hisconcern—evenafterI’vedonemyworst—eliminatessomeofthespacebetweenus.“Thefuckdidyoudo,Dom?”
“You’reabouttofindout,”Irelay,gettingagoodlookathimforthefirsttimesinceIgothere,thehazestartingtodispersebeforeIissuemywarning.“Don’tstepinforme.”
“What?”Sean’sbrowsdrawtogetherasecondbeforeTylerfliesoutofthecabofhistruckandchargesme,hisrighthooklandingsquarely,makingmyteethrattle.Unabletowithstandtheforceofit,Istumblebackbutliftmychin,readyingmyselfformore.We’vebeenatthejunkyardforalittleovertwohours,whichmeansthenewshasalreadybrokenwithenoughdetailstohaveTylerdrawingtherightconclusionsandsteeringhimtomywhereabouts.
Stillcluelessastowhatjustwentdown,Seanignoresmyorderandstepsbetweenus,tryingtogetTylerundercontrol.Truthis,ifTylerwantedtohaveanothercrackatme,he’dhavealreadyputSeandownanddeliveredittenfold.Tylerhasyettoshowanyoneintheclubwhathe’strulycapableof.SomethingIadmireabouthim,evenasmymouthstingslikeabitch.
“Whatthefuck!”Heroars,attemptingtopushpastSean,whodividesusnowafterignoringmyrequest.
“Lethimthrough,Sean,”Isnap.
SeansighsandreluctantlyletsTylerby.
“Youfuckingknowwhy,”Irelay,tryingtokeepmytonelevel.
“Wehadagoddamnplan!”Herages,andIcantellhe’sdoingeverythinghecantokeepfromstrikingme.
“Youmadeaplanthatincludesutilizingabrokensystemtodoourjob.That’snotwhoweare.Wedon’tmakecitizen’sfuckingarrests,Tyler.Maybeyouspentonetoomanyyearsfollowingrules.”
“Soinsteadofraisingthosepoints,yougoandfuckitallup?”Hefires,hisheadswivelingtowardSean.
“Don’tlookathim,”Ibark,drawingtheheatawayfromSean,“Iactedalonebybaitingoneofthehooksyouwereplanningoncastingalittleearlyinawaythatcan’tbeignored.Butthiscanstillplayouttoplan.”Istepforward,meetinghisaccusingeyes.“Ijustspedtheprocessupalittle.”
“Whatthefuckishappeningrightnow?”Seandemandsbetweenus.
Tylershakeshishead,hislividstarefixedonmeashespeaks.“What’shappeningisourunhingedbrotherwentrogue,endangeringhisfuckinglifeandfuturewhilesimultaneouslytryingtotakecareofourcrateproblem.”
“Ialteredit,”Iinsistinashitexcuse.“Kickeditintomotionearlyoutofnecessitybecausemyfuckinghandsweretied!”
“Yeah,andwhereareourhandsnow?”HesnapsbeforeopeninghistruckdoorastheBuickiscrushedtodustbehindhim.Reachingintothecab,Iknowexactlywhathisplanis,andasecondlater,thenewsfillstheyard.
“—gunmanfounddeadoutsidetheNorthCarolinastadiumhasbeenidentifiedastwenty-year-oldJoshuaBrown.Authoritieshaveissuedastate-widesearchforasuspectedsecondgunman,whoinvestigatorsthinkmighthavehadalast-minutechangeofheart.Fireworkshowshavebeencanceledacrossthefollowingcounties,Gaston,Iredell,Lincoln,andMecklenburg.Pleasebeadvisedasecondsuspectedgunmanremainsatlargeandshouldbeconsideredarmedandextremelydangerous—”
Sean’seyesflytomine.“JesusChrist,Dom!”
“Don’tlookatmelikeIhadachoice,”Isnapatbothofthem.TheystareatmelikeI’madifferentpersonthantheonewhorodebikeswiththemwellafterthestreetlightscameon,snappedcardsinourroomsuntilthelatehours,andexploredeveryinchofthesurroundingwoodswhilesharingstoriesofthefirsttimewegotourdickswet.
MaybeI’mnotthekidtheygrewupwithanymore.
MaybeIhaven’tbeeninalongtime
Maybethelookintheircollectiveeyesisjustified,andIfocusonTylerasIrelayasmuch.“NeitherofyouwantedtoseethatI’mascapableasyouare,”Isay,knowinghe’swellawaretheotherI’mreferringtoisn’tSean.“YoucanrelaythattoFrancewhenyouupdatehimtoearnyourbrowniepoints.”
Tyler’seyesflareinfinalwarning,andItakeitforwhatitis,alongwiththestruggleinsidehim—knowinghe’snowcrystalclearonthenatureofmine.Whiletheymightstillbestraddlingthelinefromtherealitythatexists—andtheworldwehaveplanstochange—inmymind,I’vebeenlivingfull-timeontheotherside.
“Wecan’tstandidlyby,notwhenitcomestostakesthishigh,”Ideclare,“Youcanlookatmeallyouwantlikethat,butyouwouldhavedonethesamethingbecauseallthreeofusknowwhenwewaitforsomeonetodosomethingnooneeverfuckingshowsup.”
Tylerfullonrushesme,grippingmyT-shirtinbothhands.Nosetonose,hestaresmedown,andIdon’twaver.“We’rethesomeones,Tyler.That’swhowedecidedtobe.”Hesearchesforthecracksinmypsyche,butIhaven’tfeltthemyet.Rightnow,Ifeelnothing,anditmustshowbecausehestepsback,seemingsatisfied,beforereleasingmeandhanginghishead.“Goddamnit,Dom.”
“You’rewastingtimealready,”Iremindhim.
“Thoseplanshavetochange,”hesnaps.
“Theydon’t,”Itellhimashelooksupatme,staringthroughme,hismindracingwithadozenscenarios,tailoringeachtofurthercovermytracks.
“Cameras?”Tylerprompts.
“Blackedouteverythingwithinblocks.Nopedestriansonthestreet.Ididn’tspeed.Idon’tthinkanyonemadethecar,andIdidn’tgetout.”InodtowardthedustedBuick.“We’veowneditforyearsduetoamechanicslien.”
Hegapesatme.“Howlonghaveyoubeenplanningthis?”
“Awhile.”Sincetheflyvibratedonmyweb.
“Fuck!”Tylerslamshisfistonhistruckglaringatme,hisrequestforSean.“Geteveryonetothegarage.We’regoingonafieldtrip.I’llmeetyouthereinfifteenminutes.”
ImovetogetintoSean’sNova,andTylershakeshishead.“Notyou.GotoDenny’sandfuckingstaythereuntilItextyouhome.”HelooksovertoSean.“He’sgrounded.”Tylersnapshisgazebacktome,andIdon’tbothertoobject.He’stheonlyonewhocanvetome,andthere’snofuckingwayaroundit.“Thisiswhatitis,orIbringFrancehome.Don’tfuckingtestmeonthis,Dom.”
Exhausted,Igivehimasharpdipofmychinasheclimbsintohistruckandspeedsoff.Seansparksupacigarette,andIgivehimthewordsIknowheneeds.“I’mokay.”
Dennypullsup,andIroundthecarasSeanremainsidle,studyingmeintentlyforthesamecracksTylersought.OpeningDenny’spassengerdoor,Ijerkmychin.“Go.I’mallright,brother.”
Secondslater,Sean’sspeedingoffinhisNova.DennyremainswordlessasIstarethroughthetreesblurringoutofhispassengerwindow.Onthatdrive,IrealizeI’vefinallyreachedtheplaceI’vebeensearchingfor.AstatenotquiteasblissfulasthepeacefulplaceI’vecometorelyonbutstrongenoughtorecognize—numb.
I’veborewitnesstotwoprimeexamplesthattherearegoodmenleftintheworld.Loyalmen.Faithfulmen.Thoughthievestheymaybebecausethey’vestolenmyheart.—Cecelia,FlockTwodayslater,IstareupatmyceilinginthesamepositionI’vebeeninsinceDennydroppedmeoffhoursago—bootscrossed,backonmymattress,palmsonmystomach.TheheavyrepeatofhisNovajarsmefromthebackdoorsofmymind,andnotaminutelater,Sean’ssilhouetteappearsatmydoor—partiallylitbythestreetlights.Hestandsinwait,noneofhistypical‘littlespoon’quipscomingwhiletheaftermathofthelastforty-eighthoursemanatesfromhim.
“You’vebeenbusy,”Isay,knowingTylerproceededwithourplans—alongwithimprovisations—inanefforttosweepupafterme.WhileIwasonlockdownatDenny’s,LaylapacednexttomeasreportsfloodedtheirTVscreenofthestatewidemanhuntforthesecondsuspectedgunman,me,who’sstillatlarge.HoursafterIfled,Tylerutilizedthebirdshetrustedtodivideandconquer.Theymadegooduseofthegunsweliftedfromthewarehouseinafreeforallofvictimlessgunfire—shootingupabandonedbuildingsandclosedbusinesses.StartinginCharlotte,theywebbedoutinalldirections—fromtheedgeoftheTennesseeborderallthewaytoNagsHeadBeach,leadingthoseinvestigatingonawild-goosechase.
Seanpalmsmydoorframe.“Strokeofgeniustoputthoseprintsonsomeofthebullets.”
We’dalreadydevisedtheplantoputpartialandfullprintsthatweextractedfromSpencerandthedirtymilitaryonhispayrollonsomeoftheshellcasingssothegunswouldbetracedbacktothem.Thetacticismeanttokeepallgovernmentalphabetagenciesandmilitaryinvestigatorsasfaraspossiblefromourcountylinewhilesearchingforthegunsnowinourpossession.Aftertheevidencewasnotsosubtlyplanted,Tylerflaggedoneofourfeatherfedsastowhichlocationstolookforthoseprintstogetthemallinvestigatedandpossiblyindicted.Convictedisanotherstory.Inthat,Ihavezerofaith.
“They’llgetoff,”Istate,toeingmybootsoffbeforenudgingthemoffmybed.
“Worthtrying,right?”
“Whereishe?”MyquestionregardingTyler’swhereaboutsandthestatusofthegrudgehemaystillbeharboringagainstme.
“Notcomingbacktonight,”Seanrelays,“buthehashisringeron.”
Forme.
Idon’taskaboutCecelia,butIcansensewhat’scomingashetakesaseatattheedgeofmybed.“She’swonderingwhereyouare.”
“Lether,”Isnapinwarning,lookingovertohimashecastshisgazemywayandswallows.
“Youknowsheaskedmenottoolongagowhomyherowas—”
“Don’t,”Iwarn,throatburning.
“Thatanswerchangedtwodaysago,”herelayswithouthesitation.
“Ikilledatwenty-year-oldkid,”theconfessionfeelsrippedfrommeasIsayitoutloudforthefirsttime.
“Youstoppedanimminentmassmurder,”heinsists,toneunwavering.“Dennyunloadedhisbackpack,anditwasfuckinghorrifying…hewasgoingtoopenfireonfamilieswatchingfireworks.There’snotellinghowmanylivesyousaved.Yourhandsweretied.Tylerknowsthat—wealldo.Iknowyoucouldn’torwouldn’thavedoneitifyouthoughttherewasanyotherway,andyoudidn’ttakehimdownuntilyouweresure.”
Quietsecondspassastheburncirculatingthroughmychestkeepsmesilent
“Pleasedon’ttortureyourself,”hesaysonalongexhale.“Icanguaranteethatyouneedsomethingorsomeonerightaboutnow,andmaybeyoucan’tputyourfingeronit.Ormaybeyoucan—”
“Shedoesn’tneedtobeanywherenearus,Sean.It’sonlygoingtogetmorefuckingdangerousforallofus.”
“Itried,”hecupsthebackofhisneck.“Thatnight,Itriedtobreakitoffwithher…andIfailed.Icouldn’tdoit.ButIheardyou,”hehangshishead.“Iheardyou,Dom,andI’llrespectwhateverdecisionyoumake.But,”heswallows,“pleaseknowI’msorry,truly,foreverything,”Herunsahandthroughhismattedhair,nodoubtduetotheskimaskhe’sbeenwearingfordaystohelpcovermytracks.“I’llneverbringthissecretupagain,butIwishyoucouldhavetrustedme.”
“Idid…Ido.”
“OnlywhenIforcedyourhand,”hestandsandlooksoveratme,eyesglazing.“Imighthavelostyourtrust,butIwouldhandyoumyfirstborn,Dom,noquestionsasked.Fromhereonout,I’mdoneaskingaboutshityoudon’twanttoanswer,butIhopeyoudon’thavetomakemebecauseIwantthattrustbackifyou’llgiveittome…andheadsup,fromnowuntilFrancecomeshome,I’mnotgoingtoletyououtofmygoddamnsight.”
It’snobigsurprisemysentencehasbeenlengthened,nodoubtoneSeanandTylercametowhileenroutetoplantredherrings.
“Truthis,Iwantthistimewithyou‘causeImissyou,man.”Idon’thavetoseehistearstoknowthey’rethere.“AndyouknowI’mnotaboveplayingfuckingdirtytogetit,sodon’tmakeme.”
“Iwon’t.”Myreplyhashimpausingforanysortofdishonesty.
“Butjustsoyouknow,”hesays,contemptforTobiasclearinhisvoice,“orneedareminder.You’realiving,breathingfuckinghumanbeingandallowedtobehaveasone.”
Idon’tbothertotellhimIwasgrantedthatclaritybytheonepersonintheworldIshouldn’thavegottenitfrom.
“AndyoumightthinkI’mignoranttoit,”heraspsout,“butthenightoftheMeetup,”hisAdam’sapplebobs,“ifhehadreachedme.Ifyouhadn’tstoppedhim,Iwouldn’tbestandinghere,”hisvoicecracks.“IwillneversellyououttoFrance,”heslapsathistears,“hedoesn’thavetoknow.Youdon’thavetocoptoit.I’ll—”
“Ididn’tmeanit,”mywhisperisjustasguttural,andheexhalesharshlyinrelief,fingerstwitchingathisside.Hewantsacigarette,butIalreadyknowwhat’scomingbeforeheputsavoicetoit.“I’minlovewithher.”
“Iknow.”
“So,ifyou’regoingtobreakherheart,you’regoingtohavetodoitalone.”Hisvoiceisrawwhenhespeaksagain.“I’mjustsofuckingsorryImessedusupintheprocess.”Hestaresdownathisboots,runninghisforearmalonghisjaw.“Iloveyou,brother.”
Heleavesthedooropenasmyvisionblurs,andImovetositattheedgeofmybed,staringafterhimbeforecatchingmyhalf-litreflectioninmybathroommirror.
Parthuman,partmonster,andstuckinlimbofortheforeseeablefuture.
I’vealwayslabeledtheotherside“monsters”becauseatleastthenIcouldjustifyslayingthem.Thetruthis,thosemonstersarehumanbeingscapableofdoingunspeakableactsoutsideofmorallines—whereIdwelltostopthem—butpullingthetriggerwasdifferentformethistime,andweallknowit.
Tylerknowsit,Seanknowsit,andeventhoughIknewthatkid’sfuturewasonlycutshortbyanhouratmost—thathewoulddiebyhisownhandorsomeoneelse’s—IwastheonewhosawhimdrawhislastbreathbecauseImadeitso.
Fornow,Ihavetoletitgo.Thelist,theneedtofixwhat’sbrokenbecauseit’sbreakingme.IhavetoacceptwhatI’mcapableof.
OfwhatI’mnot.
Mylimitshavebeenrepeatedlyshowntomeasoflate,andIfeelthatdefeatstarttosettlelowinmygut.
Openingmylaptop,Ipressmypalmtothekeyboard,anditlightsupinafieryredwelcomebeforeIstarttofileitallaway,temporarilylayingittorest—foratimewhenIcandosomethingaboutit.ItfeelslikenothingshortofbloodlettingasIallowitallin.AllofmyfailuresinthelastfewmonthsandtheguiltthatmultipliesdailybecauseIcan’tgetthemall.NomatterhowmuchIwantto.
Maybethisishowmybrotherfelt,waitingallthoseyearsforustocatchuptowherehewas.Ifhedidit,socanI.BecausewhetherI’veoutgrownthemornot,thisismyfamily,andthemensurroundingmearetheonlymenItrusttohelpmeseethisthrough.Untilthetimecomeswhenwe’realignedonthesamepath,readytopullthetrigger,itcan’thappen.
Purgingasfailurerunsdownmyface,Idrowninit,allowingtheemotionstotakeoverwhileImournforthepathIcan’ttraveluntilI’mfreed.ImakepeacewithitbecauseIdon’twantmyeyestoevermatchthevoidIsawintheeyesthatarestartingtohauntme
“Dom,whenyou…feelthisway,youcancometome…”
ButIcan’tanymore.That’sthehardestparttoswallow.
Exhalingduetothestingthattruthbrings,IpluginmyearbudsandscrollthroughmyplaylistforabeatbeforetuningintothemicsplantedinCecelia’sbedroom.LengthysecondsofsilenceensueasIlaybackinbed,herroomjustasquietasmine.
JustasIgotoswitchitoff,Icatchafaintdruminthedistance.Thunder.Thelightpatteringofrainfollows,theclarityofthesoundtellingmesheleftherFrenchdoorsopentonight.Turningmyvolumeallthewayup,Isettleinfortherestlesshoursaheadbutmanagetodriftawayjustasherstormcatchesuptomyroof.
Shroudedinthedark,Isearchthewallforawayinascriessoundfromtheotherside.Pushingagainstit,thescreamsgrowlouder,asifI’mhurtingthembytryingtobreakthrough.Butthat’snotthetruthofit—thatringsclearasechoesofpainandtormentfillmyears,elevatingmypanic.Exhausted,Icontinuetotrytoforcemywaythrough,tomakeitstop.Terrorfiltersinwhenonebyone,thescreamsstarttocutoffabruptly.Asparkoffireflashesinthedistance,andIturntolookforthesource,seeingSean’sprofilebeforeheclickshisZippoclosed.Myshoutforhelpisabsorbedbythepitchdark,myfistsuselessasIpoundonthewall,exertionfutileastheybounceofftheimpenetrablestone.Themoretheircriesdie,theharderIhitandfail.Grittingmyteethwhenthelastwailisstifled,Isagagainstit,knowingI’mtoolate.Lingeringsilencesuckseveryounceofhopefrommewhilemidnightshadowsstarttoweighmedown,paralyzingmeslowlyintheirgrip.Sinkingagainstthewall,Ilandinapuddle,palmssplashingbeforesinkingtothegroundbeneath.Liftingmyhands,Irunwhat’scoveringthembetweenmythumb,myroarswallowedbytheblacknessasmymother’svoicereachesme.“It’sonlyastorm—”
“—storming,Ihopethat’sokay.”MyeyespopopenfromwhereIlayonmystomach,facingmybathroom.Cecelialaysontopofme,justoutofmylineofsight,herweightcoveringmelikeasecurityblanket,hertenderwhisperinmyear.“Icameinfrommyshift,andyouwerealreadyout.I’msorryIwokeyou.”
ThesoundofrainpattersoutsideasItrytogetmybearings,herwhisperpullingmebacktowardherastheshadowsdisperse.
“Wereyoudreaming?Yourarmswerejerkingalittle.”
Comingtofully,IrealizeI’vegottheforearmshehaswrappedaroundmeinatightgripandreleaseit.Imovetogetup,andshepressesagainstme,pinningmetothemattress.
“No,stayinbed,”sheorders,runningherfingersthroughthedamphairatthebackofmyneck.
“Ifuckinghurtyou,”myvoicesoundslikesandpaperandexertion.
“No,youdidn’t.Notatall,”hertonefillswithconcern.“Youokay?”
“I’mgood.”
EvenasIlie,Itakelongdragsofairuntilthepulsepoundinginmyearsstartstoevenout.
“Better,”shewhispers,“wasitanightmare?”
“Idon’tremember.”Morelikemydefinitionofhell.
“Consideryourselflucky,”shemurmurs.“Justsleep,okay?”
FeelingrawandmoreexposedthanIcaneverremember,allIcandoisnodagainstmypillow.Hearingtherustlingassheshedsheruniform,Ilieinwait—eyesclosedasthethinveilofsweatproducedbymydreamcoolsonmyskin
Thatwasmostdefinitelymysubconscious’swarningoftoomuchtoprocess,thedreamfartooeasytopickapart.I’mstillsomewhatbetweenworldswhenthebeddipsasecondbeforeherbarethighslidesovermylowerback,herarmsnakingaroundmebeforethesoftskinofherbreastispressedagainstmybicep.Mybodybecomeslaxasherscent,herskin,andhersoothingtouchlullmealongwithanothergentlewhisper,“You’resowarm.Alwayssowarm.Imissedyou.”
She’scomeformeagain,constantlyshowingupformewithoutmotivebecauseshe’sworthmytime,effort,andattention.SomethingI’veknownfarlongerthanI’veleton.Theurgetolosemyselfinherbeginstohum,butIdon’tmove,tooweak,drainedfrommydreamwhileknowingtheillusionI’mfeedingintowithherisabouttocometoanend.
MythroatconstrictsatthecomfortshebringsandthefactthatthisisthelasttimeIcanlosemyselfinit.ButIdolosemyselfonelasttimeashernailsgentlyrakeupanddownmyspine,pullingmeintoablissfullydeep,dreamlesssleep.
Wakingafewhourslater,dreamforgotten,myroomlitinadeepshadeofpurple,Irouseherwiththesoftpressofmylips.Aslowsmileappearsbeforehereyesdo.Slippingbetweenherlegs,condomalreadysecure,Itakehermouth,theneedtodriveinsidehertakingover.
Cuppingthebackofherheadtocradleit,Idon’tbreakourkissasIpartherthighsandreadyher,swallowinghernoisesandsoakingeverybitofherinasIslowlypressintoher.
Palmingherthighupwithonehand,cradlingherheadwiththeother,Ifuckherniceandslow,tothepointI’mbarelymovinginsideher.Evenwithoutfriction,we’redeeplyfedbyconnection.Whatwasmeanttobeathankyouturnsintosomethingelseentirelyasshewashesawayallremnantsofwhathauntedme.RainticksagainstthewindowasItipover,losingmyselfinraptureforthelasttime.It’sonlywhenI’mforcedtocomeupforairthatIlifttohover.Keepingmyhandbeneathherhead,herthighfirmlyatmywaist,shestaresbackatme,caressingmybicep.Wordlessly,Irollmyhips,chestdetonatingwithtinyexplosionsasshegaspsmyname.It’sthefirsttimeI’veeverwantedtoripmycondomoffandfuckawomanbare.EventhoughIkeepiton,IknowI’mascloseasI’mevergoingtoget.
IknowI’minlovewithhim.Ijustdon’tknowhowmuchofhimIknow.—Cecelia,FlockFeelingtheshiftintemperaturesweepthroughthegarage,ItightenthelastboltonthepieceofshitSubaruI’vebeenpumpinglifeintoforthepastsixhours.Rollingmynecktoeasethetension,Iglancepastthehoodtoseesplatteringraincollectingonthegrease-stainedcementinsidemyopenbay.
Ignoringtheincreasingthudinmychest,IinhalethestenchofMrs.Wellers’Dachshunds,whoallhaveembroiderednamesintheirdesignatedcarseats,andturntheignition,satisfiedwhenitstartswithease.
Pullingthekey,Icloseandlockthebaydoorbeforeheadingintothelobbytofinalizetheticket.Rainpoundstheroofasthesteadythudinsideincreases—areminderIignoreasIpullmyphonefromthesafetoseeamissedtext,hoursold,fromSean.
S:She’shere.
Fuck.
Theskycracksabove,rattlingthegroundbeneathmybootedfeet,reverberatingthroughoutthegarageandgroundsasIpullthedoorto,andlockit,pausingwhenmyeyeslandonthenameetchedintotheglass.Thesightofitonlyaddingtotheguiltfesteringinmygut.
Asitturnsout,Tobiasissearchingforhisphantombirthfather,Abijah.Theravenfollowinghimconfirmeditwithintwenty-fourhoursafterlandinginParis.
Whichmakestheonlydeceptivebrotherinthisequationme.
Deepdown,Iknewthat.MaybeIwantedhisguilttomakemefeelbetter.AcrimeIaccusedSeanof,whichnowmakesmeahypocrite.
BehindthewheelofmyCamaro,Iscantheinterior,andinthenextsecond,I’mnotalone.IcanpictureCeceliasoclearlynexttome,herlonglegstakingupthefloorboard,hertightbodytuckedintotheseat,anddark,fire-kissedhairfloatingonthebreeze.
Crankingmycartowarmitup,“Tennessee”startstoblarethroughmyspeakers.Turningupthevolume,IscoffatthelyricsasIwait,gazedriftingbacktothewindow,specificallytothename.
Shootingoutoftheparkinglot,songringinginthecabin,ironystrikesthatmypredicamentisalmostfuckingpropheticatthispoint.ApartIaccusedSeanofplayingasthequilledpenswivelsbackinmydirection,mockingme.
I’mnoRomeo,buteverythingaboutthisshitshowhastodowithourlastnames,ourparents,avendetta,andthereasonwhywe’redestinedtoimplode.
So,what’sinaname?
Everything.
Everything’sinaname.AnameItakeprideinbecausemybrothermadeitthatway.Hemadeusfuturerulersfromapileofdiscardedfuckingrubble,andeverytimeIgetdrunkonblueflames,Iruinapartofwhathegiftedme.
Speedingdownthemainroad,Iaccelerateasmymindwarswithmychest.
Attwenty-six,IseethingssodifferentlynowthanIdidwhenIdemandedsomuchofhim.Throwingtantrumsinmyearlyteens,insistinghebemorepresentwhenhewaskillinghimself,andriskinghislifetoprovideforme,andnotjustthenecessities.Hestruggledforyearstogivemealifeneitherofuscouldhaveimaginedafterstarvingforsomany,bothtogetherandapart.
Thefeelinggrowingupinthathouse—especiallyduringthoseyearswithouthim—wasexactlylikeCeceliadescribed.Desperationvibratedfromthosewalls.Theatmospherewassobleakthat,attimes,IthoughtIwouldjustevaporate.Mybrotherdidhisbesttoshieldmefromit,andtothisdayremainsmyprotector.
Hetoedthelinebetweenparentandbrotherwell,ashedoeseverythingelse.Everythingexceptwomen.
I’malmostpositivehe’llnevercareabouttheirplaceinmylife—orhis.
Sonow,inhiseyes,I’vetakenpartintheonlyunforgivablesin.
BecausewhatRomanHornerdidisunforgivable
FuckinghisdaughterandruininghershouldhavebeenagivenandwouldhavedonesomecollateraldamageifRomanbotheredtocareenoughaboutherruin.Asitis,she’sanorphanlikeme.
I’mincapableofgoingthatfar,evenifmybloodcanruncold.Forthemostpart,itstillrunswarm,andCeceliakeepsremindingmeofthat.
ButIamdoingacoldthing—justbecauseI’mnotdeceivingherwithmaliciousintentdoesn’tmeanI’mnothurtingherorwon’t.
She’sdoneexactlyshittodeserveit,too.Forme,she’saccuratelywhatTobiaspredictedawomanwouldbe—asanctuary.
Icanpracticallyhearthesarcastic“Itoldyouso”drippinginFrenchasIspinoutonthefirstturn—thiscallcloseenoughtohavemyadrenalinespikingandsweatdottingmybrow.
“Naw,Sean,thisismespinningout,”Ispit,gassingtheCamaro,takinganothercurve,thecarcatchingontherisingwaterbeforeIshootforward.Inaninstant,mybrother’svoicecutsthroughmythoughtswithawarningtocalmthefuckdown.
SomethingIhaven’tbeenabletodosuccessfullyforlongsincemyangergainedasortofrazor’sedgewithhiscontinuedabsenceovertheyears.Angernosoulonthisearthhasbeenabletofullycurtail—notevenSean.Cecelia’sbeenfruitlessattimes,too,walkingoneggshells,andevenforher,Ihaven’talwayssucceeded.
Forher,Iwantedto.
Ireallywantedto.
ButIhavetokeepthatangerandedge.Withwhatwe’reupagainst,shecan’tsoftenthatforme.She’sstolentoomuchalready.Atthispoint,IresentherasmuchasIwanther,andrightnow,that’safuckinglot.
Takinganothercurve,Ihydroplane,onlyabletocorrectthewheeljustintimetoavoidcertainfuckingdeath.
IusedtoquestionwhyIdon’tfearformyownsafety.Atfirst,IthoughtitwasbecauseIbelievedIwastrash,orattheveryleast,thecharitycaseIsawintheeyesofthosewhowitnessedourneglectgrowingup.NowIknowI’mnot,butI’mdeterminedtotakeoutthetruewastesoflife,thescumoftheearth,therealthreats,andthere’sacosttobeingthattypeofgarbageman.
AcostIknowwillcomesoonerthanlater.Justasthatnotionstrikesme,thefamiliarurgencysetsin—we’rewastingtime.
Icouldfuckingendthisrightnow.Rightfuckingnow.
Withabullet.
Ican’tblameCecelia,andIcan’tblamemybrother.
ButIcanblameRoman.
IcanblameRomanforbeingthebarrierbetweenthelifeIcouldbeliving—unshackled,untethered,andfreelyreigningdownpunishment.AlifeIwantmorethananyother.
Iclickmysignalatthestoplightwhileeyeingmyglovebox.
Myignoranceisnolongerblissbutblisteringme,hinderingmefromtheprogressionjustasmuchasherfather.
One-pointblankshottothatarrogantprick’sskullwillputmybrother’sdrawn-outmissiontorestandgrantmethefreedomIneed.
EvenifIcouldkillhimwithoutremorse,Icouldneverlookather,letalonetouchheragainwithhisbloodonmyhands.
Asimplesolutiontoanoverlycomplicatedproblem.
Bangingmyheadagainstthebackofmyrest,Ishakemyheadindismissal.BecauseofbothTobiasandCecelia,thatbulletcan’tfly.
Trappedbythestoplight,IglimpseMamanthroughthehazecloudingthewindshield,dancingandwavingherhandinencouragementtojoinherbeforesweepingmeintoherholdandswayingwithmealloverthekitchenfloor.
Ablinklater,Ceceliatakesherplace—handoutstretchedformetodancewithherwhereIsitbeneathmywindowsillassheswaysinacloudofsmokeemittedbymyexhale.
WhatI’veallowedtohappenbetweenusisanillusion,oneIboughtinto—that,asoflate,Istartedfeeding.
Tobiassurpasseditall.BulldozedpastDelphine,ourfuckedsituation,allofit,whilemanagingtosticktothegameplanwithoutentanglementsholdinghimdown.Yet,Ican’tmakeitpastthedaughterofthemanIhatewitheveryfiberofmybeing?
Formybrother,Iwill,orelseI’llruineverythingwe’vecollectivelyovercometogettowhereweare.
Ihavetolethergo.
Decisionmade,IspeedtowardtheendofthesecretIcannolongerparticipateinandparkonadimewhenIreachthehouse.
Itendsnow.
Stalkingthroughthefrontdoorandupthestairs,I’mstoppedatthedoorbythesightofherlyingfaceupattheendofmybed,wearingnothingbutoneofmyblackT-shirtsandtinyboyshorts.Hairspillingoverthesideofthemattress,kneesdrawn,abookhoistedateyelevel.Shespotsme,turningonherstomach,hersmilelightinguptheroomashersoul-filledeyesmeetmine.“There’smymotherfucker.”
Fuck.“Hi,”shesays,eyesrollingdownmyframebeforesheboundstowardmewhereIstand,drippingatthedoor.“You’resoaked.”Shelifts,pressingachastekisstomylips.“Whattookyousolong?”
“Business,”Ilie,takingastepinassheblocksmeplayfully,matchingmyfooting.
“Whatbusiness?”Sheasks.
Iliftabrow,andherbrowquirksbeforesherollshereyes.“Fine.Whatever.”
“Whatevermeansyou’renotanaccessoryafterthefact,”Isnap,“secretskeepyousafe.”
“Secretskeepmeinsane.”Sheshiversatthechillfromtheraindropletsspillingontoherwhileclaspingherhandsaroundmyneck.“Imissedyou,”shewhispers,“beenmissingyou…wherehaveyoubeen?”
“Busy.”Grippingherhands,Ireleaseherholdasmystuntedheartthundersbackinadeterminedrhythmwhileherexpressiondrawsinconfusion.DestructionhasbeenmysolefocusforsolongthatIdon’tknowhowtoslowmydesireforchaosenoughtofullygiveherthefewpeacefulpartsofmeIhaveleft.I’veeducatedmyselftothepointthatit’smaddening.Iknowtoomuchtoeverknowpeacelikeotherpeopledo.WhereSeanseesaglasshalffull,Icanonlyimagineshatteringit.I’mtooenraged,toofuckingfrustratedwithallthat’swrong.Allthatneedstobefixed,allthatIwanttofix—tochangethatforanyone,letaloneanineteen-year-oldgirl.
Endthis,King.
Frowning,sherunsherfingeralongmydrawnbrows.“There’stoomuchgoingoninthere.Youwerejustwithme.Whathappened?”
Ishakemyheadandtrytomovepastheragain,andsherefusestoletmepass.“No.Talktome.What’swrong?”
“YouknowIfuckingcan’t.”
“Agh,”shegroansinirritation.“You’retheworstconversationalistinthehistoryofever.”
“Talkfeelingswithyourgirlfriends,Cecelia.I’mnotoneofthem,”IremindherasIoftendo.Guiltthreatensashurtflitsinhereyes,butIbatitawayasIwalkovertomydresserandgrabsomeboxers.ThesecondIunbucklemybelt,Ceceliaplantsherelbowsonthebedandpalmsherface,hereyesfollowingmyeverymovement,andIstarebackather,annoyed.“Youjustgoingtowatchme?”
“Lesstalking,motherfucker,morestripping.Andwhenyougetthoseboxersdown,makesureyouwalkawayniceandslow.”
Ipause,jeansdanglingonmyhips.“You’remakingthisweird.”
Shegrantsmeanexaggeratedeyeroll.“Everything’sweirdforyou,right?BecauseGodforbidyouletasecondofintimacylingerwhenyou’renotfuckingme.YoucankissmesotenderlyasyoutakedownmypantiesandstrokemyfacewhenI’msuckingyourdick,butasecondoutsideoneofuscoming,youclamupasthoughyou’reincapable.So,”sheturnsherfingeraround,“ifI’mstuckwithminimallyinvasiveconversationandthefactthatyoubarelytakeyourjewelryoffbeforeyoufuckme,”sheaddsasIunclaspmywatch,“theleastyoucandoisentertainme.”
“I’mnothereforyourfuckingentertainment.”Islamsaidjewelryonthedresser.
“No?Thenstopholdingbackeverytimewestartgettingcloser.”
“Ifyouaren’thappyhere,”Ishrug,“theguyyouneedisabedroomover.”
Sheleapsfromthebed,expressiondrawnwithcontempt.“Frankly,I’msickoffuckinghearingthat,Dominic.It’sapatheticexcuse.Ifyoueversaythattomeagain,thisisover.”
Shemightaswellhavestabbedmewiththethreat.Andbecauseofthat,itneedstobeover.Ithastobe.
“Ihavetoworktonight,so,”Inodtowardmybedroomdoorindismissalasshestaresatmeforafewbeatsbeforemovingtositontheedgeofthebed
“Huh,”shesays,staringathertoes,“I’mguessingyou’llhavetoworkonthenextrainyday,too?”
Sheslowlyliftshereyes,andIstarerightbackatherasIanswer.“Yeah,Iwill.”
Ignoringthetightnessinmychest,Iwalkintothebathroombeforesnappingthedoorbehindmetomakemymessageclear.Asecondlater,theknobnailsmeintheassassheopensit,andIreelonher.“Whatthefuck?”
“Whatthefuckisright,”shesnaps.“That’sthesecondtimeyou’veslammedadoorinmyfaceinaweek,Dominic.I’vebeenwaitingforyouhalfthenight,missingyoueverydayinbetween,andthisishowyoutreatme?”
“LikeIsaid,”IpointtowardSean’sroom.
“Don’t,”shewarns,“becauseI’mnotbluffing.Don’tfinishthatsentence.Youdon’twantthistobeover.Iknowyoufeelforme…Ijustdon’tknowwhyyou’refightingitsomuch.”Sheblowsoutanexasperatedbreath.“Idon’tknowwhatthehellisgoingonwithyoutwothisweekbecauseyou’rebothactinglikeyou’reonmanperiods.So,I’mjustgoingtoassumetheremustbesomethinginthefuckingwaterthatneedstorunitscourse.”
Iremainmuteassheinhalesadeepbreathofpatience.“Just…takeashower,andI’ll…orderussomefood,okay?”
Westareoffforseveralseconds,andIslowlynod.
Goddamnit,King!
Shewalksovertomeandlifts,pressingherlipstomineassheslowlytugsmyboxersdown.Mycockpointsdirectlytoherasshesearchesmyeyes,grippingmyhandandrubbingoffagreasestainfromthemeatofmypalm.“Business,huh?”
Makingitclearshe’sontome,shesearchesmeforareasonforthedistance,andIgivehernothing.
“I’mfinewithwhateveryou’recapableofgivingme,Dom,butIdon’tthinkcapabilityisyourissue.Youwon’t,or,”sherakesherlowerlipwithherteethasIfuckingrattleinsidewiththeneedtotouchher.
“Ormaybeyoudon’twantto,orcan’ttakemeseriouslybecause…becauseI’mwithSeantoo?”Shesighs.“Ifthat’sthecase,thenIguessthat’sthewayyoufeel,butwhenwe’retogether,Ionlyseeyou.”
Pressingakisstomychest,shedragshernailsalongmydick,andit’sallIcandotokeepfromfuckingher.
Whatthefuckareyoudoing,Dom?Endit!
“Cecelia,”Iraspout,thecadenceinmyvoicetakingmeabackasthelow-lyingburninmychestignitesatthethoughtofwhatfuturerainydayswouldlooklikewithouther.Cuttingwordslingeronthetipofmytongue,andsensingthemcoming,shegivesmeafirmshakeofherhead—refusingthemfrommeforthefirsttime.
“Pizza?Iknowwhatyoulike,”shereleasesme,andIgripherwristandtugherbacktome.
Hernavybluesvolleyandglisten,hervoiceaplea.“Dom,ifwecouldstopthis,wewouldhavealready.YouthinkIdon’tfeelguilty?YouthinkIwantedtofeelforyou?You’reholdingbackwithme,”sheemits,“butIcantellyoudon’twanttonomatterhowhardyoupushback…Icantell.Lieallyouwanttome,toyourself,butIknowbetter.Iknowyoubetter.”
It’sthetruth.Thetotalityofit.I’mfuckingfoolingmyselfintothinkingthatthere’sstillatippingpoint.I’malreadypastit.Butmybrothercan’tsufferforit.Myclubcan’tsufferforit.There’stoomuchatstake
“Whatthehelldoyoureallyknow?”Isnap,steppingoutofherreach.“Letmeclueyouin…whatIallowyoutoknow,whichisnothing.”
Icanseethesecondmyvenomhitsherandballmyfistsastheburnstartstosingethewholeofmychest.
“Iknowyou’reguardingyourselfwithmetothepointit’sstartingtobotheryou.Youwanttobewithme,andyouwon’tletyourself.Justtellmewhy.AndIknowenough,”shesayssoftly,eyesstillpleading.
“Obviously,youdon’t.Dowereallyneedtohavethisconversationagain?I’mnotbitter,orjaded,orfuckingbroken.”Irollmyeyesdownherframe.“I’mjustnotinterested.So,letmesumitupforyou.”Ipointtomychest.“I’mjustanotherbusycriminalthatfucksyou,andyou’reaconvenientfuck.Getyourheadoutoftheclouds.Thereisnous.”
Shecloseshereyesandpressesherlipstogethertoabsorbthestingbeforetheyopen.It’sthesmugupliftofherlipsalongwiththeclear‘youstupidbastard’inherexpressionthattellsmeshedidn’tbelieveawordIjustfuckingsaid—andwebothknowit.
“Okay,Dom,okay,”sheexhalesresigned,chestpumpingalongwiththeslightshakeofherheadinacallofbullshitbeforesheturnsandleavesmethere,annoyed,frustrated,naked,hard,breathless,and…fuckingenamoredTossingmystressballfromwhereIlayonmybed,witheverycatch,Ibegintotickoffthereasonsforlettinghergoasmylimbsgrowheavy,nodoubtduetomylongshiftatthegarage.
Toss.
Brother.
Catch.
Club.
Toss.
Hindrancetoprogress.
Catch.
Liability.
Toss.
Fuckingherthefirsttimewasfuckingup
Catch.
Allowingherintomyspace,mybed…allofitwassenseless,pointless,andunnecessary.
Thunderrumblesasthestormcontinuestorageoutside,andconcernspikesthatshedrovehomeinthisweather.ResistingtheurgetoaskSeanifhe’sheardfromherortuneintothemicsinherroom,Islapoffmybedroomlightandresumemyplaceonmymattress.
Igaveupmyrighttoknow.
Facts.
Endedit.
Pointblank.
Hadto.
Watchingmybedsideclock,alowspikeofadrenalinestartstozingthroughmeastheminutestickclosertomidnight.
Puttingmyearbudsin,Ipressplayononeofmygo-tolists.When“ThreeLittleBirds”ringsout,Iripthemoutlikethey’reonfire.
Nope.
Eleven-fifty-four.
Thedayisalmostover.
Ishrugagainstmypillow.
Swallowingagainsttheincreasingtightnessbeneathmyribcage,Iturnonmystomachtogetsomeshuteye.
Facingherpillow,Irunmyeyesdownthevacantspacebesideme.
Normally,she’dbelyingthere,talkingrandomly,animatedly,droningonaboutsomethingwhilerunningherfingersalongmyskin,laughterfillingmyroomwhenshefinallydrewthereactionshewantedfromme.
EvenifI’mgroundedintheclubcapacity,Ihaveplentytodo.Athousandbookstoread,minimum.Birdbusinesstoconduct,whichmeansweprobablywon’trunintoeachother.Thenagain,welikelywill.It’sinevitable.I’llhavetogetSeantogivemetheheads-upwhenshe’saroundtomakethingseasierforher.NotthatitwillbehardforhersinceIjustensuredshe’llhateme.
Toss.
She’sgottheplantandSean.
Catch.
She’sgotSean.
Squeeze.
Discardingtheball,Imovetositattheedgeofthebed,earsperkingupforanysignshe’swithhim.
Isshewithhim?
Thatthoughtbeginstognawatmeasarare,rawtypeofjealousythreatensattheideathathe’sstealingmyfuckingtimewithher.
Shewouldn’tdothat.
It’snothisday.
Butasofafewhoursago,thetimeisnolongermine.
Ididthis.
Madeitthisway.
Nochoice.
Craningmynecktowardthewallthatseparatesourrooms,Iglareatit.
Ifsheiswithhim…
Fuckthatnoise.
Denialisrippedfrommecompletelywhenaforeigntypeofpossessivenessovertakesme,andmyheartstartstothrashinconfirmation.Jerkingonsomesweats,Iwalkovertothewallandcupmyear,strainingforanysound.
Nothing.
Fuckthis.
Stalkingdownthehall,IslapopenSean’sbedroomdoorwithmypalmtoseehimalone,flippingchannels,bootscrossedonhisbed,abeerinhand.Heflashesmehissignaturesmirk.“Supman?”
ReliefskittersthroughmeasIjerkmychin.HislipsquirkfurtherashiseyesdriftbacktotheTV.“I’mthinkingmaybesomeonedoesn’twanttosayhe’ssorry.”
“Fuckyou.”
Iturntoleave,andhecallstomyretreatingback.“She’sworthalotmorethananapology.”
Iturnonadime.“Yeah,what’ssheworthtoyou?”
Heusesmyowntacticagainstmewithsilence—stupidquestion.
Iglareoverathimashesipshisbeer.“Whatthefuckarewedoing?”
“Youknowwhatyou’redoing,sameasme.We’recrossinganuncrossableline.”Hisshouldersrollforwardwiththeweightoftheadmission.“ButthedifferencebetweenusisthatI’vealreadymadepeacewithit,”hestatesinatonethatcontradictsthatdeclaration.“It’sharderforyou,Dom,andnobigmysterywhy.”Hisexpressionhardensintoalookreservedonlyforthosehe’sabouttopullthetriggeron.“So,I’llgiveyouafuckingpass,brother,justthisonce,forthinkingyou’lleverbeabletoripthatwomanfrommyarms—especiallyifyousorecklesslyeverpushherintothem.”
“Oh,it’slikethat?”Iask,tiltingmyheadasifIdidn’thearhimright.
“She’smyfuckinggirlfriend,asshole,andshe’sdestroyedrightnowbecauseofyou.Shewouldn’tletmeconsoleher,sowhatthefuckkindofreceptiondidyouexpect?”
Hepullsonhisbeerasifhedidn’tjustthreatenmeforthefirsttimeinourlives,andIletthatshitresonatebeforerealizingI’minhisroomfortheexactsamereason.
Regardless,theresentmentthathedidthreatenmekicksinjustashespeaksup.“Iloveyou,brother,”hesighs,“morethananyother,that’sthetruth,butit’snotmeyou’refighting.So,pleasedon’ttwistmeintotheenemytojustifytheturmoilgoingoninthatbrilliantfuckingbrainofyours.It’sthedecisionthat’skillingyousoftly,somakeitandmakeyourownpeacewithit,foralloursakes.”Thewarningreturnsinhiseyes.“Butknowthis.Yourdecisionnolongerhasanybearingonmine.Thetimeforthathasfuckingpassed.”
Ilingerinhisdoorwayforabeat,seeingthetollthedecisionistakingonhimbeforeturning,gutlurchingasIrecallthedamningwordsIhurtherwith.
DoIevenhaveadecisiontomakepeacewithanymore?
TherealizationthatthatchoiceisnolongerminetakesholdastheacheI’vebeendismissingslamsintome.
BythetimeIreachmyroom,I’monfuckingfirewithregret.Sheddingmysweats,Ipullonsomejeansasperspirationdotsmyhairline.Shovingintomyboots,wallettuckedinmybackpocket,keysinhand,anxietypropelsmedownthestairsasanauseatinguneasesetsin.
IfIhavetobreakintoRomanHorner’sfuckinghousetotakethosewordsback,Iwill.
Reachingthefootofthestairs,I’mfreedofthatburdenwhenIseeheronthecouchstrokingBrandywithabsentfingersasshestaresupattheceiling.Thesightofhertear-streakedfaceandblotchedcheekshasremorsedoingitsthing.
Fuckthis.
Iopenmymouthtospeak,andshebeatsmetoit.“I’mgoingtohaveadogofmyownoneday,”sheuttersfaintlyasiftalkingtoanemptyroom.“They’resomuchnicerthanpeople.”Sheleansdownsoshe’snosetosnoutwithBrandy.“Definitelynicerthancriminalswholikeconvenientfucks.”Shelaughs,butit’slifeless.I’vehurther,knowingherheart,guttedher,andIwouldn’tblameherifshewrotemeoffforgood.
Youdon’tdeservethedecisionandneverhave.
“ButIguessthingswouldbeeasierifIweremorelikeyou,Brandy,huh?”Shecoostothedog.“Silent,obedient,justwaitingidlybyforsomeonetoordermearoundandtellmewhenandwheretolick.”Sheliftstositwithoutaglancemyway,andit’sthenIseeherresignation.“Iwasgoingtoleave,butitwasrainingtoohard.”Sheslidesintotheflip-flopsonthefloorinfrontofher,“lookslikethisrainydayisover.”
Shestandsandfoldstheblanketwe’vehuddledunderahandfuloftimes—ablanketshebroughtfromhome—deemingitourmovienightcover.Ablanketwe’vewrappedupinafterdoingalotmorethanwatchingmovies.That’sourshitshe’sholdingforransomandthreateningtotakeoutofthishousealongwithherandawayfromme.
Istandthere,likeafuckingidiot,madthatIwanther,boilingbecauseIcan’tfuckinghaveher—notthewayIwantto…andpulsingtothebrimwithwhateverthefuckisrefusingtoletmewatchherwalkout.
ButIdoknow…Iknowexactlywhatitis.
I’vebeenstruckfuckingstupidbythefour-lettercurse.
I’m.So.Completely.Fucked.
ShegrabsherpurseandstopsinfrontofwhereI’mstanding.“I’llseeyouaround,Do—”
Snatchingtheblanketfromherandtossingitonthecouch,Iramintoherlikealinebackerandlifther,catchingherharshexhaleasIwhiskherupthestairslikeamindlessfuckingidiotbeforedumpingheronhersideofthebed.Shebouncesonthemattress,eyeswide,lipsparted,gapingatmeincredulouslybeforeherfacetwistswithfury.“It’snotraininganymore.”
“Idon’tgiveafuck,”Isay,damnnearpointingtohersideofthebedininstruction.
“Well,Ido!”
“You’renotadog,”Ioffer.
“Thanks,Iguessthat’sastepupfromconvenientwhore!”
Sherattleswithfurywhereshestands,andit’sallIcandotokeepfrompushingherbackdownonhersideofmybed,whereshebelongs.
WhothefuckamIrightnow?
Sheglaresatme,herhostilityvisceral.“IfIevergaveyoutheimpressionthatI’mfuckingdesperate,yougotthewrongone,Dominic.Because,trustme,youarenowoman’sfirstchoice.”Shesurprisesherselfwithhervenom,andIcanpracticallyseethehandshedeniescuppingoverhermouthinhorrorashereyesflitwithregret.Asthepainofthatstatementsingesme,Ifeelsorryforthebastardthatwilldeserveandeventuallyclaimherforgood.She’sgoingtogivehimhell.Inthenextsecond,Ifuckinghatehimbecauseit’snotme,andmaybeI’llneverbeworthyofbeingintherunningwiththewayI’vedeceivedher.“Youdidn’tgotohim.Why?”
“ToSean?”sheshakesherhead.“Becausethisisourfuckingrela—”shestopsherselffromsayingthewordshethinksscaresme.That’snotthewordthatscaresme.Notanymore.
It’sanotherword,adecision-makingwordthatworriesme.
“Letmeclarifythisforyou,”sheassertsfuriously.“I’mnotdesperate,butI’mbecomingjadedbecauseI’mthegirlwhoreallywantstofuckingbewithyou,andyou’rethebusycriminalthat’sfuckingmebecauseI’mconvenient.”
“Ididn’tmeanit.”
“Maybeyoudidn’t,butbecauseit’ssoeasyforyoutodemeanmethatway,Idon’twantyouanymore.”
It’sanotherknifetothechest,andfuckme,Ideserveit.Whenshestepstowardthedoor,Iblockher.“I’msorry,”Iwhisper.“That’snotwhoIam.”
Shesnapsherheadup,hereyessearching.“IthoughtIknewthat,butyoutoldmedifferently.”There’struthtothat,awholewealthofshitshe’scluelessto,andIcan’tevenfaultherforthatbecausewe’retoogoodatwhatwedo.She’salreadysotangledinourwebthatIdon’tknowifshecangetout.ButallIwanttodoissinkmyfangsindeeper,keephertangled—withme.
“What,Dom…whatisitthat’sholdingyouback?Imean,ifit’sSean,Iunderstand…Iguess—”
Ijerkmychin.“It’snotSean.”
“Thenwhat?”
Thatdecision-makingword.
Brother.
Andit’stoofuckinglatebecauseIwantheronhersideofmybednomattertheweather.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Goddammit.
“Iwon’tevermistreatyoulikethatagain.”
“Thatwastooeasyforyou,”hervoicerattleswithhurt.
Ijerkmychin.“No.Itfuckingwasn’t.”
Hereyesmist,butsheliftsherchindefiantly.She’snotgoingtogivemeanytears.Good.Idon’tdeservethem.Theneedtobridgethis,tomakeherbelieveme,totouchherandeasetheroilinginmygut,intensifiesasmypalmsstarttosweat.Shecouldn’thavemeantit.WiththewayIfeel—ifshe’sfeelingittoo—ithurtstoofuckingmuch.Whycan’tIsayit?
Whycan’tIjustadmitthat?
BecauseIcan’ttellhershitwithoutbackingitup,andI’malreadytoofarintoacornerthatwon’tallowit.
“Tellmewhattosay.”
Shejerksherchin.“No.”
“Tellmewhattodo.”
“No,”shescoffs,“You’reageniuswhowasalsoblessedwithcommonsense,andyoudamnsureknowhowtotreatawomanalotbetterthanthis—shittytemperornot.There’snothingtosay.Youendedus.”
“No,Ididn’t,oryouwouldhavealreadyleft,”Ipointout,whichInotewasn’tthebestideaashernostrilsflare.
“Andyouwantthis,oryouwouldhaveletme.Thatwasmeyouwerecomingafter,right?”Shespoutssmugly.
This.Fucking.Girl.
“Fine.Iwantthis.You.”
“Nope,”anotherjerkofherchin.
Igripthebackofmyneck.“Youwantwhat?Adeclarationorsomething?”
“No.Ijustwantedyou,andyou’vemadeitalotlessappealingnow.”
Fuckme.
“ItoldyouthatIwouldtakewhateveryoucouldgiveme,andImeantit,sogivemesomething,Dom.”
IsearchmyselffranticallybecauseIknowshemeansit.
“Frenchbulldog,”Iblurt,andshejerksbackinconfusion.
“What?”
“That’sthedogyoushouldget,”Isay.
Shecrossesherarms.“I’mlistening.”
“They’recompaniondogswithgoodtemperament—easygoing,alert,sociable,patient,smart.They’resouglythatthey’recute.It’sthedogSeanshouldhavegotten,buthegotanidiotinstead.”
Shebiteshertopliptostifleasmile.
“Iwon’tevertalktoyoulikethatagain,Cecelia.Imeanit.”
“Yes,youwill,”shecounters.“Youcan’tpromisethat.So,don’t.Beingwithyouislikebeinginaconstantstatebetweenvenombiteandcure.Butwithyou,it’sjustanotherweekday,andIcanhandlethataslongasyou’rehonestwithme…atleastaboutus.”Shestepstowardmeanddelivershernextwordspoint-blank.“ButIwouldn’tsuggestevertalkingtomelikethatagain.”
“Didyoujustthreatenme?”Ican’thelpmysmile.
“Yes.”Shedeadpans.
Liftingahand,Irunmythumbalongherjawbeforebrushingthedivotinherchin.Hereyespenetrate,andherwordssoothetheache.“Butyouareworthitforme,Dom.”
MyshouldersrelaxslightlyasIcircleherwaist,myheartstillpoundingwiththetruth—therewasneverreallyafuckingdecision.TherewasonlygivingintotheoneI’dalreadymade.“Iplantomakethisapologymuchbetter.”
“Well,youhaven’tsetahighbarforyourself,”sheharrumphs.
“Thatchangestheminuteyougetbackonyoursideofthebed.”There’sindescribablefreedominfalling.
“Dom,”Ceceliamoans,herperfectlipspartingasIpinherwristswithonehandandpulloutpartwaytodenyherorgasm—killingherprotestwithmytonguebythrustingitintohermouth.Shesucksitwithabandon,spurringmeon.
WhenI’vepulledbackenoughtokeepheredged,Iburrowbackin,rollingmyhips,rubbingtheridgeofmycockagainstherclit.Herorgasmrollsthroughherwithinafewthrusts,herreleasevibratingonmytongueasshetightensaroundme.Grippingherhips,Ipullhertostraddlemeinthemiddleofmybed.Mattressclearasidefromthetwoofus,sheetsandpillowsstrewn,Ithrustup,impalingher,andshecriesoutmyname.Whensheattemptstomove,Istillher,commandinghereyesbygrippingherjaw,demandingtheacknowledgmentthatI’mtheonegivingherthispleasure—thatthisconnectioniswithme
Shegentlyrocksagainstmeasshestaresbackatme.
“You’resofuckingbeautiful,”Iwhisper,ashereyessearchmineinanattempttofinddeepermeaninginmywords—meaningthat’sthere—thatsheknowsIfeelbutrefusetoputavoiceto
Whensheagaintriestomove,Ikeepanirongriponher.Iwon’tbethemanwhomakespromisesIcan’tkeep,butI’llbedammedifIdon’tmakeitclearthatinthisroom,thisbed,it’sallusandwhatwecreatewhenwe’retogether.
Webothknowitandhaveknownitsincethisstarted.Itrunssomuchfuckingdeeperthanphysical.Forme,it’saplaceofbliss,peace.AplaceIbothliberateandfindmoreofmyselfthatIknowisonlyforher.HoldingherinmutedintimacyistheonlywayIcaneffectivelyrelaytoherwithoutwordsthatIfeelit,too.I’mnotgoingtolethermissasecondofthetruth,evenifitremainsunspoken.
“Letmemove,”shepleas,pressingkissesalongmyjaw.Mycockpulsesassheattemptstogainthefrictionwebothwant—herneedthrobbingaroundmeasmybodythrumswithhers.Heartpounding,IholdoutaslongasIcan,foraslongaspossible,becauseit’swithherthatIfeelthemostalive.I’msoclosetocoming,justfromseeingherstaringbackatme,explosionsdetonatinginmychestaseverythingIfeelattemptstobreakfree.
“Ineedyou,”shemurmurs,rakinghernailsdownmysweat-slickedback.
We’vebeenfuckingforhours.I’vefeltnothingbutfranticduringthattime,thecompulsiontokeepherwithmebecomingmorefinitewitheachrelease.ThepanicduetothenotionthatifIallowherasingleinchofspace,she’lldiscoverthereasonformyurgency,andIwon’tevergetthisfeelingback.
“Dom,”shewhispersasshereadsmyfearinmyrefusaltoreleaseher,“youcantellmeanything.”
Fistingherhairandpullingherneckbackwithmygrip,Iwhisperthetruthatthebaseofherthroat.“Iam.”
AndIam.
TellingherwhatIcan.
Showingherhowbeingwithherrevivesmeandthateverydaywe’retogether,shebringsmebackfromthebrink,collectingpiecesofhumanityandempathyIfeltIlost.
ThatshealoneisthepinprickoflightthatbringsmebackwhenIgetlostinthedark.
Thatshe’stheonlybeingalivethathaseverbeenabletomakemefeelsomuchatonce.
Thatwe’retoldtoloveourenemy,andI’mfaithfullyobeying.
FearandlustwarasIclaimpossessionofherphysically,butevenasItakeherbody,shecontinuestostealandownpiecesofmeIignoredIpossessed
Beforeher.
Beforethisbliss.
HellbentonmakingusbothsufferforperfectionIhavenorighttohavewithher,Itakehermouth,andwithjustakissandonedeepthrust,webothcome.
Collapsingattheheadofthemattress,welayinasweatyheap,facetoface,strokingtheother’sskin,eyeslocked.Evenwithmybarrierofsilence,wefeelsolidified—likeadropofblackinktaintingthesurroundingwater,creatingourowncloud.Butit’swithinitwherewe’remostcomfortable.Wherewecanmaintainthisperpetualstateuntilweinevitablyend,bywayofme,mybrother,orhoweverthisplaysoutbecauseIcan’tprotectherfromeitherofus.Icanonlyprepareher.Butlookingathernow,Ican’trememberwhyI’mnotallowedtoloveher.Ican’tthinkofasinglefuckingreasonwhyIshouldn’thaveherorsilencethewords.
She’snotherfather.
I’mnotmybrother.
Allthesethingsmakesensehere,underthecoverofthestormroaringoutside—acoverwecreatedthatkeepsussafeandhiddenaway.
It’sjustus.Andit’shereIcanbemyselfwithher,andIdon’twanttohideitanymoreorfromanyone—whichisnotonlydetrimentallyfuckingfoolish,butimpossible.WhichbringsmebacktotheonlyconclusionIcandraw.
Thisislove,andI’mdangerouslyconsumedbyit.
NotaquestionIhavetoaskmyselfasthetruthofthatisbeatingsteadilyinmychest.Staringintohereyesaswesharebreath,I’mfilledwiththeconvictionthatI’mlookingbackatmytwinflame.AttractedtoherinawayIcan’tescape.EvenwhenI’minsideher,theneedincreasestenfold—especiallythen—Ican’tgetcloseenough.Ican’tkeepmyhandsoffherormythoughtsfromstrayingtowardherconstantlywhenwearen’ttogether.
Itmakessensetomenowwhytwinflamesarealoveaddict’schoice,andsincewe’vebeentogether,she’sdrawnanaddictionIdidn’tknowIhadoutofme.
Butwe’rethecaustickindofidenticalflames,andthere’snothingthatcanchangethat.
It’salreadywritten.
So,whiletheremightbefreedominthefall,there’sconsequence,too.
Delphine’swordsechoinmyheadasthattruthsetsin.
“She’llbetheendofyou.”
WhatIdidn’ttellherwasthatIalreadyknewit.
Byfireorwater.
Eitherway.Sofuckingbeit.
Untilthen,I’llwaitforthechangeinairpressure,thegatheringoftheclouds,thestreakoflightninginthesky,therumbleofthunder,andrain.
So,thisisthehoneymoonphase.
Struckdownwiththefour-lettercurseornot,I’mstillamotherfucker,andembracingit.I’mfeelingcursedbythedayandtakingfulladvantageoftheweather.It’sstormedeverysingledaythisweek,andmycockhasbeensinginginit,splashingaroundinitsraincoat.Theforecastcontinuestoguaranteethatit’snotgoingtodryupanytimesoon.Eyesclosed,Idon’tdarelookdownbecauseIknowexactlyhowfarI’vefallenintooblivionalongwithit,andIdon’twanttoglimpsehowmuchdistanceisleftbeforeIland.IhavezeroguiltoverSean’scurrentstateofneglectbecausehehadplentyoftimewithherbeforeIclaimedmyrightfulplace.Justasthethoughtcrosses,myphonerumbles,andthedevilI’mthinkingofflashesasthecalleronscreen.Unabletohelpmyself,Ianswerit,puttingitonspeakerandsensingthehesitationintheair.
“Dom?”Seanasks,duetomylackofgreeting.“Thefuckyoudoing,man?”
“WhatamIdoinghmmmm…fuckingyourbeautifulgirlfriend’smouth,”Ianswer,thrustingindeepenoughthathereyeswater.
Iholdthephoneouttoherwiththechoicetoendthecall,keepingoureyeslocked—sheresumessuckingandgrinning,andItanglemyfreefistintoherhair.
“What?”SeancroaksontheotherendofthelineasCeceliaclampshardaroundmydick,drawingagroan.Firelicksupmyspine,andit’sallIcandotokeepmykneesfrombuckling.
“IsaidI’mfuckingyourgirlfriend’sperfectmouth,andyoushouldbeproudofherbecauseshe’s…fuckinghell,”IraspoutasCecelia’sheadbobs,“she’sowningthefuckoutofit.”
Silence.Asecondticksby,thentwo
“You’resuchafuckingdick.”
“I’dsaymorethanamouthful,”Imuse,grinningbeforeCeceliawipesitfrommyface,hollowinghercheeksandtakingadeeppull.
“Fuck,baby,”Icroak,loweringthephonesoSeangetsthefulleffect.“She’sravenous,bro.Shametheweatherisn’tputtingoutinyourfavor.”
“Goddamnit,”Seangritsout,hisvoicehoarse.“Imissthatmouth.”
Iknowhe’sgettingoffonthisasmuchasme.Ceceliaknowsittoo,whichhasherditchingthelastofherforeplayandgoingallin.
“Keeptalking,”Igrunt,“it’sturningheron.”
“I’minthemiddleofashift,”hisreplyisgravel.
“ThenIsuggestyougetsomewhereprivateandf-fuckingfast,”Ichopout,nearlylosingmyshitwhenshecupsmysackandtugs.“She’sinoneofhermoods.”
Theplantnoiselowers,andIknowhe’stakenheedofmysuggestion.
“Ifeelforyou,”Isay,massagingherscalpwithmyfingers,“andyourcurrentview,”Itauntassheengulfsme,“becauseshe’swearingnothingbutfire-redpanties…perfectnipplesatattention.”Shebobsagain,takingmeprisonerbydigginghernailsintomyass.“I’mthinkingmaybesheboughtthesepantiestowearforyou.”Irunmyfingeralongthestretchofhermouth.“DidyoubuythosetowearforSean?”
AstrangledconfirmationishummedaroundmydickasSeancursesovertheline.
“Toobadyouaren’theretoseethem,”Isay,pumpingmyhips.“Sheknowsredisyourfavorite.”
“I’mgoingtoreddenyourperfectassforthat,Cecelia,”Seanthreatens,tonerough.Cecelianoisilypopsmeoutofhermouth,hervoiceliquiddesire.
“Lookingforwardtoit.”
“Fuck,baby,”hewhispers.“Areyouwetformetoo?”
Iliftmybrowsandgripherchin.“Tellhim.”
“YouknowIam,”shemoans,grippingmycocksohardatthebasethatmyhipsjerk.“Imissyou,”shemurmurs.
“Thisistorture.”
“I’llsay,she’slickingmeupanddownlikeshe’sfuckingstarving,brother,”Irelayassheflattenshertonguealongthebottombeforeswirlingitalongmyhead,oureyeslocked.
“Iwasjustmindingmyownwhenshedroveover,strippeddown,droppedtoherknees,andstartedsuckingmycock…”Irunmythumbalonghercheek,“Shelookssofuckingbeautifuldoingit,lipsstretchedwide.Toobadyou’remissingout,”Igruntasshetakesanotherhardpullbeforetakingmedowntothebase.
“Fuckyou,”hegrowlsasthenoiseattheplantdieswiththesnapofadoor.
“Ithinkyou’remakinghimhard,”Iwhisperasshestartstoedgeme—tomakeitlast.Afteranotherthoroughpass,shepopsmeoutofhermouth,whisperinglikeIimagineasirenwould.“Areyouhardforme,Sean?”
“Fuckyes,”hegroans.“Always.”
“Areyouinouroffice?”Sheasks,pumpingmewhilescoringhernailsovermyabs.
“Yeah,baby,”hegrunts.“Doyouneedmetocomehomeandhelp?”
“That’snotthewaythisworks,”Iremindhim.
“It’sbeenrainingallfuckingweek,”hecracksoutraggedly.
“It’suptohertoshare,but,”Igruntagain,“Iwouldsayourgirlisowningit,”Ireportasshetakesmebackdowntothebase,andIcan’thelpmysharpexhale.“Fuck,Cecelia.”
“Baby,willyousavesomeforme?”Seanraspshoarsely.
“Always,”Ceceliamurmurs.
“Don’tworry.I’llmakesureshe’swellfedandtakencareof.”Usingmygriponthebackofherhead,Ithrustenoughtogagherforhimtohear.Sean’srapidhardbreathssoundovertheline.“Fuck,I’malreadythere.”
“She’slickingmycrown,”Ireportasfirerampsupmyspine.“She’steasingme,Sean.MaybeIshouldteachheralesson.”
“Don’tyoufuckingdarehangup,”hegrunts.“Baby,talktome.”
“I’llbeinyourbed,”shenoisilysucksthetip,“assoonasthesuncomesout,”sheassures,cuttingoffmyprotest,gaggingherselfforusbothasmycockjerksinwarning.
“Butherasswillalreadybered,”Ideclare.
Thesecondshedigshernailsintomythigh,Icome,groaninghardasIpulseintoherwaitingmouthwhileshebluntshernailsdownmythigh.ShetakeseverydropasIgripherchinafterfillinghermouth.
“Open,”Iorder,andshedoes.“She’sgotamouthfullofme,Sean.Whatshouldshedo?”
“Swallow,”heorderswithouthesitation.
“Youheardhim,”Isay,releasinghercinchedmouthfrommygripbeforeherthroatbobs.“Shemissedalittle.”Takingmythumb,Ipushitintohermouth,“butshe’ssuckingitoffmythumb.”
“JesusChrist,”Seancurses.
“Don’tworryaboutgrabbingmedinner,”Itaunt,grinningdownather,“because,bythetimeyougethere,I’llalreadyhaveeaten.”
Endingthecall,Ipullhertoherfeet,andCeceliashakesherhead,mockscorninhereyes.“You’rehorrible.”
“You’llthankmeforthat,andyouknowit.”
“Yeah,”shegrins,“Iprobablywill.”
“You’refinallyowningit,”Istate,grippingherhairandpullingitbacktoexposeherthroat.
“Yeah,Iam,”shewhimpersasIflattenmytongueatthedivotofherthroatbeforerunningittohermouth,thrustingmytongueinforalittlepreview.
“Dom,”shegritsout,bodyrattlingwithanticipation,chestheaving,eyesdilated,expressionneedy.
“Needsomething?”
Shenarrowsherdemandingnavyblues.Iloveitwhenshegetslikethisbecauseshe’salmostimpossibletokeepsatiated.Grippingherjaw,Itakehermouth,tastingmyselfwhilewalkingherbacktowardthebed.Pushingherback,Itugdownherpantiesandsinktomyknees.Spreadinghersoakedpussy,Istrokeitwithmyfingersleisurely,andshe’ssofuckingreadyafterwhatjustwentdownthatshecomes.Gazingdownather,IsendupaselfishprayerformorerainjustbeforeIbowmyheadandworship.
“Oneday,Iwatchedthesunsettingforty-fourtimes…Youknow…whenoneissoterriblysad,onelovessunsets.”—LePetitPrince,AntoinedeSaint-ExupéryThenurserollsDelphinetomyopenpassengerdoorbeforehelpingmesituateherintheseat.Shesurprisesmewhenshecallsafterthenursewithaseeminglyappreciativegoodbye.ScrutinizingherwhenI’minmydriver’sseat,Inoticeadifferenceinherdemeanor.“Yougood?Youseem…good.”
ShegivesmeaneasynodasIturntheignitionover,eyesthesameraregraystaringbackatme.“Youseemgood,too.”
“Ararityforus,”Ijest.
Myquipdimssomeofthelightinhereyesbeforeshespeaks.“Canwe…canwegosomewhere?”
Herrequesthasmepausingmyhandonthegearshift.“Youdon’twanttogohome?”
“Iwouldliketoseeasunset,”shedeclares,herattentiondartingoutofthewindshieldandbacktome.“Doyouknowofaplace?”
“Weliveinamountaintown.Thereareplentyofplacestochoosefrom.”Iglanceatmydashclockandseewehavetwohoursatmostbeforesundown.
“Takemetoone,”sheorders,clickingherbeltandsettlingin.
“Youdon’tfeelsick?”Iask,pullingoutofthecirculardrive.
“Ihavecancerandpoisonpumpingthroughmetochaseit,”sheexpelsabreath,“Ialwaysfeelsick.”
AnillfeelingrunsthroughmeasIquestionhermotive.“Planningondyingtoday?”
“Non,why?”Shereadsmyexpression.“I’mjusttryingtomakegooduseofthetimeIhave.”
Imullthatover.“Didthedoctortellyousomething?”
“Non.”
“Icancalltheoncologist,Delphine,”Iremindher.
“Non,”shesighs.“Ionlyhadmytreatment.”
IfIhadn’tcaughtherwipingatearaway,Iwouldneverbelieveitwasthere.TheonlytearsI’veeverseenthewomanshedwerewhenIwasstillofsingle-digitage,andthosewereformyparentsandherex-husband.
“Youcantakemehomeifyouwantto,Ijustwantedtospendsometimewithyou.Isthatsuchacrime?”
“Consideringyouneverhave,it’ssurprising.”
“Weare…friendsnow,arewenot?”Sheasks.
“Ifyousayso,”Ijest.
“Fine,takemehome.”
“I’vegotaplacetotakeyouifyoutellmewhyyou’releaking,”Iprompt,spottinganotherfastteartrailingdownhercheek.ThesightofitjogsthememoryofCeceliathatdayshecametome.Hereyeswerepouring,justasemotional,becausesomethingsignificanthadhappened,anditappearstobethecaseformyaunt.
“Whyareyousoupset,Tatie?”
“Idon’twanttotalkaboutme.”SheappraisesmeasIpulltoastoplight.“Youareahandsomeman.SomuchofCelineIseeinyou.”
“Areweseriouslyhavingaheart-to-heart?”Iask,utterlyconfused.
“Youhavefoundlove,”shestates,notatallaquestion.
Iblinkbackather.“Whywouldyouthinkthat?”
“Wearesoalike,Dominic.Iknowyoumightnotwanttohearit—andmaybedonotbelieveit—butweare.Inmanyways.I’mhappyifyouhave.”
“HappyifIfoundlovewithRoman’sdaughter?”Iqueryincredulously.
Shestaresbackatme,lipsquirking.“Youdenyyouare?”
“Thatwasn’tthequestion,”Iredirect.
Sheturnsbacktostareoutofthewindshield.“Iamhappyyouarecapable,thatyouembraceit.”
“Wouldn’tgothatfar,”Imutter,almostinaudibly,butthat’snotexactlytrueanymore.Wespendthefirstofthedrivemakingsmalltalk,whichmakesmefeelalittlelikeI’veenteredtheTwilightZone.Shelaughs,twice,andloudly.Theuneaseincreases,andIstarttowonderifshe’slyingabouthertreatmentprogressionandisnowonborrowedtime.
Alittleunderanhourlater,we’recoastingupthenarrow,windingroadtothetopofthemountainwithtwentyminutestospareforthesunset.Delphineremainsquiet,trustingmetogetherthere,anticipationradiatingfromwhereshesitswithararehopeinhereyes.WhenIpullintoaparkinglotwhichconsistsofnothingbutasmallbuildingsittingtotherightofus,shelooksovertomeskeptically.“Here?”
Inodandwalkaroundthecartohelpherout.Shepracticallyfallsagainstmewhenshehitsherfeet,sweatbeadingherbrowandupperlipasIgriphertightlytokeepherupright.“Youokay?”
Herlipstremble,herprideatstakeassheeyesthedistancetothebuilding.“I’mweakerthan…wedon’thaveto—”
“I’llwalkyou,”Iassureher.HereyesagainmistandIclutchhertome,walkinghertowardthebuilding.Whenwereachthesteepstairsleadingtothedoor,shelooksatthemwarily,shakingherhead.“Dominic,I’mtoowea—”
“I’vegotyou.”Sweepinghersecurelyinmyarms,Itakethestairstowardthedoorwayjustasamanopensitandspotsus,quicklyusheringhiswifethroughandholdingitforustopass.
“Thankyou,”Imutter,andDelphineechoesit.Hereyestrailthecouple,whocuriouslystarebackatusasIstepin,cradlinghertomychest.
“Don’tbeembarrassed,Tatie,”ItellherjustassheburiesherfaceinmyshoulderbeforeIslowlystartdescendingtheheavilyinclinedstepspassingthevacantpewswhichsittoourleftandright
OnceIreachthebottom,Iglancearoundsatisfiedbeforenudgingherwiththeliftofmyshoulder.“Justintimefortheshow.Lookatyoursunset,Tatie.”
Sheslowlyliftsherheadandgaspswhensheseestheviewbeforeus.Feetaheadstandsatwelve-footcrosssecuredinabrickfoundation,andtobothsidesofitliesalow-lyingborderwall.BeyondthatisanendlessseaofBlueRidgeMountainpeaks,whicharequicklybecomingsaturatedinvarioushuesoforange,gold,andpink.
“MonDieu!”MyGod!Sheexclaims,hervoiceshakingasIlifthergentlytoherfeet.Shesoaksinthesceneryforseveralquietseconds,herhandstillclutchedtomybicepaswewatchmistandcolorsteepthroughthemountaintops.“Whatisthis?”
“It’scalledPrettyPlaceChapel,”Ianswer,justastakenabackbythesightbeforeus,whichisalmosttoosurrealtobelieve.
Sheshakesherhead,shockandaweinherexpression,appreciationinhervoice,andfollow-upquestion.“Howdoyouknowaboutit?”
“I’vebeenhereafewtimes,”Iadmit.
Shenarrowshereyesinsuspicion.“Youdobelieve.”
“Stillinnegotiations,”Itellher.
WespendafewquietminutesasIglancearoundthesmallchapelandbacktotheblockedoutviewthesizeofatheaterscreen.It’swhenIlookbackandglimpsethefearthat’sbeencripplingherexpressionsinceshewasdiagnosedthatIspeakup.“Ididalittleresearchafewyearsback…whenIwascurious.”
“Curiousaboutwhat?”
“Yourgoodbookofmorals,”Igrin,“theclimacticending,andwhathappensafter.”
Shenodsinencouragementformetocontinue.
“Duringmydive,Ireadadozenormorestoriesandtestimoniesandcameacrossonethattookplacebackintheeighties.Ithaskindofstuckwithmesince.”
Iglanceovertoseeherfocusonme
“ItwasanaccountfromaTexashousewifewhowasdrivingastationwagononherwaytoJCPenneytopickupsomecurtainsshe’dordered.Hertwoyoungdaughterswerecoloringinthebackofit.”Isearchmymemoryforthedetailsthatstuckout.“Whatthathousewifedidn’tknowasshespeddownthathighwaytorunhereverydayerrandwasthatshewoulddiethreetimesthatday.”
Delphine’seyeswiden.
“Shedidn’tknowthatjustahead,aneighteen-wheelerhadstoppedonthehighwayduetosomedebris—rollsofchickenwire.Hehadn’tturnedonhissignalsorlaidouttrafficcones,soshedidn’tsloworbrakeandslammedintothebackofitatfullspeed.”
Delphinelistens,rapt,hereyesdriftingbacktotheview.
“Thewomanwasconsideredmedicallydeadthreetimes.Twiceonthewaytothehospital—oncewhilewaitingforthehelicopter,onceintransit,herlongestflatlinetookplaceontheoperatingtable.Themedicalstaffwantedtocallherdeath,butthedoctorwho’dbeenworkingonherrefusedtostoptryingtobringherback—hewasthinkingofhertwodaughtersbeingstitchedupjustafewroomsaway.Shewasconsideredmedicallydeadforlongerthanacceptabletohaveadecentprognosisifrevived—toeverfullyfunctionagain—butthedoctortriedonelasttimeandbroughtherback.”
ThechapelfillswithamistypinkhueasIrelaytherest.“Shehadsignificantbraindamage,hadtolearntowalkandtalkagain,readandwrite,butshemadeafullrecovery.”IturntoDelphineandseeshe’shangingoneveryword.“Anddoyouknowwhatheronlycomplaintwas?”
Shegivesasubtleshakeofherhead
“Thattheybroughtherback.”Igrin.“She’dseenwhatwaswaitingontheothersideanddidn’twantadamnthingtodowiththeworldanymore.”
Simmeringtearsfillhereyes.
“Sheclaimedthatinthetimeshewasdown,sheexperiencedenoughoftheafterlifethatsheneverwantedtoexistanywhereelse.Thatfortheentiretyofthetimeshespentthere,shewasenvelopedinaperpetualstateoflove—nothinglikethehumanloveweexperience,butmagnifiedbyabillionandthensome.Thateverybeingtherereverberatesthatlove,andthesecondyoubrushagainstthemorpassthroughthem,youknoweverysinglethingaboutthem,everydetailoftheirlives.Thatthefirsttimeithappens,youbecomepartofacollectiveconsciousness.There’snojudgment,noshame,nosuffering,regret,orpain.Nothingbutaninconceivabletypeoffeelingnohumanmindcouldeverbegintocomprehend.Shesworethatnolivingsoulshouldeverworryaboutthequestionofanafterlife.”
Delphinebreaksatthatmoment,cryinginherhands,andIwhiskhertositinthefirstpew,leavingapalmonherbackasherbodyshakeswithhercries.
Afewbeatspassbeforewhisperedapologiesareamplifiedbythehandscoveringherface,andI’mjustabletomakethemout.“Jesuisdésolé,jesuisdésolé,Dominic,”shegasps,beforeliftingredrimmedeyestomine.“Truly,sorryforthewayItreatedyou.”Tearsofregretrolldownherface.“Iwassohorribletoyoubothinthebeginning.”
“Youcanstillbeatit,”Itellher.
“Maybe,butthisapologyislongoverdue,”shesniffs.“Itisoneofmybiggestregrets.”
“Youwereyoung,heartbroken,andpenniless,anddon’tforgetIknowwhatgotyoutotheplaceyouwerein.Thislifehasn’tgiveneitherofusverymanybreaks.Inthatwearealike.”
“Youwerejustalittleboy…youshouldn’thavehadtosufferforit.Iwasselfish,”sheadmitshoarsely.“I’vebeenselfishforaverylongtime.”
“Youwere,butIforgaveyouawhileago.”
“Youdidnot,”shedismisses.
“Okay,”Igrin.“I’vebeentrying.”
“Iwillunderstandifyoudon’t,”shestaresbackattheview.“Idonotdeserveit.”
“Maybe…butyoucouldhaveabandonedus,whichcouldhaveseparatedus.Ikeepthatinmindwhenmemoriesofyoupissmeoff.”
Shegrins.“Yougrewintoagoodman,Dominic.Idonottakeanycreditforthat.ThoughIshouldwarnyouagainthatweareverymuchalike.”
“Thinkso?”
“Sadly,Iknowso,”sheturnsbacktotakeinthelastofthesettingsun.“Donotletyourhearthardenyoulikeminedid.I’velosttoomuchbecauseIcouldnotforgive.”
“I’lldomybest.”
Wewatchthelastofthesunsinkbeforewestand,andsheturnstome.“Thankyouforthatstory.”
“Therearehundreds,ifnotthousandslikeit,allclaimingthatthere’ssomethingwaiting.Foreverypersonfiercelyclaimingthere’sadeity,there’sanotherhell-bentonprovingnothingexists.Attheendoftheday,botharesobloatedwithego,sofirmintheirbeliefsthatneithercanproveit.It’stheworld’sbest-keptsecret,onethatnoneofusbecomeprivytountilwebecomeapartofit.Butthere’sgottobesometruthtosomeofthosestories,right?”
Shenods.
“So,trynottoworrytoomuch,”Inudgehershoulder,andshegivesmearare,fullsmile.
Afterasilentbutpeacefuldrivehome,Ileadherintothehousetogethersettled,mychestachingalittleatheradmissionsandtheisolationshe’senduredforsolong.Wedwelledinthesamestateofdesperation,bothreclusesforfuckingyears,nevermendingthebridgeevenaswebothsufferedthesametypeofexistence.Shewastedhalfherlifeasanalcoholicreclusetoheartbreakbecauseeverysinglemaninherlifehadfailedher—robbedherofsecurityateveryturn.Itstartedwithherfatherandendedwithherhusbandandeverymanbetweenthosetwo.Despiteheradmirableresilienceupuntilherhusbandlefther,thatfinalblowhadherwithdrawing,drinkinghersecretssilentwithherdailybottleuntilherexistencewasnothingbutbackgroundtootherswhowereliving.
Theideathatwearealotalikeinsomeofthoserespectsstartstoinstillasortoffearinme.
Theminutewestepintothehouse,thescentoflemonandotherhouseholdchemicalshithard,jarringme.Clickingonthelight,Ispotanoticeontopofanemptyplantstandforarecentextermination.Glancingaround,Iseethatthehouseisspotless—theshelvesaredusted.Walkingintothekitchen,Iopenthecupboardandseethedisheshavebeenwashedandneatlystacked.GlancingoveratDelphineasshesettlesinherrecliner,sheanswersmyunspokenquestionwithoutsomuchaslookingatme.“Shedidn’twantyoutoknow,butnowyoudo.”
Cecelia
Instantly,theliquidpassingthroughthebeatinmychestsolidifieshernameinsidebeforepassingthroughtotheother.
Whoosh.Whoosh.
Whoosh.Whoosh.
Ican’tevenimaginethereceptionshewasmetbywhensheshowedup.
Chestachingwiththeneedtogettoher,panicbrieflyseizesme.“Fuck,didshe—”
“No,”shesquelchesthatfear,readingmythought.“Hisroomisstilllocked.”
Whenshefinallylooksatme,IseethatsameguiltIsawthenightCeceliakneltatherfeetbegintoseepintoherexpression.
“What?”Iask,walkingovertowhereshesitsandcrossingmyarms.“We’vebeensharingbluntlyallnight,Tatie.Whystopnow?”
“I’vewrongedher,”shewhisperslow,gazedistant,“inthepast.”
“WrongedCecelia?”
Shenods,hereyeswatering.
Fuck.
“It’sthemostdespicablethingI’veeverdone.”Hereyesglosswithmemory.“WhenI,”sheshakesherheadasasharppangofprotectivenessthrumsthroughme.
“Tellme,”Idemand.
“Itwasalongtimeago,”sheassures.
“I’mlistening.”
“WhenIworkedattheplant.Itoldyou…Iwasclosetohermother,Diane,forashorttime.”
Inod.
“Aftertheydied,IknewsheknewwhathappenedandthatRomanhadsomethingtodowithit.Iwasangry.”
“Delphine,whatdidyoudo?”
“Ceceliawasaninfant,”shewhispersasifhertimbrewillhaveanybearingonthedelivery.“Igotreallydrunkandbrokeintohermother’shouse.”
“And?”
“IputaloadedguninCecelia’scrib,”shegrimaces,“whileshewassleepinginit.”
“JesusChrist,Tatie.”
“IwantedtosendamessagetoRomanthatweknewthatfirewasn’tanaccident.”
“Whathappened?”
“Nothing.Absolutelynothing,”sheassures.“Ileftthesafetyon.”
“Oh,well,thatchangeseverything.”FuryseepsintomeasIpullthekeysfrommyjeanspocketwhenlightningflickersjustoutsidethelivingroomwindow.
“Dominic,”Delphinecallsbehindme,butIignoreher,mychestthunderingastherainbeginstopouroffherroof.WhateverconfessionsDelphinehasleft,Idecideshecantakethemtohergraveorfindapriesttoconfessto.TheimageofCeceliawithaloadedgunatherheadsendsashiverthroughme,makingmephysicallyillasIpounddownthestepsandstartmyCamaro.Tearingoutofthedrive,theneedtocomecleansurgesthroughmeasIracetowardthetownhouse—towardher.AsmuchasIfuckinghateRoman,asitturnsout,myownfamilyisjustasguiltyofthesamemaliciousintentconcerningher.Itstrikesmeonthedrivethatnomatterwhoguardsthem,secrets—especiallythosethataremostfatal—haveawayofpoisoningthosewhokeepthem,aswellasthoseonthereceivingendofdiscoveringthem.WhenitcomestomytietoCecelia,weweredamnedbeforewemet—throughnofaultofourown—andindiscoveringeachother,we’rebothslowlybeingpoisoned.
Pullingintothedrive,reliefcoversmeatthesightofCecelia’scar.ThunderrollsasIexit,andgetdrenchedinthesecondsittakestogettothedoor.Crackingitopen,IseeCeceliabundledontheloveseatfacingtheslidingdoor,earbudsinasshereadsalongwiththeaudioonherKindle.Closingthedoorwithasoftclick,Icreepin,duckingbehindthecouchwhenshesensesshe’snotalone.Waitinguntilshe’scomfortablyreadingagain,Ipouncefrombehind,soakingherwithmydrippinghairasIgripherandpullheroverthebackofthecouch.
“Dom,”sheshrieks,palmingandpushingagainstmysoakedT-shirtasIshakemyhead,sheddingwaterandsoakingherintheprocess.Twistinghertofaceme,Iscoopherintomyholdbeforerestingherassontheedgeofthecouch.
“You’reterrible,”shelaughsasshesinksintome,andIshutuptherestofherprotestswithmykiss.WhenIbreakit,Ipullbacktoadmiretheheatinhereyes,lidshooding,breathscomingfast,aslowsmilespreadingacrossherfacewithhergreeting.“Hi.”
HerlegstightensecurelyaroundmeasIliftherupandwalkustowardthestairs.
“God,you’resoaked.Let’sgetyoudry,”shesays,squirminginmyhold
“Let’sgetyouwet,”Icounter.
Whenshebitesherlip,thedivotinherchinbringsmycockfullmast.
“Howwaswork?”sheasks.
“Work.”
Sherollshereyes.“Howareyou?”
“Stillme,”Ijest.
“Motherfucker.”
“Onlytheonce,”Itaunt.
Herbodytenses.“Ididn’tneedtoknowthat.”
Iwidenmyeyes.“Butyouseemtoneedtoknoweverythingelse.”
Shesobersandtakesoffense.“Youreallyjustwantmepliableandmute?”
Ipressmylipstogetherassheslapsmychestplayfullyandtriestopryherselfawaywhenwereachthetopofthestairs.“Suchanasshole.”
“ToldyouIwas.”
“Youcantellmemanythings,butyou’llneverconvincemeofthat,sir.Notthatway.”
“Youshouldbelieveme,”Iwarn.
“Stoptryingtoscaremeawayfromyou,Dom.I’mnotgoinganywhere.”
Isetheronherfeetasshesurveysmyroom.“So,what’sitgoingtobetonight?Wecouldread…Icouldmakeyoudinnerorbreakfast?Howaboutrunnyeggsandamovie?”
Inod.
Anhourlater,we’restretchedoutbeneathourfreshlylaunderedblanket—inhalingthefreshscentIcan’tplace.Iglancearoundthetownhouse.It’sjustthetwoofus,withSeanworkinghisnightshiftattheplantandTylerunaccountedfor—ashehasbeenthelastweek—spendingbothhisdaysandnightselsewhere.IsuspectthatifIdrivebacktoDelphine’s,I’dfindhistruckinthedriveway,butIdon’tbothertryingtodrawthatoutofhim.
I’llmakepeacewithDelphineforherconfessionatsomepoint,butthat’snothappeningtonight,asthesamesurgeofprotectivenesssweepsme.Swallowing,IfixateonCeceliaasshewatchesthemovie,completelyrapt,handstillinthepopcornbowl.Grabbingherhand,Iliftitandsucktheremnantsofthecheddarfromherfingers.Sheturnsmywaybriefly,andIreleaseher,feigninginterestinthestoryplayingoutonscreen.WhensheturnsbacktotheTV,Ikeepherhandinmine,runningmythumbalongthebackofherdelicatehandbeforesplayingmypalmnexttohers.Mineroughandcalloused,herssmoothagainstit.Mydigitsthickincomparisontoherslim,delicatefingers.Minecoveredinbloodandwrath,whilehersremainunsoiled.
Whoosh.Whoosh.
“Youhavefoundlove.”Delphine’swhispertricklesin.
Itfoundme.
Whoosh.Whoosh.
“Iloveyou,”Iwhisperindeclarationjustasthunderrattlestheslidingglassdoors,theconfessiondyingwiththatwarningasshelooksovertomeinquestion.“Hmm?”
Whoosh.Whoosh.
Whoosh.Whoosh.
Ijerkmychinslightlyassheturnsbacktothemovie.Isoakinherprofile,takingnoteofthelengthofherlashes,theutterperfectionofhernose,andthefullnessofherlips.Legsdrapedovermylap,shesinksfurtherintothecouchasIwatchinwait.
Eventually,ithappens.Herchestbeginstopump,emotionsemanatingfromher,awhimperleavingherthroatastearsforminhereyes.Turningbacktothescreenasthecluelessassholeprofesseshislove,IglancebacktoseeCeceliabuyingeverysecondofit.
It’ssoeasytoseethatloveisherlifeforce,herreasonforbeing—whatdrivesher.Ididn’tneedtowitnessherwatchingthistoknowitbecauseshe’sjustasemotionalwithme.WhenIlosemyselfinher,whenshelingersaftereveryspokensentimentandthewayshelooksupatmewhenIfuckherslowanddeep.She’sahundredpercentfuckingheart,anditleakseverywhere,nomatterwheresheisorwhatsituationshe’sin.She’sincrediblybraveinthatrespect.
Forthat,Iadmireher.
Forthat,Irespecther.
Forthat,Ifuckingfearforher.
Whenhertearsfinallyspillover,Ileanoverandsnatchonewithmylips.Herbreathhitches,andherwateryeyeszeroinwhenIsweepthesaltcollectedawaywithmytongue.Bitingbackthewordsthatwereneversupposedtoslipfrommylips,Igiveheranothertruth
“You’rebeautiful,Cecelia.”It’sthefirsttimeI’vesaiditwithoutanythingphysicalhappeningbetweenus,andhereyeswidenalittlewiththesentiment.Thiswomanhascompletelyconsumedmeineverywaythatmatters,andsheneedstoknow.
Instead,IpressapromiseintoherasItakeherlipsinakiss—avowwithoutwordsthatI’llprotectherperfectheartasmuchasIcan.
Avowwithoutwordsbutapromisejustthesame.
ApromiseI’lldoeverythinginmypowertokeep.
Lookingintohereyes,Ivowshe’llneverknowaboutthemonstersshecan’tseebecauseI’llslaythemallbeforetheyhaveachancetogettoher.
Evenifthatmonsterisme.Theskydeliveredtonightbeforethesunfullyset.Endlessstarslitterthevastexpanseabovefromwherewelayonmyhood,whereCeceliarests,cradledinmyhold.Myheartbeatssteadilyasshegazesupwithme,musicfilteringfromthecabinofmyCamaro.CricketschirparoundusinofferingwiththerestofthebuddingnightnoiseascontentmentblanketsmeinawayIneverthoughtpossible.
“Dom?”
“Yeah?”
“Whatdoyouwant,youknow,forthefuture?”
Toomuchtoexplain,butshemeanspersonally,andthatanswerissimple,despitetheinklingshe’sgivenmeofsomethingdifferent.Ihavenowayofnavigatingthatinklinginthepresent,soIsticktowhatIdoknow.I’veneverbeenabletopictureapersonalfuturebeyondtheminuteIexistin.
“It’snotastupidquestion,”shepromptswithmildscold.IopenedthiscanofwormsminutesagobytellingherwhatIrememberaboutMamanandPapa,givingherpiecesofthetruthwhileskirtingourparents’mergedpastsandhowtheyfactorintothepuzzle.
ThisquestionIcananswertruthfully.“Nothing.”
Sheaudiblysighs.“Iguessit’sagoodthingyouwon’tbedisappointed.”
Ican’thelpmychuckle.“AmIsupposedtoaskwhatyouwantnow?”
“Notifyoudon’tcare.”
Ido,butIcan’tofferittoyou.
Ituckmyfingersintohersilkyhairbeforevoicingmoretruth.“I’mnotfuturecentered.Plansdon’tmaketheman.”
BecauseItriedthattacticandwasblockedateveryturn.
“Iknow,Iknow.Liveinthenow.Takeeachdayasitcomes,”sherecites,“Igetit,butisn’ttheresomethingyouwant?”
I’mholdingit.
“No,”Ijest,“butthere’sobviouslysomethingyoudo.”
Shestayssilentforlongbeats,stiffeningslightlyinthecrookofmyarm.We’vebeencopaceticsinceIacceptedmyfall,butsomethingtellsmewhat’sstirringinsidehernowhasnothingtodowithmyrefusaltogiveherpromises.
Knowingshe’sgettinglostinherthoughts,Igentlynudgeher.“What?”
“Idon’tlikeputtingavoicetomyfears.Becausethen,Icanonlyexpectthemtocometrue.”
“That’sbleak,”Imutter.
“It’sbetterthannotwantinganythinginthefuture,”shecountersdryly.
“Ialreadyknowwhathappens,”Iwhisper.
“Whatdoyoumean?Youcanpredictthefuture?”
Inafleetingsecond,IconjuretheblueprintItuckedawayforwhenthetimeisright.“IcanpredictminebecauseImakeshithappen.”
“Whatisit?”shequestions.
“WhateverIdecide.”
WhenI’mfinallyunshackled.
“Justforonce,canyougivemeastraightanswer?”
Ican’thelpthetwistofmylipsasIrunmyeyesdownthelengthofher.ShefloateddownRoman’sporchstepshoursago,lookingeverybitmyrealizedfantasyforourdate.
Ourfirst,andmine.AsecretIkeeptomyself.ButasecretIsharewithher.Onlyher.HergreetingassheenteredtheCamarowassoft-spoken,“Imissedyou.”AgenuinelywhisperedsentimentI’vecometorelyon—whichkeepsmeachingtoreturnit.
IdideverythingIcouldtomakeitmemorable.IdeniedtheeasyaffectionsIgiveherbehindcloseddoorsbecauserightnow,I’mnolongerindailycommunicationwithTobias—Ithinkit’sbecausehemaybeontous.Hedidn’tanswermylasttextafterIghostedhimbrieflywhentheweatherpermitted.Butifhehascaughtwindofourdeception,wemayverywellbeunderawatchwehaven’tdetectedyet,whichhasmeupinarms.
Thefamiliar,illfeelingstartstosinkin,andIbanishitbycraningmyneckenoughtopeeroverather.Spottingasmearofblackbeneathhereyes,mygazeslowlydropstoherswollen,thoroughlykissedlips,focusdriftingbetweenthefaintmarksonherneckandchest.EvidenceofwhenIravagedherthesecondwepulledup.Twice.Fixatingonthefreshlyfuckedlookofher,IrevelintheslightimperfectionsIcreatedandhowtheygotthere.“Whatwasthequestion?”
“Doyouevergetjealous?”
“No.”Awhitelie.Butnotforanyconclusionshemaydraw.
“Why?”
“BecausehecangiveyouthingsIcan’t,”Iadmithonestly.
Seancanfreelyexpresshimselftoher,whereasI’mlimited.Hisinkisetchedskindeep,andthoughhispromiseisgenuine,it’sultimatelyuptohimtokeepstockinit.Evenifthewordsarethereforme,too—alongwiththeneedtoclaimherintotality—bothofushavewithheldstakingthatclaimandputtingavoicetoitwithsomuchdeceitbetweenus.Untilsheknowsthewholetruth,Ican’tutterthem—whereSeanmight.Becauseunderneathmyinkisabloodtiemadewithmybrother,whichbindsmefrombeinganythingmorethanwhatIamtohernow.That’swhereanyjealousyIharborlies.
“I’mnotcomplaining,”shewhispers,“pleasedon’tthinkthat,butwhycan’tyou?”
“BecauseI’mnotlikehim.I’malotsimpler.”Evennow,itremainsthetruth.
“Idon’tbelievethat,”sheinsists.
“It’strue.”Theguiltgnawsdeeper,eatingawayatmyresolve.Atthispoint,I’mstrugglingdailytocountthenumberofliesIkeeptoholdmysecrettothetruthsIcanreveal,andit’sfuckingcrippling.
Sensingmydiscomfort,shetracesmyjawinacaressthathasmeachingwhilevoicingherdeclaration.“Youareanythingbutsimple.”
“Myneedsare.Idon’twantthingslikeotherpeople.”EvenifIcouldimagineafutureformyself,Idon’tseeanythingresemblingthetypeofpersonalfuturesomanyothersstrivefor.
“Why?Whytrainyourselfforsuchsimplicitywhenyouareworthsomuch…”Mychestcavesinwiththelookshegiftsme,theonethatmakesmefeelinvincible.“Youaresomuchmorethanwhatyouletpeoplesee—thanwhatyougiveyourselfcreditfor.”
“That’sthepoint.”
Sheholdsmyeyeshostagewithhernextquestion.“Whywon’tyouletpeopleknowyou?”
You’remypeople.“Youknowme.”
HereyessoftentothepointIalmostlookaway,thedeceittearingatmyinsidesasshespeaksagain,nailingmewithright-hooksentiment.“AndI’mlucky.”
JesusChrist.
“Youareanythingbut.”
“Pleasejuststopthat…”shecutsherselfoffbeforediggingin.“Youdon’thavelowself-esteem.What’swiththisglibshit?”
BecauseifIvoicemyownfears,Iknowthey’llmanifestbymyownfuckingdoing,andI’llloseyou.
Iswallow.“Thereissomuchyoudon’tknow.”
“Iwantto,Dom.Iwanttoknowallsidesofyou.”
“Youdon’t,Cecelia,youthinkyoudo,butyoudon’t.”ThevowImadestrengthenswithinmethatshewillneverglimpsethedarkIdoembrace.
“YouthinkIwon’tcareforyoulikeIdo?”
“Thingswillchange.”It’stheabsolutetruth,andevenasknowledgeableassheisthankstoSean—andasstrongasshe’sbecoming—theflipsideofourrealityandthelifeIliveunderherradarissometimestoomuchformetohandle.
“Idon’tcare,”shedeclares,palmingmychest.“Iwantin.Pleaseletmein.”
IcanbarelycontainthestingbuildinginmythroatasIremainmute.Afterseveralbeatsofmyforcedsilence,sherelents.“Okay,okay.”Shepressesakisstomyjaw.“It’shardbeingwithyou.It’sjusthardsometimes.”
TheburnthatstatementcauseshasmelosingmygripbrieflyasIletherinonthemostimportanttruth,atruthshemadefact.“Youarein.”
Shelooksbackupatme,andIseeitsoclearly.
Shelovesme.
Wordsseemmeaninglesscomparedtowhatthrumsbetweenus,butIseethosedamningwordsformingaswegazeateachother,mypulsespikingasIsoakinherexpressionandseeitsodistinctly,sointently,it’sunmistakable.
Shelovesme.
Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.
Coveringhermouthwithmypalm,Istopherattempttovoicethembecauseifsheuttersasingleone,Imightnotevercomebackfromit.“Don’twastegoodwordsonme.”
Shelovesme.
Knowingisenough.ButIrefusetorecitethosewordsunlessIcanactonthem.Asofrightnow,Ican’t.
HereyessearchasIkeepmypalminplacetosilenceherandthinkofanywaytooffsetthestingIknowI’mcausing.“It’sokay,Cecelia.I’masclosetohappyasamanlikemedeserves.”
It’sallIhaveleftforheruntilIsortthroughthedebriscollectingdailybetweenus.
Chestalightwiththeawarenessofherunspokendeclaration,westarebackupatthesky,whichfeelslikeit’speeringbackatus,layingwitness.Gettinglost,mymindwandersasIengagethem,questioningwhetherthecosmosreallyhasanythingtodowithourlifepath—ifdestinyandfatetrulyplayaroleinanyone’slife.Tobiasforgedourpath,andIlatchedon.Iwonderbrieflyifhesawmewithhimwhenhedidorifitwashisdestinyalonethatheinvitedustobeapartof.Ifthat’sthecase,it’salwaysfeltright.Feltlikemine,justasthewomanbesidemedoes.Wordlessly,IaskthevisiblegalaxycomprisedofsentinelstarswhatthefutureholdsforuswhileknowingI’mstuckinlimboforananswer.
Whichisfuckingtorment.
Tobias’sreturnisimminent.Icanfeelitwitheveryfiberofmybeing.Withthatcoming,ourfutureremainsunknown.Evenso,Ifeelthesteadybeatofmyheartdrivingmeforwardtofacewhateveriswaitingontheothersideofthis.WhatCeceliaandIhaveisworthstandinggroundfor,butcomingcleanmeansexposingTobiascompletelyandendangeringtheclub—Icouldneverdothat.Ourpurposeisaboutsomuchmorethanourselfishneedsandwehavelivelihoodsthatrelyonthesuccessofourclubandlivesliterallydependentonit.Ican’tthrowthatawayorbethatselfish.
Thereinliesthecruxoffalling,givingmerittoTobias’sconsistentwarningofentanglementsandthismindfuckofasituationwithnoviablesolutionIcanconceiveof.Inthiscase,thetruthwillnotfuckingsetusfree,butdamnus.
“Haveyouhurtpeople?”Ceceliaasks,bringingmebacktothehood,toher.
Ianswerwithsilence.ThattruthandthosedetailsaresomethingImighteventuallyconfesswithtime—ifherplaceisclaimedandacceptedamongstus.If,somehow,shecanforgivemeforthelies.
“DoImakeyouhappy?Evenalittle?”
Stupidquestion.ButIansweritwithaslow,deepkiss,pressingthattruthintoheruntilshe’sthoroughlyconvinced.
Gatheringherfrommyhoodjustafter,Ihoisthertowraparoundme,carryinghertowardthepassengerdoor,amblingslightlyuntilherbreathcatches.
Fuck.
“Dom,didyoujustswayyourhips?”
Busted.
Thoughshroudedinthedark,Iseehereyesbuggingwidealongwithhersmile.“O.M.G.Didyoujustdancealittlewithme?!”
Sighing,Ipressmyforeheadtohers.“Cecelia?”
“Yes?”Shebeamsbackatme.
“Whenyoucallmeoutforthisshit,itstops.Haven’tyoufiguredthatoutbynow?”
“Thatyou’reaclosetromanticandloveit,”shedropsdrastically.“Yes.Ifiguredthatoutagesago.You’rereallynotthatsmartnorsmooth,King.”
Openingthepassengerdoor,Idumpherunceremoniouslyintotheseat.“Dateover.”
HerlaughtertrailsmeevenasIslamthedooronit,hidingmygrinuntilI’minthedriver’sseat.
SeansummonsusbytextjustasIhitthemainroad.Shifting,IturninthatdirectioncatchingaflashofCecelia’shairinmyperipheral.Rippingmyeyesfromthevacantstreet,Iglanceovertoseeherheadrestingagainsttheseat,headtiltedtowardthebreeze,gazetrainedupatthesky.
Thisishappy.
Sensingmystare,shelooksbackatme,asmilecrackingherface,andwithit,shestealsthelastuncharteredpieceofme.
Asthatelationscoresthroughme,it’smutedslightlybytheanxietythat’sbeentricklinginforthelastfewdays.I’llmakeitapointtogetaholdofTobiassoonandtalktoSeanabouthowinthefuckwe’regoingtosortthis.Ijusthavetobelievemybrotherwillhearmewhenthetimecomes.
Whenwepulluptothegarage,CeceliaspotsSean’scarandhopsout,tossingalookmywayasItrailher,noticinghisistheonlyoneintheparkinglot.Iassumedhistextwasasummonstojoinwhateverfestivitiesweregoingon.Knowingwe’realone,Tylerabsent,andwonderingwhyhesummonedusboth,everystepbecomesheavierasIfollowherintothebay.Stridingin,myheartfuckingstopsalongwithmyfootingwhenSeanlockseyeswithmewhileCeceliaracestowardhim.
Heknows.
DreadfiltersthroughmeasSeanforcesasmileforCeceliawhilebloodpulsesinmyears.
Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.
EverybitofthecontentmentIjustfoundgetsrippedawayasmyheartthrasheswiththeknowledge—heknows.SeanandCecelia’sconversationspartiallymutedwiththeerraticbeat.
“…uptonogood?”
Whoosh.Whoosh.
“Always.”
Whoosh.Whoosh.
“…mygirl.”
Thosewordscrushmeassheinquiresabouteveryoneelse’swhereabouts,andSeantellsherhe’stakingherhomesowecantalk.Herconfusedeyesdartbetweenusasmyinsidesstarttorattle,feelinglikethey’reabouttobreakapart.
Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.
Ceceliareadsusbotheasilyandputsavoicetoit.“Areyousafe?”
Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.
“…isanillusion,baby.”
Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.
“…foronce,canyoulietome?”
Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.
“…hatethegroundyouwalkon.”
Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh
Sean’seyesfindmineonceagain.
“When?”Whendidyoufindout?
“Now.”WhenItextedyou.
“Fuck,”IsweepCeceliafromheadtofootasanxietytakeshold.“Getherhome.”
SeanmovestousherCeceliaaway,andsherefuseshim,rushingtowardmeinsteadasourcloudstartstodisburse.Whenshereachesme,Isweepherintoakiss,feelingthebreakstartinsideasshesurroundsme.Clingingtoeverysecond,desperationlacesthelastpressofmylips.“Yougottago,baby.”
IkeephergazeforaslongasIcan,burningitin,knowingthenexttimeoureyesmeet,thatlookmayonlybeglimpsedinmemory.
Seanwhisksheraway,andit’sthebrushofourfingersassheliterallyslipsthroughmyhands,andourcoverdisappearsthatdoesmein.Asshevanishesfrommyperipheral,thelossconsumesme,andIboilover.
Destroyingeverythinginmypath,thecrashesfuelmeasIfuckingrageagainstthelaughingheavenswhodupedmeintothinkingthisrealitywaspossible.ArealitywhereIgottokeepthegirlandeverythingelseIholdclose.ButIcan’texactlyblamethembecauseIcalledonthemtoolate.Ican’tblamefateorthefortunethat’sneverbeenonmyside,oranyone…butmyself.IforgedmyownfuturefromtheminuteIwascapableandchosethisfate.Itwasonlyinevitablethatafterignoringeverycrackleofwarningintheskyandeveryrumblingstepthatfollowedoutsidemywindow,theheartlessgiantIhelpedtocreatewouldfinallyappear
Tryingtoreasonwithloveisfuckingpointless.Itdoesn’tcareaboutyourreasons,rightorwrong.Lovehasnoregardforcircumstance,nordoesitgiveafuckwhatstateitputsyouin.It’sarelentlessandunforgivingemotionthatwillneverletyoulietoyourself.—Tobias,TheFinishLine“Please,Dom.Pleasedon’tgo.”
Hellexists.
Hell’scurrentgeographiclocation?Paris
Thecitymybrotherconqueredinhisearlytwentiesanddeclaredourrighteousprison.
Hell’sdefinition?ReplayingthelastyearandchangeonaloopwhilequestioningmydecisionsandthechoiceImadeeverysecondofeverydaysince.
BecausetheGiantdidn’tappear.
No,Tobiaswaitedthreeagonizingweekstocomehome.Weeksinwhichwepleadedwithhimtoreturnourcallsandtexts.WeekswhereSeanandIlostourgoddamnedminds,completelyunawareofwherehisowncognizancewasat—alongwithhiswhereaboutsandintentionsforus—Tylerincluded.
TobiaseitherfigureditoutbeforehemadethebirdIchargedtowatchhimorspottedhisfeatheredtailjustafter—becausehedroppedofftheradar.Thisleftusscramblinginhiswake,onlytoimagineandpreparefortheworst.
Fortwoofthoseweeks,CeceliafledtoGeorgiawithabrokenheart—aheartthatweshatteredbydesigninanattempttogetamessagetohim.Themysteryofwhospilledoursecretremainsunknown.Itwasabirdoutsideofourinnercircle,ofthatmuchwewerecertainasweformulatedaplan.
Saidplanwasasmuchofafool’splotastheoneweusedtobetrayTobias.Which,inturn,cleavedmeintwo—leavingmeindual,measuredpiecesburningintheaftermath.Onepartwasonfireforher,theother,siftingthroughthesingedremnantsforanyremainingbondwithmybrother.
WatchingCeceliacrumbleinthegaragewhilerealizingwhatvindictiveactionswe’recapableofwasoneofthemostbrutalexperiencesI’veeverendured.
Ibrokemyownvowtoguardherimmaculateheartinastupidfuckingattempttodistanceherfromourdeceitandkeephersafelyawayfrommybrother’swrath.
Witnessingherspiral—whichfeltlikeitplayedoutinslowmotion—furtherwidenedthefractureinsideme,especiallywhenherdeepbluesbeseechedusforanysignitwasn’tthetruth.Seanhadgivenmetheammotomakeitconvincing,anditwas.Tooconvincing.
Forme,atthetime,itwastheonlywaytotrytodistanceherfromthepathofdestructioncomingourway.Whilealsoattemptingtomaskthetruthuntilwehadachancetoexplainourselves.
WhenSeanbrokeatthesightofit,hispunchfeltlikeabeestingcomparedtotheguttingIfeltasshecriedopenly—whichfurtherdrovetheslowsinkoftheknifeintomychestasitpiercedherownduetoourgiftofprecision.Everyagonizingsecondofwatchingherfallapartinthatgaragewillforeverbeingrainedinmymemory.
Thoseweeksoftormenthaveonlyledtomoreinthosethatfollowed,headinguptotheminutesthatnowhauntmyeverywakinghour.
“Please,Dom.Pleasedon’tgo.”
Aftertwoweeksofdeservedsilencefromthetwopeopleweannihilatedforourselfishgain,SeanandIdecidedthatwhenandifCeceliareturnedtotheplant,SeanwouldcomecleanaboutRoman.Thusrevealinghimastheprimesuspectinmyparents’deathandourrevengeplanswhileomittingTobias.Awaytofurtherprepareherwhilegivingherleverageinanefforttogainsomeofhertrustback.
Ariskwedecidedwasworthtakingifweonlyimplicatedourselves.We’dalreadygivenheraccesstotheclub,howweworked,andourtrust.
Decisionmade,whenshereturnedfromGeorgia,wekeptourdistancefromRoman’shouse.Wewereflyingblind,unknowingifhewasalreadybackintheStatesorwhomightbewatchingandreportingoureverymove.
Themindfuckofmymissingbrotherfeltlikeapunishmentinandofitself.Despitetheburnherabsencecaused,IhopedCeceliawouldstayinGeorgiatoavoidbeingonacollisioncoursewithwhateverwascominguntilwecoulddosomedamagecontrol.Herreasonforreturningwasselfless,andIknewithadeverythingtodowithhermother—whichonlyintensifiedmyguilt.
Thedayafterherreturn,IlostmyshitandwentAWOL,strayingfromeverythought-outdecisionSean,Tyler,andIhadagreedupon.Seanwassettointerceptherfirstwithpartsofthetruth,butIallowedmyneedtotakeover—starvingforthesightofher.IknewmybehaviorwasfuckingborderlineasIdrovelikethefour-lettercursedmanI’dbecome.IwasdrivingdowntheroadnexttoRoman’smansion,hopingshewouldhearmyenginebeforeidlingnearbyontheoffchanceshecameoutofhiding.
Eventually,shedid,spottingmeonthesideoftheroadbeforeleadingmeonastreetchase,intentonlosingme.
AfterrealizingitwasapointlesscrusadeIwasnotbackingawayfrom,shepulledoverandcameoutswingingwithwarinhereyes.Deliveringdeathblowafterdeathblow,herstingingheartvoicingeverybrutaldelivery.MyemotionsweresoalloverthefuckingplacethatIactedafoolbyallowingthemtocloudmyjudgment.InsteadofbehavingorsayingwhatIshouldhave,Iwasapologizingonesecond,filledwithpridethenextforherfieryreturn,androckfuckinghardafterherwickeddisplayofbackboneandvoicingasmuch.“You’vecomealongway.”
“Isthatsupposedtobeacompliment?”
Itwas,andadmittedlyill-timed.Herreceptionpulledmeinanddrovemetokisshervenomaway,whileherviciousbacklashfueledmetotryandbridgetheseparation.
Duringthatexchange,IknewIwouldloveherthrougheverybitofwhateverourfuturebrought—owningittoTobiasandtakinganypenaltymybrotherdoledout.Itoldherasmuchwithmydeclaration.“Ihavetoletyougofornow,butIdon’tfuckingwantto…Idon’thaveachoice,buteverythingIdonow,it’sforyou.”
Shefoughtmebrutally,butintheend,Iknewtherewasforgivenessthere—inbothourhearts,wewerefarfromover.Evenwiththehard-edged,internalchangeinhermakeupfromthedamageSeanandIcaused,itwasevidentshewasreadytofacemybrother—ifithappened—andwhateverhellhebroughtwithhim.
ThatIwasreadyfor,thatIwaspreparedfor.WhatIwasn’tpreparedforwasthecompleteandutterdevastationthatgreetedSeanandmewhenTobiasfinallyarrivedbackinTripleFallsbeforehe,too,openlycrackedinfrontofus.
“ThiswasforMamanandPapa,Dom.Weweresoclose,brother.Why?”
Hisvoicewasraggedandbroken—decimating.Evenaswestood,lineduplikethesoldiersheraisedustobe—chinsliftedtoacceptourfatewhiledeterminedtopleadourcase—inseeingthedamagewe’ddone,webothfaltered.Themoreheunraveled,themoreourargumentpaled,ourfightlesseningasheleaptbetweenagonyandfury—bothdevastating.“Tellme,brothers…wordforword,howyoudeceivedmeforthreemonths.”
Oursentencepassed?Tenmonths.Tenfuckingmonths.
ThreetimesasmanyasIadmittedwe’dbeendeceivinghim,addinganothertoensureweknewjusthowmuchhisfaithinushadbeendestroyed.
“Tellmeeverysinglethingyoudid,everypurposefullieyoutoldme,everymoveyoumadetobetraymethisway,tokeepmeinthedark,andthen…tellmehowyoulove…tellmeyouloveme.”
Withoureveryobjectionrefusedanddismissed—evenafteropenlyadmittingwelovedher—weagreedtohissoul-crushingsentence.
Whathetoldusnexthadusreeling.Beforewe’dhadachancetointercept,TobiashadoutedhimselftoCecelia.SeanandIfirmlybelievedatthetimethatcollisionannihilatedanyhopeswehadofconvincinghimofherplacewithus.ThathesawwhatIsawwhenhelaidhiseyesonher.Thatheperceivedherasana?veandinnocentgirlwithnobusinessinourbusiness,noplaceinourworld,andnopromise.Hehadnotasinglefucktogiveaboutanyofouradmissionsbecausehecouldn’tseepasthisdevastation.
“Ican’tevenfuckinglookatyou!”
Hehasn’tsince.Notonce.
Drunktothepointofnearlypassingout,hiswordsandmindsetwerecrystalclear.AsTylerdroveTobiasaway,wechosehissentenceandtheclub,ourbrothers,andourpurpose,believingiftherewasawaytogetherback,tolessenitslength,we’dfindit.ThatTobiaswouldforgiveus,reduceourtime,andbringushome.
Itwashisultimatumofnocontactwithherthathadusrawaswetiedupanylooseendsbeforewebrokeourlivesdownintoboxes.SeanandIturningoverourtownhousekeystoTylerasmoversherdedourshitouttostorageuntilourfuturewasdecided.MysuspicionswerethatTylerwasalreadylivingelsewhereandremainedtight-lippedaboutitduringthemove.NeitherofusgavehimshitaboutitbecausehesparedushisownbacklashforhisstrainedrelationshipwithTobias,alongwithapromisetovigilantlywatchoverCecelia.
Thisisallwecouldaskforbecauseevenashedidpromisetoguardher,wedidn’tgettoknowanythingelse.
Butitwasthelastday—thedaywewereleavingfortheairport,thatrefusedandstillrefusestoreleaseme.
“RBjusttexted,”Seansays,checkinghisburnerbehindthewheelbeforeturninghisengineover.“Cecelia’sattheAppleFestival.Alone.I’mgoing.”
“No,”Ijerkmyhead,evenasmyheartbeatrampedup.
“Ihaveto,man,”hisvoiceaplea.“Ihavetoseeher.Givehersomething,”hesnappedashepulledoutofKing’sgarage,turninginthedirectionofMainStreet—decisionsolidified.“Tenfuckingmonths,Dom.”
Ilostthatdisputebeforeitstarted,toolostinmyownshittoputupmuchofafight—allofitdrainedfrommewiththedreadofthemonthsahead.MyrealbattlebeganasIsatidleinhisNova,handonthehandleashellaciousminutestickedbyandourflighttimedrewcloser.Mereblocksaway,shewassomewhereinthecrowd,awareofthetruthaboutmyparentsandTobias’sexistence,awarethatweliedandmanipulatedher,butunawareofwhereweweregoingandforhowlong.Forbiddentomakehercognizantunlesswewantourwingsclipped.TheonlythingIurgedSeantotellherandherefusedbeforeexiting.“I’vealreadytoldherthatdayiscoming,andshe’llwait,Dom.Shewill.”
Aftertenminutesinthatfuckingcar,theoverwhelmingurgetoleaveherwithsomethingfrommehadmesteppingoutjustasSeanstalkedbackdownthealleytohisdriver’sdoor,lookingasfuckedasIfelt.HisreturnhadmyhearthittingconcretethatImissedmyownwindow.Wehadaplanetocatch,andifwemissedit,wemayneverflyagain.MydashedhopeshadmespiralinguntilIturnedandsawCeceliaracingstraighttowardus.
Towardme.
Stoppingfeetawayasshelookedup,andoureyesconnected.
“Please,Dom.Pleasedon’tgo.”
Turningtowardthewindow,insteadofthelate-nightbackdrop,allIcanvisualizeisthatsun-drencheddayinanalleythousandsofmilesaway.AmomentintimeIcan’tgetback,nomatterhowfuckingmuchIwantit.Idon’tevenhavetoclosemyeyestoseeitvividly—longhairblowingaroundherface,wateryblueeyespleadingastearsformerolldownhercheeks,handspressedtoherchestwithherconfession.
“Iloveyou.”
ItwastheoppositeofwhatIexpected.
Itwasn’tangerthatgreetedmewhenshecorneredSeanandmeinthatalleybutamixofdeterminationandvulnerabilityinherexpressionbeforeshefellapartwithherconfession.We’dreadiedherasmuchaswecouldwithoutthefulltruth,butjudgingfromthelookofher,shewassufferingasmuchaswewere.Sheknewthetruthaboutourdeception,andshestilllovedus.
Lovedme.
Therewasnotraceofhatredforthefactwe’dwrongedhersohorribly,liedtoher,deceivedher.Shetrackedmedown.She’dfollowedSeantomakesureIknewshelovedme.ThatnomatterwhereIwastakingthatlove,shewaswillingtoletmepackandpartwithit,evenifIdidn’tdeserveit.
AllIcanseeisanguishtwistingherflawlessface,thedesperationinhervoiceasshemovedtowardme,andIjerkedmychin,refusingher,denyingusbothasmybrother’swarningplayedbarrier.
Butthetruereasonwas,ifIsomuchastookanothersteptowardher,Ineverwouldhavegottenbackinthatcar.
ButImadethedecision.Ichosemybrotherandtheclub.Ilefthertherewithoutreturningthesentimentorgivingheranythingshedeservedaftershedidtheimpossibleandforgaveme.
LeavingthosewordsunreturnedisaregretI’llcarryuntilthedayIdie,evenifIdogetachanceatredemption.Ineveroncetrulydeservedherlove,trust,loyalty,orfaithfulheart.
Fuckmybrotherfordenyingmethatmoment,forbeingtheveryreasonI’mrippedrightdownthefuckingmiddleandhavebeenfortheselongtorturousfuckingmonths.It’sbeenfartoomanydayssinceI’velaideyesonher,heardhervoice,herlaugh,drankinthelookinhereyes,touchedher,fuckedher,letmyselfloveher.
Everymilebetweenusrippedmeapartaswespedtowardtheairport.Seanremainedwordlesstheentireride.ItwasonlywhenwesilentlycommiseratedinwaitfortheplanethatSeanagaintriedtoconsoleme,suretyinbothtoneanddelivery.“She’llwaitforus,Dom.Shewill.”
ItwasasourflightwasabouttoboardthatitoccurredtomethatTobiasandCeceliamighthavecollidedatRoman’shouse.It’swhenIvoicedasmuchtoSean—realizingthatIwasstillprivytothecamerafeed—thatheperkedupasIfranticallysearchedtherecordedstorageofthatday.Secondslater,mythroatburnedasweweregrantedapartinggift.
Asourflightwascalled,SeanandIwatchedthesoundlessstandoffplayoutfromeveryangleatthepool.MortifiedasTobiashoveredoverherandtriedtohumiliateherbyhidingherbikinitop,whichhadusbothfuckingfuming.
Itwasafterenduringafewtenseminutesofhisberatingthatshecamebackswingingwiththesameferocity,hittinghimwiththelotionbottleinthebackoftheheadasSeanandIsharedapride-filledexpressionandloudchuckle,bothofusinfuckingaweofher.Thoughwecouldn’thearadamnedwordofit,wedidn’treallyhaveto,thebodylanguagebetweenthemtellingenoughfromwhatwecaught.Fromthesecondtheycollided—ourworstfearplayingoutbeforeoureyes—weknewthatconversationwasdamned.Hostileposturingtookplaceonbothends,andthebackandforthwasintensebeforeCeceliafinallysnappedandengagedhimwithherrealpower—pleadingwithherhearttohisretreatingback.Sean’seyesreddenedaswebothwatchedherwhiledraggingoursuitcasesdownthejetway,knowingthatwhatevershewassayingwasforus—whileshehopedherheart-filledpleawouldsomehowsinkin.
Afterwatchingitagain,Seanspokeup,red-rimmedeyesonmine.“Leaveittoourgirltohaveuslustingafterheronesecond,terrifiedthefuckingnext,andlaughingbeforeleavingusachingandinaweofher.Weneverhadachance,Dom.”Hisnextwordswerejarring,partserious,partjoke,asheglancedbackatthescreenwithalove-soakedexpression.“Ifsheeverfuckingforgivesus,let’sfuckingmarryher.”
Wewatchedthefootagetwicemorebeforewewereforcedtopowerdowntheburner,bothofusequallyasfuckedup.Guiltedbythefightshegaveforus—whichwefailedtogiveforher—wesharedalonglookbeforemanninguptostartservingoursentence.Hiswordsmimickingmythoughtsaswespeddowntherunway.“She’sworthit.”
Nevertruerwordsspoken.
Butwheretimeusedtoblurforme,anddaysanddatespassedwithoutremembrance,thedaysandnightsIspentwithherappearwitheverybeatinmychest,anengravedtimestamp.
IsworeIwouldtrytoforgethertheminuteTobiaslookedatmethewayhedidthenightheconfrontedusintheparkinglot—faceetchedwithdevastation.Itwasasifherealizedweweren’tworthit—thatIwasn’tworthit.
ItwastheworstI’veeverfeltinmylife,nexttoleavingherinthatalley.
ItwasasifSeanandIhadbrokenhim,andinaway,Ithinkwedid.
AllIwantedtodowasmakeitright,fuckmyheart,andthetroubleitcausedme.Fuckmeforknowingwhatgettinginvolvedwithherwoulddotohimandfallinganyway,butIhaven’tbeenabletobringmyselftoregretit.
“Iloveyou.”
Myeyespopopenasthoughshe’swhispereditdirectlyintomyear.Thoselastcuttingsecondsparalyzemetoaplace,inthatalley,thousandsofmilesaway,toanunreachablepointintime,whereIexist—inpurgatory.
“Iwantin.Pleaseletmein.”
“Youarein.”
“You’reintoodeep,baby.Fuck,”Iwhisperasaflashoflightningfillstheroom,andsleepingformslightuparoundme.
Anotherrainyday.Withouther.
Runningmyhandthroughmycroppedhair,Imovetositattheedgeofthebed—skinslickedwithsweatduetotheuselessunitrecyclingmoldyairinthecorner.Clenchingmyfists,myheartjogsintopanicmodeattheideathatshe’llbeleavingTripleFallswhenthesummerends.
She’stwentynow,herfutureabouttokickoff,andifRomankepthisword,she’samillionaire.Herworldisstillwideopen,heroptionslimitless,whileminefeelslikeit’sstartingtocloseinonme.Aspromised,Icuteverycommunicationwithher.
We’vebeenflyinginthedarkfortheentiretyofourtimehere,andthekicker?It’svoluntary.
Ifacaseforasilverliningcouldbemade,it’sthatwe’vemadegoodprogressinourtimehere.I’vemetrelativeswho’veenlightenedmefurtheraboutmyparents—beforetheybecameparents.Thestoriesarewildand,attimes,unbelievable.AboutDelphineaswell,whohadacolorfulpast,too.Inowknowsheomittedpartsofittospareme,butthosedetailshadmemakingpeacewithalot,andI’llmakeitapointtoletherknowthat.TobiasandIhaditbreezycomparedtoher.Tothisday,Ican’tbelieveshesurvivedwhatshehas—forthat,she’searnedmyrespect
Lightningflashesagain,fillingtheroom.ArumbleofthunderfollowsasIcrackmyneck,musclesfatiguedfrommyearlierstruggletoday.WesuccessfullyexecutedourlastcoupbeforeourreturntoTripleFalls.Onewe’vebeenplanningforweeks.Ihadaclosecall,wrestlingwithafuckertwicemysize,whospitputridbreathandFrenchinmyfacebeforeImanagedtogetmybarreltohischinandendhistiradepermanently.
SeanandIbothpassedonthecelebratorydinneranddrinksoffered,muchtoourchaperone’sdismay.WhileSeansleepsaboveme,ourdesignatedbabysitters—JulienandAlbert—snoreintheirequallylumpybunksontheothersideoftheroom.AllofmyroommatesareinanexhaustedsleepthatI’vefailedtofollow.
JulienhasbeenmybiggestallyinmylastsixmonthsheresincewemadeourwayfromthesoutherncoastofFrancetotheoutskirtsofParis—and,asofaweekago—movedtothisdumpsterhostelwithinthecity.EventhoughourstintinFranceisvoluntary,asthemonthspassed,weseemedtogofromremoteareastoeventuallygraduatingtoacity.MaybeatacticofTobias’stoinformuswordlesslythatwe’regraduallyearninghistrustback.
Inthatrespect,we’vefuckingearnedit.
Creditwhereit’sdue,Julienistheonewho’smadethistimeforusmostfruitful.Freshoutofhisfive-yearstintintheFrenchmilitary,Julienwasbroughtin,inconsiderationofgettinginkedbyOrmand,oneofTobias’sFrenchravenpartners.JuliensparkedmyinterestimmediatelywithhiscalculatedmovesandthefactthatIgotlittlepasthim—notthatItriedmuch.AfterdoingalittlediggingbywayofAlbert—who,frankly,istoofuckingslowontheuptaketocoverSeanandme—IfoundJulien’smilitarytrainingandimpressiveeducationmadehimaprimecandidateandrecruitformeandthepurposeIarmedmyselfwithwhenIgottoFrance.
Thatsaid,Julien’sastubbornsonofabitch,somuchso,it’ssometimescomical.Ittookmealmostaweektogethisattentioninprivatetotryandconvincehimofwhomhewasguardingduringhisgruntworkphaseasarecruitoftheclub.ToconvincehimthatIwasthebrotherofthemanbehindthecurtain,thehalf-Frenchhalf-Americanringleaderrunningthisshow.HeclearlysawusasnomorethantwoarrogantAmericanassholesintheirmid-twentiesthathehadtomonitorforreasonsunknowntohim.
Ilethiminonthatsecret.
He’snotmuchofaromanticandcomicallyberatedmeandSeanforitforhours.Itwashilarious.
OnceIfinallygotthroughtothefucker,myinstinctspaidoffinspades.Bydayaswedidourrecononravenmarks,healsohelpedmegathersomemuch-neededintelI’dbeenlackingandinsearchofforyears.
ItwasalsowhenIrealizedhowfarAntoinehadhishooksintomybrotherandwhatleverageheholdsoverhishead.TobiasnotonlystrengthenedtheFrenchfuck’sorganizationinreturnforminimalhelp,certainconnections,andprivilegesbuthe’salsomadeitthestrongestandmostfearedundergroundkingdominFrance.Byreputationalone,noonewilldarecrossAntoine,andit’sTobias’sgoddamnfault.
He’sfuckingcreatedanearindestructiblearmy,andifhesomuchasstepsinthewrongdirectionwithAntoine,thelandminesmybrotherhimselfsetwillblowupinhisface.Wearen’tgoingoutlikethis.Irefusetolethimbebeholdentothissickfuck.HewantsmenowherenearAntoine.It’sclearwhy—I’mmybrother’sonlyweakness.
IbelieveAntoineknowsit,nomatterhowgoodTobias’spokerfaceis.Inturn,Tobiashasbecomeamonster’spuppet—forme.
AfactIcannotturnmybackon.Afactthathammeredthatguiltnailin,cementingmeheretoservemytimeandrectifythesituation.
Julieniskey.
Becausehe’snotatallonTobias’sradar—agruntonthebottomofthebirdchain—Juliencanslipoutatanytimeunnoticed.Wedon’tworklikeotherorganizationswithdeaththreatsuntiltheinkdries.Eventhen,it’snotablood-outsituation.WithJulienandIdiligentlyworkingtoputaplaninplace,asoftoday,wecementedalong-termstrategytogetmybrotheroutofAntoine’sclutchesandbringhimdownwhiletakingoverthearmyTobiashimselfbuilt.
Inamatterofayearortwo,JulienwillbethefirstundercoverraventoinfiltrateAntoine’sarmy.Onceestablishedthere,he’llstarttherecruitmentprocesstolureinotherravenstocreateaneffectivesleepinggiant.Whenawokenatthemostoptimaltime—sadlyforAntoine—itwillbegameover.Thisgianttoservethesamepurposeandbejustaseffectiveifexecutedproperly.Itwilltaketime,butitwillwork.
Sean’sawareofit,andassoonasIcansafelybriefTyler,he’llbetheonlyothertoknow.
Butthesaddertruthofdiscoveringtheflipsideofmybrother’sworldistheconditioninwhichhelives.Asoldierwithoutatruehome,withabsolutelynothingbutthemoveshemakesandthehandshecontinuallyplays.Ifull-onfuckingcriedwhenIrealizedwhatlengthshe’stakentogetustowhereweare—alongwiththedepthofhisperpetualloneliness.Thattheluxuriesheclaimstolovemightbeamirageoranattempttomasktheisolationhemustfeel.
Ahobbythatcameoutofnecessitytobidewhatlittletimehedoesn’tspendtaxinghimselfwithkeepingAntoinehappyandournosescleanbackintheStates.ThoughTobias’swarmthisn’tperceptibletoanynakedeye,itsexistenceisfarmoreprevalentthanmine—andthesepeoplehesurroundshimselfwitharen’thisfuckingpeople.
Hisheartisuselessbecauseit’sonlyhismindhefuels.
Fourteenmonthsago,thatwasme.
Ihateeveryfacetofhisworldhere,andI’mconvincedhedoestoo—sufferinginsilenceandtrappedwithnosanctuary.
Nocomfortinasoundlikethescratchandflipofanewpage.Nocloudtoimmersein—limbstangledindampskin,hairticklingmynose,fingernailsrakingmychest,andsoothingmurmuredwords.He’sneverhadtheescapeofgettinglostinlove’sdeepblues,insinfullips,inascentsoaddictive,itimmediatelygetshimhard,orthegiftofhowbreathymoansthatreekofpraisemakeamanfeelinvincible.Ifheonlyknewwhatitfeltliketobelookedatthewayshefuckinglooksatme.Herdarkblueeyessearingthroughfleshandboneasifshecouldseeeverypartinsideandappreciateeachone—nomatterhowwellsomeofitworksandsomedoesn’t.
Ofhavingawomanwhofuckingunderstandshimandrefusestolethimbackdownfromwhohetrulyis,offreeinghim.
Shesoughtmeout,fedmystarvingheart,andresurrectedit.Shedraggedtheweakeningorganout,kickingandscreaming…butit’sout,anditsteadilybeatsforher.
Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.
There’snogoingback.Thisshit’snotreversible.
Youcan’tunlovesomeonebecauseyou’reorderedto.Hisbeliefthatit’spossibleshowshowimmaturehisheartis.
Hemayhaveposedthedecision,butmyhearthadalreadymadethefuckingchoicebeforeIbeganservingaminutehere.
Ichosemybrotherthenighthesentencedus—andeverydaysince,thegutturalburnthatIcarrykeepstellingmeitwasamistake.
Youchosewrong.
Hell’struedefinitionislivingoutthewrongdecision.
MyjawclencheswiththerealizationasIstareupattheblack-moldedceilingofmyprison.
Myshacklesinvisiblebutthere.
IfIwalkoutofthishostel,I’mfree.ButifIdo,I’llneverbeletinagain.
It’samindfuck,andoneInolongerwanttoparticipatein.
Hurtinghimthatwaybrokesomethinginsideofme,too.Somethingbetweenuswemayneverbeabletogetback.Andthat’sonme,soI’vedonewhatIcantofixit,buthe’stearingmeapartinseekingsatisfaction.
Becausehedoesn’thaveafuckingcluewhatit’sliketofeelit,sohedoesn’tunderstandhiscurrentdemand.
Ceceliawouldneverletmeforsakemyrelationshipwithmybrother.Herheartisfartooevolved.Butsadly,Tobias’sisn’t.
Lightningflickersthroughtheshadows,andIripmyearbudsout,listeningforthethunder.Itinevitablysoundsafewbeatslater,rumblingthroughouttheroomasthefaintstreamofDavidBowieplayingbetweenmyfingersremindsmeofatimeIlaybeneathastarlightskywiththewomanhauntingme.
Withoursilence,hasshewashedherhandsofusaltogether?
Quietlydressing,Islipintomyboots,grabbingJulien’sburner,whichhenowleavesformeeverynight.
Inmymind,thesedays,weeks,andmonthshavebeenpointless,andeverysingleonehasfeltlikethesentenceitis.IfeellikemyheartcanonlyresumeitsrightfulbeatwhenI’mbackinTripleFalls,andmybrothercanlookmeintheeye—untilIcanfindherhandinthemidstofthisshit.
Thetimewespenttogetherisstartingtofeelmorelikeadistantdaydream.Andtheworstpartis,thelongerIstayherewithouther,themoreitwillremainone.EvenwhenwegetbacktoTripleFalls,Iwon’tfindheronthatstreet—waiting.
Orisshe?
Shuttingthedoorbehindme,Itrekdownthehall,makingmywayoutofthehostelandintothestorm.Sheprobablyhatesusbothfordesertingherwithoutpromise.FornotfightingTobiasharder.Forremainingsilent.Wearen’thelpless.Wecouldhaverefusedtocomeandengineeredanewwaytomoveforwardandaroundmybrother.Beinghereisachoice,remainsachoice,apledgeofallegiance,andmostimportantly,anapology.Onehedeserves.
Butatthispoint,I’mgettingprettyfuckingsickofapologizing.
I’mnotafraidtogohead-to-headwithwhateverwaitsaroundthecorner,butI’mterrifiedherhandwillnolongerbetherewhenIreachforit.
Abandoningcover,Ilettherainsurroundme,myskineagerlysoakingitinlikeit’sbeenstarved.
Everydayisstartingtofeellikeadaytoolate.There’sapanicthat’ssnakeditswayinthelastfewweeksandisbeginningtofesterinmychest.
Andit’schanging—rightnow.
Welefthermindracingandherconfusedheartgaping.Anyvulturethatcomesalongnowislikelytodevourher,topickatherpiecebypieceuntilthere’snothingleft.Theideaofhermovingonmakesmephysicallyfuckingill.Thethoughtofthathasjealousyrootingdeep.
Ihavetogettoher.
Tobiasisjustgoingtohavetoacceptit.Shedeservesmorethanbeingleftonadesertedstreetwithashadyexplanation.Ifthistimehastaughtmeanything,it’sthatIknowexactlywhothefuckIamandwhatIwant,andIdon’thavetohavemybrother’spermissiontohaveit.
Time.Fucking.Served.
Sentenceover.
Withoutanotherthought,Ipresssendontheburnerphone,andheanswersonthesecondring.
“Dom?”
“Tyler,”Iraspout,freelybleedingashervoicewhispersthroughtherain.
“Iloveyou.”
“Tyler,Ifuckedup,”Irelay,asthewatersheetsdownaroundme,thunderrollingdownthequietresidentialstreet.
Iheartheconcerninhisvoice.“What’sgoingon?”
MutingmyselfuntilIcanspeak,Ifeelhisanxietyspikeovertheline.“Dom?”
“Ineedafavor,”Icroak.
Moresilence.Andwebothknowwhy.He’salreadywalkingathinlinewithTobiasandknowsexactlywhatI’mabouttoaskfor.
“You’llbehomeinaweek,”heremindsme.
“Idon’tgiveafuck!I’vedonenearlytengoddamnmonths.Don’tyouthinkthatcallsforalittlefuckingacknowledgment?Hewashereyesterdayanddidn’tfuckingbotherspeakingtous.Idon’tevenknowifit’sworththisshitifhewon’teventalktousanymore.Thingswon’tbethesamenomatterwhatwedo.WhythefuckamIevenhere?”
“Dom,”hesaysinatonethatinsinuatesIshouldknowbetter.AndIdobutfuckthis.“Yousawhim.”
Idid.Andhewasinconsolable.Asidefromthedayofmyparent’sfuneral,I’veneverseenhimcry.Eventhen,hewasalonewhenIcaughthim,butmydecisionismade.“Ifhewantstolivelikeafuckingmonkfortherestofhislife,that’sonhim.”
“Youknowthat’snotwhy.”
Islammyfistintothemailboxnexttome.“WhatthefuckamIsupposedtodo?”
“You’redoingit.Hanginthere,sevendays,andyou’rehome.”
“It’snotjustme,”Isnap,thinkingofSeanandhowthetimeherehasalteredhim.I’mnotevensureherecognizesthechangesinhimself.“Sean’s…he’snotdoinggood,okay?Iwonderifheevengivesafuck.”
“Hedoes.It’sbeenalloverhim,”heassures.
Closingmyeyes,Itrytoreasonwithmyselftowait.Whatwe’redoingfuckingmattersandmattersalot.Webroketherules.Youcan’tbreaktherulesinourclub.Noexceptions.Atthesametime,mypocketsareempty,andthepriceisgettingtoohigh.
“Ineedthis,Tyler.IknowwhatI’masking,man.ButIneedthis.”
“Nameit.”
Igripthebackofmyneckinrelief.“Getusthefuckoutofhere.Rightnow.”
“Dom,it’saweek.”
“AndI’mcallingit!”Isnap.“Timeservedforgoodfuckingbehavior,butI’mtellingyourightnow,ifI’mnotonaplaneinthenextfewhoursfollowinghimhome,thatwillnolongerbethecase.It’stimetohavethisoutwithhimandfigureitout.I’mnotaskinghimforpermissionanymore.Youknowwe’vedoneourpart.Getusthefuckoutofhere.”Closingmyeyes,Ihearthegutturalpleainmyrequest.“Please.”
Ifeelit—theurgency,thecrushingitchtogetbacktoher.It’sbeenthere,butit’sneverbeenthisstrong.EvenasIthinkit,myguttellsmeitmayalreadybetoolate.
“Ifhefindsout…itwon’tbegood.Yousureaboutthis?”
“That’swhereyoucomein.Justmuteourwatchdogsforenoughtimetogetushomesowedon’thavetodealwithit.Ineedyoutoworkyourmagicandmakeitquietandpainless.I’llexplainmyselftomybrotherwhenthetimecomes—ifIfuckingfeellikeit—butI’mtellingyou,thelongerIfuckingstandhere,themoreIresenthimforit.Ihonestlydon’tgiveafuckwhathisreactionisanymore.”ImanupinawayIneverthoughtIwouldorbeinclinedto.“Ifellinlove,andit’snotafuckingcrime,andyouofallpeopleknowit’snondiscriminatoryaboutthefuckingwho…howisshe?”
Silence.
“We’refuckinggrown-ups,Tyler.Let’sstopwiththebullshit.Idon’tfaultyou,thesamewayyouaren’tfaultingmerightnow.HowisDelphine?”
“Shejustgotherlastscandone,andwegettheresultstomorroworthedayafter,butshe’sgonealmostelevenmonthswithoutasip,”herelays,prideclearinhisvoice.
“You’refuckingkiddingme,”Iraspout,emotiongettingthebestofme.
Elevenmonths.WhichmeansshewasalreadysoberwhenItookhertoPrettyPlace.ThatwasthechangeInoticedinher,andTylerwasthesignificantthingthathappened
Emotionburnsinmychest,myeyesstinging.Shewassober.“I…Idon’tknowwhattosay.”
“Shekickedit,Dom,notme,andshe’sstillfighting…she’sfuckinghappy.”
Thebackofmythroatburns.“Good,youbothdeserveit,especiallyher,”Isayhonestly.“Weallfuckingdo,”Itellhim,“Andmybillhereissettled.I’mnotpayingforitanothergoddamndayforlovingher.Doyouhearme?”
Tyler’slingeringsilencesendsmymindracing.“What?Whataren’tyoutellingme?”
“There’sadirectflightleavinginafewhours,”heoffers.
Reliefwashesovermeasmyeyescatchonawomantakingherdogonalate-nightwalk.She’scarryingaLouisVuittonumbrellaandmatchingleash.
IdecideI’mnevercomingbacktoFrance.
Shedrawscloseronherheels,hermile-longlegsencasedbythigh-highshorts.Herthintophasalittlebowthatliesinthemiddleofthecutinthechest,showcasingamplecleavage.Primedandpackaged.Shelooksbuzzedasshepassesme,hergazelingeringenoughtoknowshe’sfairgame.Whenoureyesmeet,shesmilesininvitationasshepasses,herfrizzydogleadingherdownthestreet.Ican’trememberthelasttimeIreallylookedatanywoman—saveone.
“Dom?”
“Bookit.”
Anhourlater,AlbertishoodedasJuliengivesmethedipofhischininfarewellbeforehe’scovered,justasSeanlandsnexttowhereIstand.GlocktrainedonthoseapprehendingourbabysittersasIbathisarmawaybeforehecanfocusandfire.
“Littleslowonthereactiontime,brother,”IchuckleasIpullmydufflefrombeneaththebedasourbabysittersaredraggedfromtheroom.Seanturnstome,eyeswide.“Whatthefuckishappeningrightnow?”
“Getdressedandpacked.We’refuckinggoinghome.”
“I’mthemanwhowouldstepinfrontofabulletforeitheroneofyou,noquestionsasked,butI’malsothemanwhoheldyourfuckinghandsbeforeIshapedthemintofists.I’mthesameman—upuntilImether—whoputyoubothaboveeveryoneelse.Butrightnow,whoamIrightnow?I’mthemanwholovesherenoughtonotletanyoneoranythinginfrontofher.”Tobias,TheFinishLineSlumpedagainstthedoor,headtiltedback,eyesfixed,Iabsorbthenightnoise.Cicadassoundinthedistance,inserenadewiththecrickets.Therustlingoftreesannouncesthelightwindbeforeitfiltersin,coolingmyskinasthescuffonmyoutstretchedbootbecomesmagnifiedbythefilteringmoonlight.
Imissnoneofit.
Wheretheworldusedtoblurandtimelapsedpastmeunnoticed,I’mfullyattunedtoitnow.
AwareofeveryraggedbreathIdrawalongwiththedistortedbeatthatsteadilydrumsinmychest—despiteitscurrentinhabitablestate.TheoverwhelmingburninmythroatintensifiesasIkeepmyfocuswhiletheachewebsitswaythrougheveryvein,pumpedfurtherinbyeverybrokenbeat.
Thecoolbreezewhispersinagain,glidingovermyprofileandarms,cruellydenyingashiftintemperature,lackinganysignofastorm.
There’snotasinglecloudinthemoon-absorbedsky,aconvenientviewaccessibletomyright.AviewthatIrejectwithmywholebeingtokeeptheoneIhave.Ihavenousefortheheavensanymore,nomorequestionstoaskthecosmos,nofuturetoponderbecausetheydeliveredmyfatetoday.
Afuturewithoutrain.
Withouther.
Asitturnsout,hellisn’tdiscriminatoryaboutgeographiclocationbutis,infact,astatemeantformetoendurewhereverImayroam.Thattruthmadeevidenttodaywhenitfaithfullyfollowedmehometowatchmeshatteronimpact.
ItwasthesightofhisJagparkedbehindwhatwecouldonlyassumewasCecelia’sJeepthattippedusoff.AfterSeanandIsharedaloadedlookinthedriveway,Tobias’slaughreacheduswherewestood,ringingoutfromsomewhereinthebackyard.Thesoundofitdrewusinandhaduscreepingthroughthegate,pastthepoolandgarden,onlytobeslammedbythesightofwhatgreetedus.
Closingmyeyes,thestingintensifiesinmythroat,thethumpinmyrawchestservingasareminderwhiletheimageofthemsurfaces.
Cecelialyingbeneathmybrother,wearingnexttonothing.Tobias,bare-chested,inhisbriefs,staringdownatherlikeshewaseverythingheeverwanted.
Itwasapparentbytheintimateexchangethattheyweremorethanfamiliarwiththeotherphysically.Withtimingbeingeverything,itseemedSeanandIarrivedinthenickoftimetowitnesstheminthemidstoffallingandconfessing.Mybrother’sdeclarationbeingthefirst.“Youwarnedmenottofallinlovewithyou.Yousaidyouwouldn’tmakeroomforme.”
“Youtoldmeyouwouldn’t.”Cecelia’sheartfeltreplyservedasasledgehammer,drivingintherealityplayingoutinfrontofus.
Ididn’thavetoseethelookinhereyestoknowshewasgivingherhearttohim…aheartthatcouldneverbemineagain.So,whenheopenedhismouthtovoicehisreply,Itooktheopportunitytopersonallydeliverhiskarma.
Gruntingthroughthepain,Ishakemyheadtotryanddisbursethesightofthem—tonoavail.
So,thisisheartbreak.
Thewordseemsweakincomparisontothefeeling.
Obliteratedfeelsmorefitting.Insignificantaswell,inthesensethatitseemedourtimetogethermeantfuckalltoher—atleastfromwhereIstoodthismorning,watchinghergiveherloveaway…tomybrother.
MygutfeelinginFrancehadproventobeonpoint,andasIfearedanddeepdownknew,Ilostmyplacewithherduringandbecauseofmyabsence.
“Wherehaveyoubeen?”
Thatquestionhadn’tsurprisedmeasmuchasthediscoverythatthemanIlookeduptomywholelife—whomIrespectedandrevered—wasonlytoohappytokeepthatanswerhiddensohecouldtakemyplace.
Mybrotherstolemyignorantbliss.
Thehardestpart?
Ilethim.
Eyesstinging,IscrubmyfaceagainstmyT-shirtsleevetoclearmyvision,unwillingtoloseasecondofthetimeI’mstealing.
Myangerformybrothercanbeeasilyconjured,butmyfuryforherismuchhardertofind.Ceceliahadbeenjustasblindsidedtoday.
IfIhadn’tseenherlearnofhisdeception—hadn’twitnessedorheardfirsthandthelengthsTobiaswenttoinanefforttokeepherinthedark—thenmaybeIcouldhateher.
ButIdidseeit,alongwithherfighttoremainupright,visiblyshakenbythesightofSeanandme.Therewaslongingmixedwithincredulityinhereyes—likeshehadbeenstarvingforthesightofusbutneverthoughtthedaywouldcome.ThatwasproofenoughthatTobiasfailedtotakeeitherofourplacesinherheart.
Evenifthat’safact,it’stoolate.
Toolate.
Keepingmyfocus,Idrawanotherjaggedinhaleasherconfessionringsclearinmyears.“Iwaitedforyou.Imademyselfsick.Icriedforyoubotheverynightformonths.Iwaitedandwaited,andyounevercameforme.”
ThoughIcreditedmyselfwithpersonalgrowthbeforewelanded,Ilashedoutatherinamixofhurt,anger,andjealousy—whichCeceliarightfullycalledmeoutfor.Iturnedmybackonitallthen,andshecriedout.Shecalledafterme,beggingmenottogo—thesamewayshehadinthatalley—pinningmewiththesamewords.“Don’t,Dominic.Pleasedon’tgo.”
EvenifIlostmyplacewithher,shestilldidn’twanttogiveuponme.Shewantedtounderstandwhathappenedand,moreso,howIcouldwalkawayfromher—fromus.“Youmeantotellmeyou’vebeenwaitingthiswholetimetocomebacktome?”
“Ichosewrong,”Iadmithoarsely,drawingmykneeupandrestingmyforearmsonthemwhilegrittingmyteeththroughanotherblow.
Mybrotherpurposefullyledhertobelieveweleftherbychoice,makingherthinkitwasourdecision.Thatwasthelastnailinhiscoffin,andweallfeltithammerhome.IthoughtthatwastheworstofituntilSeannailedCeceliawithbothaccusationandstatement.“Youlovehim.”
Shedidn’tdenyit…becauseshecouldn’t.
ItwasobviousmybrotherfoundhissalvationinherthewayIhad—hisrefuge.Onlylastnight,Iwasinthathostelfeelingsorryforhim.Pityingthefactthathehadnoideawhatitwasliketoexperiencereciprocallove.
Heknowsnow,alongwithhowterrifyingtheideaisoflosingit.
Especiallylosingheraffection,her,period.Whichismycurrentreality.
“Ifuckedup,”Ichokeout,palmingthebackofmyhead,tryingmybesttoabsorbthebreakhappeninginsideme.
Mybrother’sheartmayhavematured,butbyhisactionstonight,itwasobviousthatwhenitcametoCecelia,ithadgrownintosomethingdangerouslypossessive.HehadcometoKing’sfrantic,beggingusnottowithdrawourprotectiononesecondandcondemningusthenext.
“…youtwoidiotsparadingaroundlikemen,likesoldiers,whenyoudon’tknowafuckingthingaboutsacrifice.Andwithher,yousacrificednothing!Notafuckingthing!Untilyouknowwhatthatis,youaren’tcapableofbeingthemansheneeds…andyouknowalltoofuckingwellthatyoulosthertheminuteyousharedher.”ThatblowwasforSean,andIknewhefeltitbeforeTobiasfixedhisgazeonme.“Andchosethislifeoverher.”
Guilty.
Ofallofit.
TobiashadsucceededwhereSeanandIfailed—hechoseher.Heputherfirst,beforehimself,beforetheclub,beforeus.
Ilostthebestthingthateverhappenedtomebecauseofthatfailurewhilediscoveringoneofthemostdamningtruthsaboutthefour-lettercurse—aboutlove,whichisthatyoudon’tknowhowsignificantorpowerfulitisuntilyouloseit.
Thebreezekicksup,increasingthestingonmyface,andI’mthankfulforthephysicalpain,evenforasecond,todetractfromwhat’shappeninginsideme.
Gatheringmyselffromthefloor,limbsheavy,Iwalkovertothebed.Witheverystep,shecomesmoreintoview,andit’sthesightofher,sounnaturallystill,thatcrushesme.Movingapileoffoldedclothestoperchattheedgeofit,Isoakineveryinchofhersleepingform,knowingshewon’trousebecauseofthedrugspumpingthroughher
BecauseTobiascarriedthroughwithhisthreatandmarkedher.
IpulledupinanattempttostopitjustasIspottedJimmy’sSUV.Jimmywastheonewhoinkedusall,andIknewthesecondIsawhimpullingoutofRoman’sgatethatIwastoolate.
Toolate.
Toolate,andmybrotherwasn’tevenfuckinghere.
Hedidn’tevengiveherthechoice.
Hejust…claimedher.
MoretoaddtothelistofshitIcan’tforgivehimfor.
Staringdown,IdrinkinherperfectionthewayIhaveadozentimesormoreasshesleeps.Asshedreams,andforatime,shewasmine.
Shewasmine.
VisionsfloodinasIwatchherchestriseandfall…thesecondoureyeslockedinmybackyard,theflashofsuretyIinitiallydismissedbutstillrangtruethrougheveryfiberofmybeing.
Sheknowsyou.
Thelonglookswesharedacrosseveryspace,totheminutewesnappedonthatfloatbeforewecollidedandwerecreated.Thesamecontinuousbuzzthrummingsteadilyaswestoleglancesofeachotherbetweentheflipofpagesasstormsragedoutsidemywindow.
Herfingerstracingmyskin,wonderinhereyes,torunningmypalmreverentlyoverherback—inaweoftheheartthatbeatinsideofher,wrappedinhermystery.
Totheburstofsunthatlitherupinmypassengerseatassheadjustedherhoneysucklecrown.Thelaughterspillingfromuswhereshelaybeneathme,tangledinthesheetsbeforeoursmilesfaded.Heartsrawandachingaswelockedtogether,lostinourconnection,chestsbouncinginunisonduetothetiethatboundus.
Thatstillbindsus.
Afatewecreatedtogether.
AstoryI’llcontinuetorelivewithoutregret.
Fallingforherwasworthhittingbottom—andeverysingleachethatcomeswithit.
Reachingout,Itracethecurveofhercheek.
“Youguttedme,baby,”Icroakinconfessionasmychestcaves.“ButIcan’tsayIdon’tdeserveit…”Ifalter,gruntingthroughthepainconsumingme.“Youthriveonlove,andI…wefuckingstarvedyourheart…wejustleftyouhere.”
Crushedbytheweightofthattruth,Iliftherhandandthreadmyfingersthroughhers.“WebothknowIdidn’tdeserveyou…butyoumademefeellikeIdid…evenifIwouldn’tevenfuckingholdyourhand,”Iadmit.“Iwasgoingto,”Isniff.“Iwasgoingtotrytobethatguy.Iwasthatguy.Ijust…”Islidemythumbalonghers,theburnunbearable.“Iwouldgivefuckinganythingforonemoreday.Justone.”
Shedoesn’tstir,herhandlifelessinmine,breathsshallowbutsteadyasshelaysbeneathme,lookingeverybitthesleepingbeautysheis.Buthereyeswon’topenformebecausethey’renolongerminetolosemyselfin.
Nomoreescape.
Nomorefireandwatertodrownoutthenoise.
Nomoreflame.
Nomorerain.
Nolongermine.
Crackingwide,Ibendoverher,pressingmyforeheadtohers,“I’msorry.”Feelingtheshatteroffinality,Ipressasalty,dampkisstohertemple,mywhisperforherear,mylastconfession,far,fartoolate.“Iloveyoutoo,Cecelia.”
Nomorerain.Aftertwentyyearsofobservingalcoholism,Ifinallyfuckingunderstandthewhyofit.DrunkbringswithitastateofnumbnessIhadn’trealizedIcouldreachsoeasily.Icannowappreciatehowithelpstolessenthepainbyblurringreality.
ArealitywhereIstandinthegaragesurroundedbybirdsinacelebrationIwantnofuckingpartof.
Anotherhomecomingparty,bringingmefullcircleinthislivinghell—areminderofthedayitstarted.ThedayIlockedeyeswiththewomanwho’sforeveralteredmeforbetterandworse.
Thebirdsgatheringarounduspopbeers,crackingsmiles,andchatteringnoisily.Mostofthemareoblivioustothesoul-crushingkarmaSeanandIhaveenduredthelasttwodays—whereIexistinapresentIcan’thandle.Apresentonlymadebearableforthemomentthankstothehalf-drainedpintinmyhand.AsIdwellinit,thefutureticksonbythesecond—itstauntiscruelandunforgiving.Ceceliawasright.Whenyoudon’tdemandanythingfromlife,that’sexactlywhatitdelivers,nothing.
Ineveraskedthislifeforanythingbuttookeverythingitdeniedme.Thattacticworkedformejustfine—somethingmybrotherandIshareincommon…alongwithourtasteinwomen.
ItoldmybrotherTripleFallswasmine,butasofnow,Inolongerwanttoplaymypart.Ican’tevenimaginewhatalifeoutsideoftheclubwouldlooklike,butthequestionremains…howinthefuckarewesupposedtoresumeourroles,ourlives?
Tobiasstoletheonethingthatmademinebearable.Butindoingso,hefinallydiscoveredthevalueofsomethinghepracticallyforbadeusalltotakepartin—love.
Hisrattledexpressionlastnightandpanic-filledpleastoputCeceliafirstwerealltoofamiliarbecausetheymimickedthepanicIfeltwhenIwasworriedabouthisreaction—mostlyofhisreceptionandtreatmentofher.Anironiclaughescapesme,gettinglostinthecrowd,butitdoesn’tgounnoticedbySean,whonudgesmefromwherehestandsbesideme.“What’ssofunny?”
“Nothingyouwouldfindhumorin,”Iretort,takinganothermind-numbingpullfrommybottlebeforeofferingittohim.Heshakeshishead,fullbeerinhand,surveyingtheparty.
“Let’sshutthisbullshitdown,”hesays,“I’mnotfeelingthis.”
“Youshouldcelebrate.You’reyourownbossnow,”Iquip.
“Istillcan’tfuckingbelieveit,anyofit,”hesighs,eyeingthebottleI’mrapidlydraining.
“Ican.”
Sean’sheadwhipstowardmeasIstarebackathim,unflinching,andhisgazehardens.“Don’ttellmeyou’regoingtoletthisgo.Ican’tbelievehewentthroughwithit.”
Itoccurredtome,asIdroveawayfromCecelialastnight,thepossiblewhyTobiaswouldgotosuchlengthsandmarkher.IrelayedasmuchtoSeanthismorning.
“Youreallythinkit’sAntoine?”Heasks.
“Hastobe.Antoineistheonlyonethatcaninstillthatkindoffearinhim.”Swig.“Evenifhe’snot,theinkwillprotecther,butifthatpieceofshiteverdiscoversTobiashasaweakness—andTobiasdoesn’theelwhencommanded—she’llbehisfirsttarget,”Irelaygrimly.
Alongminutepasses,andIknowthatSean’sdoinghisbesttoacceptitandmakepeacewithwhathecanbeforehespeaksup.“Idon’tthinkIcanforgivehim,Dom.”
Scrutinizingme,hetakesalongdragofhissmoke.
“Thendon’t,”Itellhim.“Butifwe’rebeingonehundred,hewasrightaboutalotofwhathesaid.Wecouldhaveandshouldhavedonesomuchshitdifferently.”
“Wedidittoprotecthim,”hepointsout.
“That’sfair,buthe’snomoreguiltythanweare.”
“Fuckno,”herefutes,“hepurposely—”
“What?”Iinterject.“Whatexactlydidhedothatwassodifferent?Fallinlovewithawomanhewasn’tsupposedtofallfor,puthislifeandourclubinjeopardy,lietohisbrothersaboutit,anddowhathecouldtokeepherbydeceivingher?”Ilookovertohim,“soundfuckingfamiliar?”
“It’sdifferent,”hesnaps.
“It’snot,”Iswallow,“It’snotdifferent.”
“Ican’tbelieveyou’retakingupforhim.Heknewwelovedher.”
“Thatmightbetheonlythingyoucanjustifiablyhatehimfor,butyoufuckingknowalotofwhathecalledusoutforwastrue.”
“Reasonawayallyoufuckingwant,butI’mnotfeelinganyofthem,”hestatesinbluntdelivery.
Aloudclattererupts,andwelookovertoseeJeremyflailingasRussellpummelshimplayfully.SeanmanagestocrackasmileasIpinhimwithmynextquestion.
“Youwereserious,weren’tyou,whenyousaidyouwantedtomarryher?”Hiseyesdarttome,andIcanseetheanswerwithouthimvoicingit.
“Ijustwantedtoloveher.”Ihearthecrackinhisvoice,evenoverthenoisesurroundingus.“Ijustwantedittobeokaytofuckingloveherwithouttheguilt.”
“You’rejustifiednow,”Itiltthebottletowardhim,“butIcan’tfightwithyouabouthim.I’mexhausted,Sean.”Myvisionblursbriefly,andIshakemyheadtoclearit.
Hecupsthebackofhisneckandnods.
“It’syourchoice,”IrelayinwhatevertoneImanagetomuster.“It’syourchoicetohonoryourinkortowalkaway.I’mwithwhateverdecisionyoumake.”
Alongsilencefollowsasheturnsbacktome.“Canyouforgivehim?”
“Nottonight,”Ianswer,polishingoffthebottlebeforelightingupmyblunt.
“Jesus,you’reonamission,huh?”Heremarks,eyeingthebottledubiously.
Ishrug.“I’verecentlyfoundmyselfinthepositionofhavingabsolutelynofuckstogive.”
Helightsupagainandexhalesaplumeofsmoke,scanningthegarage.“Youthink…thinkhewasright?”heasks,“youthinkwe’reabunchoffuckingidiotsparadingaround—”
“Likesoldiers?TakingHalloweendressuptoofar?”Ifinish,andhenods
“Allthetime,”Ishrug.“ButIalwayscomebacktothesameconclusion.”
“What’sthat?”Heasks,tonecontemplative,andIknowwhy.
“Whynotus?”
Henodsinunderstandingaswebothponderclippingourwingsforthefirsttime.Asifsensingourcollectivepredicament,Tylercatchesmyeyeswherehestandsfeetaway.Iliftmychintohim,knowinghe’shereinsilentsupport,knowinghe’dratherbesomewhereelse.TylerhadscrapedusfromthefloorofthebayyesterdayafterTobiasleftandwhiskedustoDelphine’s.Weweresofuckedupaftertheday’seventsthatwe’dforgottenweweretemporarilyhomeless.
Butasofthismorning,thethreeofusarecommiseratingtogether.
WhileSeanandmyannihilationswereswift,Tyler’shappinesswillbestolenbytheday.
Delphine’slastscanresultscameback,andherbriefremissionisover.
Thestarshavebeengenerousindolingoutmorefuture,andIcurseeveryoneofthosemotherfuckers.FortheirunapologetictheftfromTylerandforallowingmeaglimpseofheavenIcan’tstealback.Tiltingmybottleindefianceofthem,Isoftlywhisper,“fuckyou.”
Painspikes,andtheconsumedliquorattemptsbutfailstodissolveitintimeasitspreadslikethethrummingbassthroughthebay.
Gettingsweptinbythethreateningburn,it’sthesuddenthwackringingoutthroughthebay,cuttingthroughthenoise,thatbringsmesomewhatbackintothepresent.Tylerwhipshisheadinourdirectionasallofusperk.It’swhenthecrashringsoutagain,theshatterofglassregistering,thatTylerracesintothelobby.
Themusiciscutabruptly,andallmovementceasesaseverybirdinthegarageposturesup,theirattentiononthebaydoorjustasTylerannouncesthesourcefromwherehestandsinthelobby.“It’sCecelia…andshedoesn’tfuckinglookhappy.”
AnothercrashandshatteroutsidehasSean’seyesdartingtominebeforehestalkstowardthedoor,speakingup.“I’vegotit.”
Tylerjoinshim,andjustasSeanliftsit,glassshattersinchesfromhisface.Heshieldshimselfatthelastsecond,expellinga“Jesus,fuck.”
Ceceliahurlsmorebottlestowardus,andafewbirdsmanagetododgethemasIflickmyblunt.Seantakesasteptowardherashereyesdartfromhimtome—aflashofhurtflitsthroughherlividgazewhenshesweepsmywhiskey-mutedprofile.Laylaspeaksup,cautioninhervoice,asshetriestoreasonwithherwhilestunnedbythestateofher.“Cecelia…baby,what’sgoingon?”
Layla—who’snotintheknowaboutanyofwhat’stranspiredinthelasttwenty-fourhours—looksbetweenSeanandme.“Whatdidyoufuckersdo?”
Thebetterquestionis,whathaven’twedonetoher?
ThelookofdisgustinCecelia’sexpression,thewrathinherposture,saysitallasshedartsherfocusaround,betrayalandvengeancewarringinhereyes.
Iknowthefeeling,baby.
“Don’tbother,”shesnapsinresponsetoLayla’sgentlecoaxing.“Don’tpretendtogiveadamnaboutme.”
“YouknowIdidn’thaveachoice,”Laylarepliesinaguilt-riddledtone.
“Ohbullshit,”Ceceliacounterswithaviciousbite,“youhadachoice.Youchosethem.Andguesswhat?Youdeservethem.”
“I’msorry,”Laylaoffersinapology.
“Saveit,”Ceceliarefutesit,“you’veallmadeyourpoint.Ithinkit’stimeImadeoneofmyown.”Liftingthegascaninherhand,shepourstherestofitintoalargepuddleinfrontofher,whichservesasabarrierbetweenusandtheidlingJeepbehindher.Betweenthebeamoftheheadlightsbehindherandthelightinthegarage,Idrinkineverydetailastheconsumedwhiskeyfailstostiflethebuddingache.
“Whatthefuckareyoudoing?”Seansnaps,surveyingthedamagetoourlotassheliftsabottle,ragsoaked.
Tylerspeaksupnext,justastakenaback.“JesusChrist,Cecelia,whatthehellareyoudoing?!”
“Whodidit?!”shedemandsasconfusionsetsinastowhyTobiaswentthroughwithit—andapparentlydidn’tcoptoit.Seantakesanotherstepforwardassheliftsthebottleinthreat.“TakeanotherstepbeforeIgetmyanswer,andI’lllightthis,andwe’llallseewhereitlands.Don’tfuckingpushme,Sean.”
“Putitdown,”Seanorders,stunnedbyherwrath,butIknowbetter.
Haveknown.
“Whodidthistome?!”Sheshrieks
Evenasshedeclareswaronus,incitingaone-personriot,tossingaccusations,Iknowshe’sbarelyscratchedthesurfaceofwhoshe’lleventuallybecome.Shelookssogoddamnedbeautiful—eveninherrage-inducedstate—thatnoamountofbuzzcandullthat.PridefloodsmeassherefusestobackdownevenasshehurlsaccusationsandinsultsbetweenSeanandme.
Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.
“…Youwantme.HereIfuckingam!”
Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.
“…speakup,andyoucancomegetyourfuckingprize!”Withthat,shestrikesaZippointhreatasSeancallsouttoherinpanic.“Cecelia,don’t!”
Icanseeitalloverher.Shehasnointentionoflistening.Pushingoffthewall,Istarttomovetowardher,birdsparting,afewofthemtossinginsultsandill-timedjokesatherexpense.
“Bitchhaslosthermind.”
“Youmust’vedickedhergood,Dom.”
Fixedonher,Isteadilymakemywaytowardherastheystarttorealizewhatshedidbeforeannouncingherarrival.
“Whatthefuck?…Sheslashedourfuckingtires!”
Raisingahandtoshutthemup,Ikeepmypaceasshezeroesinonmewithherthreat.“IsweartoGod,Dominic.I’lllightthisplaceup.”
Ofthat,Ihavenodoubt,baby.
“Stop!”sheorders,andIdo.
“Why?”shelooksbetweenus,“Why?!”Sheturnsthen,givingusaviewofherfreshink.Inmyperipheral,IseeSeanstiffenasthesightofitnauseatesme,andshehurlsmoreinsults.
“…cowards!You’rebothfuckingcowards!”Shelashesbetweenusbeforedeliveringagutturalblow.“Iwasneveryours,andIneverwillbe.Staythefuckawayfromme!”
Hurtleaksthroughthatdeclarationevenassheseethes,andit’sevidentTobiasisn’tgoingtobeforgivenanytimesoon.
Good.
Givehimhell,baby.
Tylerlookstomeforanyclueastohowtohandlethis,butwecreatedandnurturedtheravenwithinher,andit’sstartingtospreaditswingsasherinksettlesin.Thatisn’tsomethingthatcanjustbehandled.
Ha!Youaresofuckedbigbrother!
Questionis,whyisn’tTobiasheretocleanuphisownfuckingmess?
EvenasIthinkit,anunsettlinginklingkicksin.
Something’snotright.
Tobiaswouldn’tjustmarkherandabandonher.
Notasecondlater,thehairsonmyneckliftasbuzzesandpingssoundaroundme.
Cecelia,tooconsumedbyhertirade,continuestoragefeetaway.Tylerbarksmyname,andIpausemyfootingasecondbeforehepresseshisburnertomyear,mybrother’svoiceringingout.“MiamitookafuckingcontractonRoman!Gethersomewheresafe!…Miamiiscoming!”
Theadrenalinespikehasmerushingherjustasshetossesthecocktaildowninapuddleofgas,ignitingitandblockingmewithawallofflames.Jumpingthroughthem,theylickmyforearmsbeforeIbreakthroughtoseeheralreadyinherJeep.Lungingforward,Imanagetoslammyfistsonherhoodforasecondbeforeitdisappearsbeneaththem,andshetearsout,racingaway.
Fuck.
Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.
InanInstant,Tylerisnexttomeinspectingmyskin,andIjerkaway,knowingthedamageisminimalashestartstoshoutordersatthebirdsalreadyscramblingaroundus.“Usewhateveryoucan!”
Tylerspeaksrapidlyintohisphoneasmyheartbeatramps,fillingmyears.
Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.
“…camehereinarage,askingwhofuckingmarkedher,T.Sheshreddedeverytireandthreatenedtolighttheplaceup.Shelookedfuckingpossessed,man.Whydoesn’tsheknow?…Wherethefuckhaveyoubeen?!”
Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.
Alongpausefollows,andIknowmybrotherisrapidlyrelayingaworthyexplanation.Asruthlessasheis,hewouldn’thaveleftCeceliasoexposedifhedidn’thaveachoice.Evenasmybrainreasonsinhisfavor,Ifeeltheresentmentsimmeringbeneath.
“Dom,”Tylersays,stretchingthephoneouttome.
“Don’twehaveatrackonherJeep?”Iask,andTylerjerkshischin.
“Thefuck?!”Iroar.“Why?”
“Theywerelivingtogether,”Tylersaysonharshexhale,“AtRomans.”SeanvisiblyflinchesfromwherehestandsafootawayasIsnatchthephoneandcursethefactthatI’mtoodrunktofuckingfunctionproperly.“Whatthefuckisgoingon?”
“Dom,”thepanicinhisvoicehasmyfearelevating.“Listentome,I’mbeggingyou,listentome.”
“I’mlistening,”Isnap.
“Romandidn’tdoit.Hedidn’tkillMamanandPapa.Igotitallwrong…JesusChrist,”heroars.
“What?”It’sbarelyawhisper.
Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.
“…Dom!Areyouthere?”
“I’mhere,”Isay,asmyfocusflitstoTylerandSean,whocanheareveryshoutedword,theirwideeyesgluedtomeasIputthephoneonspeaker.
“Romandidn’tdoit.”
Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.
“Howdoyouknow?”Iask,myvoicebarelyaudible.
“Becausehejustfuckingtoldme,”Tobiascroaks.
“What?”Thegroundstartstofeellikeit’smovingbeneathmeasmybreathsbecomelaboredwhiletheweightofhiswordssinkin.
Myheadstartsspinningwithansweredquestionswhilemorebegintocirculate.
“Dom?!”
“Yeah,”Icroakashetalksoverme,andIpinchmytemples,aheadacheformingbehindthem.
“…hisoffice,Romanknewwewerecomingforhim,Dom.He’sfuckingknown.”
Tyler,Sean,andIstareindisbeliefattheburnerinmyhand.
“Itwasanaccident,”Tobiassays,tonerattled,“Dom…itwasDiane…shewaspregnantwithCecelia.Romandidn’tdoit.”
Whywouldheallowusnearher?Whywouldhe…Igapeatthephoneastheanswersnakesitswayin.Becausewecouldn’tevenfoolourfuckingenemyofouraffectionforhisdaughter.
Whatconfoundsmejustafterthatisthathewasneverourenemy.
Headracingasthemissingpieceswe’vebeensearchingyearsforlockintoplace,thefirstcarfiresupfeetaway.Turningtowardthesound,IspotJeremyspeedingpastusandoutoftheparkinglot,flyinginthedirectionCeceliafled.Asanothercarfiresup,DennyshoutsordersalongwithRussellastheycalloutamapofroadstosearchandsetblockson.
“Keepyourgoddamnphonesclose,”Tylershoutsasafinalorderbeforestartinghistruckandwavingtowardme.“Getin.You’refuckingdrunk.”
“Dom!”Tobiasshoutsoverthephone.“Brother…I’mbeggingyou,talktome!”
“Ihearyou,”isallIcansayaspanicrisesandemotionsstarttoburnawayatmyalcohol-lacedbloodbythesecond.
“I’minRoman’scar,”Tobiasrelays,andIcatchontowhy.
He’stryingtolurethemin.
“I’mfollowing,”ItellhimasIdesperatelytrytobreakthroughthewhiskeyhaze.
“Ican’tspeed,orthey’llsuspectwe’reontothem.That’sifthey’renotalreadyhere.We’reflyingcompletelyblind.Ihavenocluewhoorderedthehit,andthetwobirdsonwatchsaidtheydon’tknowhowlongthey’vebeenmissing.Theyfollowedthemhomelastnightandmusthaveslippedoutundetectedthismorning.I’mgoingtotrytolurethemin.”
Alarmshootsthroughmeaspanicsetsinforhim.AsIgotospeakmyobjection,hebeatsmetoit.“Don’tsendasinglebirdtome.She’sallthatmatters,Dom.Doyouhearme?Idon’tmatter.Findher!”
MyangerabatesalittlebecauseIfeeljustasfuckinghelplessrightnow.Mybrotherisbeggingmetohelpsavethewomanwebothlove.It’srightuptherewiththeotherworstfewsecondsofmylife—whenweweretoldwewerebothallwehadleft.ThatwasthecaseupuntilCeceliaHorner.
Thepainthrums,andit’sthenIknow.Nomatterhowthisends,everythinghasalreadychanged,andwecannevergoback.
“TellDennytounpack,”Tobiasshoutsinorder.“Everything.Everyfuckingthingwehave,doyouhearme?”
Seannods,havinghearditasItakethephoneoffspeaker.Pullingoutmykeys,IholdthemouttohimasIdomybesttocutthroughtheslow-motionhazeI’mstuckin.“I’vegottwosparesinmytrunk,”ItellSean.“GetminegoingandhaveDennygrabeverythingweliftedfromthewarehouse.”
Seanturnswithoutaword,hisexpressionmixed.TakingthepassengersideofTyler’struckasmybrothershoutsinorderandplea,IwatchSeanretreatandbrieflyclosemyeyesatwhathemustbefeeling.Hededicatedhislifetohelpingusavengeourparents’murdersandgaveuptheloveofhislifetohelpusseethequestthrough.
Andnowheknowsitwasallanaccident.SodoesTyler.
StaringafterSeanashepopsmytrunk,Ihavetobelievehe’llforgiveusandreasonthattheinkstillmeanssomething.Thatthepurposewespunfromwhereitstemmedisenoughtoholdhim—nottoregrethisinkanymorethanhedoesrightnow.
Thathe’llforgiveusbothforourignoranceandpointlessvendetta.
Alongwiththefactthathecouldhavelovedherfreely,withoutguilt—andsocouldI.
It’sthatblowthatnearlydoesmein,butthefearforherandwhatshe’sbeenputthrough—forourparent’sfuckingmistakes—hasmetensingatTyler’ssidewithmyrequest.“TakemetoDelphine’s.”
Withoutaword,henodsandtearsoutofKing’sasIliftthephonetomyear.
“…havetofindher!Dom!?Brother…please.”Theterrorinmybrother’svoicehasmesoberingconsiderablyaswespeedoutoftheparkinglot.
“I’mhere.Startfromthebeginning.”
“Andnowhereismysecret,averysimplesecret:Itisonlywiththeheartthatonecanseerightly;whatisessentialisinvisibletotheeye.”—LePetitPrince,AntoinedeSaint-ExupéryIntuitionisn’tsomethingI’vebeengrantedthesamewayothershave.Agiftthatsparksupatcertaintimesforguidance.It’sneverbeenthatwayforme.Fortheentiretyofmylife,it’sbeenmydailyfuelandhasneverfailedme.Notonce.
Thethingthat’skeptmeexactlywhereIneedtobe.Intherightplaces,attherighttimes.
SohowdidIgethere?
HowinthefuckdidIgethere?
ByignoringmyintuitionlongbeforeIallowedmyselftofall.
Byblurringthesandstreamingthroughthehourglasstomultiplyit,makeitlast,evenasIsawitslippingaway.
Byplayingdeaftoeverywhisperedsignand,instead,revelinginthefiresheignitedinsidemyheart.
Byignoringtheroarofwarningthattoldmetohandherthegun,tossingitinstead,ifonlytodimsomeofthefearinhereyes.AlookIfearedallalong.AlookthatcomeswiththeknowledgeofwhatI’mtrulycapableof.
AlookthattoldmeshewasfinallyconvincedthatIwasthebadguyItoldherIwas.
AlookofterrorthatatemealiveasshecoweredfrommewhenIenteredherbedroom.InmeresecondsIrecognizedtherealizationsIhadfailedtoprotectherfrom.Thetruththatthiswasneveragame,andwehadn’texaggeratedthestakes—butunderplayedthem.AlookthattoldmeshethoughtIwouldbetheonetodeliverthoseconsequences.
Alookthatannihilatedmeenoughtotossmyguntoofaroutofmyreach.
Itwaswhenhereyescleared,andshetrulysawmeasshehadallthosemonthsago,thatIwasgiftedthosefewprecioussecondsofexchange.AcollectionofminuteswhereIwasabletoconfessmyfears,apologizeformydeceit,andfinallydelivermyill-timeddeclarationwholeheartedly.
“Yes.”
“Yes,what?”
“Yes,I’vebeeninlove.”
AdeclarationIfuckingrefusedtoholdinsideanothersecond,knowingitwastoolate.Aconfessionthatgavemeabittersweetsortofpeace,alongwiththenotionthatoneday,ImightbeaworthymandeservingoftheloveIselfishlytook.
Andnow?
NowI’mstandingfrontrowanddeadcentertotheconsequenceoffeigningignorancetothoseinstincts.
Butindoingso,Iwasrewardedwithapieceofparadise,aminutemorewithmyignorantbliss.
AndItookit.
That’showIgothere.
Evenifmygunnowresidesinenemyhands.
“Whatbringsyouhere,Matteo?It’salittlelateforcompany.”
IspikemytoneenoughthatifTobiasisanywhereinthenearvicinity,he’llcome.ButIfeeltheintuitionI’veoverlookedonetimetoomanykickinginasmyentirebeingeruptsinawareness.
It’stoolate.
IntentonkeepingMatteoasafedistancefromher,Iengageinpointlessbackandforthwhilemaintainingthefocusofthemonsterinfrontofme.ThethreatinhiseyesandpostureloomingmerefeetawayfromtheonethingIrefusetoberobbedof.
I’velostenoughtolife’shand.Itdoesn’tgettohaveher.
FeelingitwhenCeceliaemergesfromherbedroom,Icalmlytellhertostepback.Idon’twantherseeingthedepravityradiatingfromthismotherfucker.Thoughalikeinsomeways,thissickfuckconsidersspillingbloodapleasure.
We’reentirelydifferentinthatrespect.
AtleastIhavethat.EvenifIcanidentifywithhiminafewways,Iwon’tlosesleepoverspillinghisblood.
Forher,I’llbecomethegoddamnboogeyman.Matteoreadsasmuchinmyeyes,ofthatI’msure,evenashethreatensherinanattempttorattleme.
BeforeIcantakeanotherstep,Tobiassoundsupbehindme.
“What’sgood,brother?”
“Gotthishandled,”IrelaybeforeaskingMatteoabouthisbrother’swhereabouts—myconfidenceinTobias.Refusingtothinkaboutthehalf-dozenwaysthishasalreadygonewrong,I’mreassuredwhenIhearTobiasaddressCeceliatocometohim.Justasreliefbrieflyfiltersin,Andre’svoicesounds.ThethreeofthemgobackandforthinmeaninglessexchangeasTobiastriestoreasonwithmetowait.ButIvoicemyobjectionbecauseofwhatIknowandsee—nolongerignoringmyinstincts.It’ssofuckingclearinMatteo’seyesthathe’ssalivatingforthis.
Thatmakestwoofus,motherfucker.
KnowingIcantakethispieceofshitoutthroughsheerwillalone—whetherhehastheadvantageornot—IassureTobiasIcan.It’sthethreatbehindthefrontdoorthatI’mwaryof.It’sgoingtotaketime,evenattopspeed,forourbirdstogethere.
WhenTobiassnapsatAndretobackoff,Itakeanotherstepdown,separatingthemonsterfromher.Witheachone,Ifeelthechainsthathaveboundmestarttostrainandbreak,onebyone.Ceceliaisattheforefrontofmymind.Thenoisesurroundsme,thecollectivescreamsoftheotherinnocentsI’vesworntoavengepropellingmeforward.Gettinglostinthevoidoftheeyesstaringbackatme,adrenalinestartstotakeover.
Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.
Thismonsterisgoingtopayforthemall,evenasmybrotherpleaswithme,andIassurehimthere’snodealtobemade.Thiswasinevitable,andanotherunmistakableinklingtellsmethatIknewitwellbeforenow.
Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.
It’sCecelia’scallthatstopsmefromembracingthedarksnakingitswayintome.Focusingonher,Iallowmyselfthechancetotellherthatbriefly,shegavemeaglimpseofahappinessIhadn’tthoughtIwascapableof.
“Cecelia,”Iaddressfirmly,myheartlurchingintotherhythmshecreated.
Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.
Tobiasattemptstocutin,callingmyname,butIrefusehim.
“I’mtalkingtoCecelia.”
“Yes?”shereplies,voiceshakingwithfear.
“Afterthis,wanttowatchamovie?”
Ignoringanyoutsidenoisebeyondourexchange,ItellherofthememorythatkeptmegoinginFrance.
Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.
OfatimeIfeltcompleteandwhole.
“YoucanmakethatcheddarpopcornIlove,andwecancrowdunderthatblanketthatsmellslike…what’sthatsmell?”
“Lavender,”shereleasesinashakyrush.
Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.
Ofalifewemighthavehad…ifIdidn’thavesomanyfuckingmonsterstoslay.
“Yeah,andI’llwatchachickmoviebecauseallIreallywanttodoiswatchyouwatchit.Yourfacegetsalldopeywhenyougetlovedrunk.”
Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.
“Weloverainydays,don’twe,baby?”
“Wedo,”shecroaks,voicebreaking.
TiltingmyheadatMatteoinchallenge,ImakemydeclarationcleartoTobiastoreadyhimself.“Wedon’tfuckingnegotiatewithterrorists.”
TakinganothersteptowardMatteo,Cecelia’svoicereachesmeinelevatedpanic.“Dominic.”
“Whatisit,baby?”
“S’iltepla?t,nefaisriendestupide.Jet’aime.”Pleasedon’tdoanythingstupid.Iloveyou.
“Jesais.”Iknow.
HerdeclarationfuelsmeasIstandbetweenherandthemonsterIsworetoprotectherfromwhileherlovesetsmefree.Forabrieftime,shewasmysolace—myreprieve.TheonlydreamofafutureIallowedmyselftohave,butshecan’tbe.Notanymore.
Toomanymonsters.
“Dominic,”Tobiasordersgruffly.“Standdown,rightfuckingnow.We’restilltalking.”Ifeelthedesperationinhisorder,inhim,asherattlesbehindmetostopandthinkitthrough.ButIhave,forfartoolong,andI’mfinallytenstepsahead.
Sorrybrother.
Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.
IronystrikesmethenthatI’vebeenwaitingforwhatseemslikealifetimetostartthiswar.Butwithmybrother’sconfessionaboutRoman—aboutCecelia’smother—Iwaitedinvain.
AsIinchcloser,myintuitiongrantsmearevelationthatignitesme.
Allthistime,I’vebeenwaitingtopullthetriggerwhenIamthefuckingtrigger.
Feelingthetruthofthattomycore,Iliftmychin,eyesmirroringtheblackgazeofthemonstersI’vebattledmywholelifeandeverythingtheyrepresent—thesystemthatsetusallupforfailure.Thatputusatwarwitheachotherastheywatchedoninamusementwhilecreatingmorepower-hungrypredecessors.Allofit’sthere—thepoverty,thepain,thesuffering,thedivision,andallforonethingthathasneverbeensuccessfullyboughtorretainedinhumanhistory—control.
Itendshereandstartshere.
Imightnotbeabletotakethemallout,butthismonster…thisfuckingmonsterismine.Withaheadfullofvengeanceandaheartfueledbybluefire,IfeelthelastchainbreakfreeasItakemynextstepandengagetheabyss.“Caretodance?”
“Honored,myfriend,”theevilreplies.
“Makeitagoodone.”
“Dominic,no!”
WhitehotpainblindsmeasitshootsthroughmylimbsasI’mstruckforwardbyanotherbullet—thisonerippingthroughmyshoulder.MyeyesfindCecelia,reliefcoveringmetoseeherwholeanduntouchedasawaveofpainblindsme,andIreachforher.Asecondlater,she’sinmyarmsasIcollapseagainstthewall,firecirculatinginmybellyasachillskittersupmyspine.
Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.Whoosh.
Paintakeshold,breathshard-earnedasTobiasappears,cursingwhiletryingdesperatelytoplugtheholesrunningthroughme.Cecelia’scriesdragmebacktoherasItakereliefinseeingthembothunscathed.
“Go,”Itellthembothwithwhatenergyremainsastheirwordsblur,mypulseslowingasthepaintakesover.
Whoosh…Whoosh…Whoosh…Whoosh.
Feelingmyselfslipping,Ceceliapleadsformetoholdon,apologiespouringfromherlips.“I’msorry,baby.I’msosorry.”
Focusingonmybrother,Iseemyfatesolidifyinhiseyesand,inreturn,givehimwordsIknowhe’llunderstand.Wordsthat,deepdown,he’salwaysunderstoodandatruthI’vealwaysknown.“Noussavionstouslesdeuxquejen’allaisjamaisvoirmestrenteans,monfrère.Prendssoind’elle.”WebothknowIwasnevergoingtomakeittothirty,brother.Takecareofher
Seeingthepromiseinhiseyes,Ifeeltheurgencyofthethreatwaitingbehindthefrontdoor,andvoiceasmuch.“Go,”Imanagethroughacough,tastingthebloodcoatingmymouthasIwheezethroughthepain.“Please.”
“No,”Ceceliashakesherheadfuriously,demandinherdeepblues.“Sorry,youcan’tgo,Dominic,becauseIdreamedyourfutureupforyou.Hangon,andI’lltellyouallaboutit.”
Staringupandintothesoulofthewomanworthwarringover—whogavemeaglimpseofheavenonearth,awareofjusthowmuchpowerherloveholds—Iagaincursethefuckingfatethatallowedittobetakenfromme.Butjustasthatthoughtdriftsin,whatIthoughtI’dbeenrobbedofisgiftedinthewayitalwayshasbeen,throughher,becauseitwasneverabouttheweather,time,orplace.
Whoosh…Whoosh…Whoosh
Herwarmthengulfsme.Theatmosphereshiftingastumultuousstormcloudsgatherinhereyes,andherrainbeginstopeltme—allburdenlifting,alongwithanyremnantsofanger.Abone-deepchillsweepsthroughmybodyasthepainabates,andherturbulentbluespierceandhookme,sweepingmeaway.
Denny
Everyunmarkedmotherfuckerinthathouseisabouttodie.
It’smyonlythoughtasTyleremergesfromthetrees,Cecelia’sblood-soakedclothesinhand.Discardingthem,henodstowardme,pullingtwinGlocksfromhissidesashestartstowardthehouseatadeadrun.Mygunattheready,Icoverhim,andwithinsecondswe’vebreachedthetreesatthesideofthehousenearthepool—theroarofgunfiresoundingaroundus.
Pop.Pop.Pop.Pop.Pop
Therapidfireonlyfuelsme,lettingmeknowit’snottoolatetojointheparty,andfrankly,Ican’tfuckingwait.
So,Idon’t.
CoveringTyler,Ishiftwhenamanappearsinmyperipheraljustoutsidethetreeline.IttakesasplitsecondbeforeIidentifyhim,mygunalreadytrainedonhim.
Notabird.
Squeezingthetrigger,hegoesdowninaheap.
Pop.Pop.Pop.Pop.Pop
Mostofthegunfirecomesfrominsidethehouse,awindowshatteringasweapproach,andanotherfigureentersmyperipheral.IturntoseeJeremybackingawayfromthegate,eyestrainedasheliftshisgun.
Pop.Pop.Pop.
Anotherdown.
Heturnstomejustafterandgivesmeadipofhischin,expressionmurderous,butthemessageisclear—he’sgotoursix.
Makingmywaytothebackdoor,Tyleralreadyinside,Istarttotoeitopenandhearastruggleensuingontheotherside.Afterrollingin,gunsraised,IcatchsightofSeanonthekitchenfloor,feetahead.He’sstraddlingoneoftheMiamicrew,bloodlustinhisexpressionashepresseshisgunagainstthefucker’sthroatinanefforttocrushhiswindpipe.
It’snomysterywhyhewantstoprolonghisdeath.Hewantshimtosufferthewayheis—thewayweallare.
Dom.
Noneofuswilleverbethefuckingsame.
TossingawaythethreateninggriefforwhenIcanallowitin,Ifighttostayhyper-focused,scanningthemassivedoublekitchen.AnxietyspikeswhenIseeoneofMiami’screepinginfromthehall,guntrainedonSean.Myfearisquashedwhen,withoutlooking,SeanliftshisGlockandfirestwoshots,takinghimdown.Losingtheadvantagewiththemanbeneathhim,Seantakesarighthookandgritshisteethbeforeturningbackandrainingdownafewdeathblowsbeforedeliveringapoint-blankshottohishead.Standing,Seankickshislifelessbody,histhirstnowherenearsatiatedashiseyesbrieflymeetmine.WhatIseeinhisreturngazeisbeyondanythingIhavebefore.Inthenextsecond,Seandisappearsfromview,nodoubtinsearchofmore.
Glancingtotheothersideofthemassivedoublekitchen,IspotTylerrushingtowardanoverturnedkitchenette,oneoftheMiamicrewbarricadedbehindit.AsTylermovesin,theassholefranticallyfiresaroundhim.
Tylerstalkstowardhim,notstoppinghisfooting,evenwhenhe’sstruckbyastraybullettohisvest.Gunlifted,Istarttoheadtheirway.Asecondlater,Tyler’sthere,pushingthetablebacklikeitweighsshitandcorneringthefuckeragainstthewall.Withinablink,Tylerhoversdirectlyabovehim,unloadingbothhisguns.
Pop.Pop.Pop.Pop.Pop.
Sensingmebehindhim,Tylerturns,gunstrained,butit’shisexpressionthathasmeretreatingastep.
Goddamn.
Tylerdisappearswithinabreathastheneedtostakemyownclaimoverrunsme.Afewstepsintothecorridorthatleadsfromthekitchentothefoyer,IspotoneoftheMiamicrewcoweringinacoffeestation.Sneakingupbehindhim,Imakemypresenceknownwithataponhisshoulder.Thesecondheturns,Ishovemygunintohisgapingmouthandfire.
Thesightofhisbodyhittingthetilefloordoesnothingtopreventtheacheinmychest.
He’sgone.Myclosestfriend.Fuck,myonlyfriend.
Stalkingtowardthefoyer,IseethefrontdoorajarjustasafewoftheMiamicrewslipout.Liftingmygun,IstalktowardthemwhenIhearabulletexpelledfromasilencerabove,andanunmistakable“thunk”follows.
Pitchingforwardinaracetogettothoseoutfront,I’mstoppedbythesightofafallingbodybeforeitcrashesintothetableafewfeetinfrontofme.Themangroansasherollsoffandhitsthefloor.
Miami.
Imoveintofinishhimoffandamstoppedwithagrowl,“he’smine.”Turningtowardthesourceofthevoice,IspotTobiasslowlytakingthestairs,draggingthelifelessbodyhejustsilencedbehindhimbythecollar.Expressionlethal,Tobias’seyesremainfixedonhistarget,who’snowusinghisforearmstoarmycrawltowardtheopenfrontdoor.Hittingthefootofthestairs,Tobiasdiscardsthebody,steppingoveranothertogettothescreamingassholetryingtocrawloutofthefrontdoor.Withintwosteps,Tobiasiscrushingwhatvertebraetheguyhasremainingwithhisshoe.HescreamsoutinagonyasTobiasrollshimoverbeforesilencinghimforever.
Pop.
“They’retryingtorun!”Russellcallsfromsomewhereoutside.Tobias’sheadsnapstowardthedrivewaybeforehestalksoutthedoor,grabbingadiscardedM16lyingontheporchashegoes.Tylerappearsathissideinaninstant,flankinghim.Trailingthemboth,Iwalkbackwardfromthehouse,gunliftedandscanningasmorebirdsemergefromallsides,mimickingmystance.Russelljoinsmetohelpmecoverthem.Whenwe’reatasafeenoughdistance,birdssurroundingthehouse,IturntoseeTobiasopenfiringontheretreatingMiamicrewscramblingtotheircars.
Pop.Pop.Pop.Pop.Pop.Pop.Pop.Pop.
“Go,”Russellyellstome,“gohelphim!”
Runningtowardthem,IcatchsightoftwocarsspeedingtowardthegateasTobiasgainsonthelastone,riddlingitwithbullets.Tylerclearsthegate,openfiringonthecarspeedingaway.
Pop.Pop.Pop.Pop.Pop.Pop.Pop.Pop.
Tobias’saimpaysoffwhenthecarcrashesintoanearbytree.
BythetimeImakeittohim,TobiasisrippingoneoftheMiamicrewoutofthecarandmakesquickworkofdroppinghisgunbeforebreakinghistattedneckwithhisbarehands.
Checkingthecabinofthecar,Ispotoneofthemcoughingupblood,tryingtohideinthedivideinseatsbetweenthetwoblownairbagsandtakehimoutwithasingleshot.
Asecondlater,IhearascreamandlookovertoseeTylertakingouthisgriefinawaythatnauseatesmebeforehefires.
Pop.Pop.
Justafter,aneeriesilenceblanketsthehouseandsurroundinggrounds.
Long,tensesecondspass.
It’sover.Fornow.
“Getbacktothehouse,”Tylersnapsashepassesme,trailingTobias,who’salreadyhalfwaythere.
Isilentlyfollow,myeyesscanningthelifelessbodieslitteringtheporchtoseeifanyofthemareourown.I’mthankfulwhenIcomeupempty,butIknowthezerocountisn’ttrue.
Layla’sfacecrossesmymindalongwithherordertocomebacktoher,andallIcandoisthankwhateverfatedecidedIdeservedtomakeithometoday.Knowingitmaynotbethesamefatetomorrow.
Foranyofus.
Becauseawarhasjuststarted,andweallknowit.
Preparedornot,it’scoming,andthat’snottheonlythinginstoreformyfuture.Asoflastnight,Laylagavemeevenmoreincentivetoreturntoher—asifshewasn’tenough.
I’mstillreelingaboutthefactthatI’mgoingtobeafather.
Astheexhilarationofthatknowledgeflitsin,it’soverriddenbyanother—he’llneverknowmysonordaughter.
Feelingtheweightofthelossstarttocrippleme,Isilentlystepintothefoyertoseebirdsgathering—onebyonefromdifferentdirectionsastherestfileinfromtheporch.Corpseslayscatteredaroundus,bloodseepingintothefloors,bulletholeslitteringthewalls.It’safuckingbloodbath,butIcanonlybethankfulthatmostofwhat’sbeenspilledisn’tours.
RusselljoinsTylerandmewherewestandnexttothefrontdoor,equallyassessing.SeanappearstomyrightandjoinsusatthefootofthestairsasTylerlooksovertome.“Compoundready?”
Inodbeforeaskingmyownquestion.“Theybrokethroughoneofourborders?”
Henodsinreply.“Fourbirdsgone.Theydidn’thavetimetosendawarning.”
“Anyothercompanycomingtoday?”Iask.
“Wethinkthisisallofthemfornow,butwe’regoingtomakefuckingsure.”Heelevateshisvoicetoeveryonegathered.“Noheadhitsapillowuntilweare.IwanteveryfuckingbirdandtheirclosestatDenny’swithinthehour,”hejerkshischintowardme.“Nofuckingexceptions.”
Wordlessnodsandchindipsareallwecanconveyasweallglancearoundatthecarnage.
It’swhenRusselllooksuptothesecondfloorandfreezesthatIfollowhislineofsightandstill—chestseizing.Tobiasstandsatthetopofthestairs,Dom’slifelessbodycradledinhisarms,drawingeveryeyetohimbeforeheslowlystartstodescend.AnanguishedmewleruptsfromSeanbeforehehitshisknees,palmingthetopofhishead,bodybentasiftakingcoverwhilehisgriefechoesaroundus.
Onebyone,headsstarttobowasTobiasdrawscloser,facetwistedinagony,tearsspillingfromhislifelesseyes.
MyowneyesspilloverasTylerclipsoutahoarserequest.“Russell,grabyour—”
“Onit,”hesays,turningandmakingabeelineforhiscar.
WhenTobiashitsthebottomofthestairs,weallstepback,givinghimawideberth.Unabletolookaway,IliftmyheadjustasTobiaspasses,staringstraightaheadashewalksdowntheporchsteps.It’sthesightofDom’slimphandthathasmythroatclosingasSean’sagonizedgruntsfilltheair.WiththeslamofRussell’scardoor,themorningbirdsbegintosingasifourwholeworlddidn’tjustfuckingstop.
Myonlyfriend.
Tyler
Thewindkicksup,thebreezerustlingthetreesabove,creatingacalmingatmospherejustasthesunpeeksout,highlightingthesolidwhitecasketbeforeus.Theroaringinmychestemanatesinunisonwiththegriefofeverysingleoneofusgathered—inkedarmsmotionlessattheirsides.
Noonespeaks.Noonewantsto.Thereisnoceremonybecauseourbrotherwouldhavehatedit.Wedon’tneedwordsspokenbecauseI’mcertainwe’realllostsomewhereintimewithhim.Ourindividualmemoriesfloodingus—acomforttosome,excruciatingforothers.
I’mthelatter.
Mostofusarebangedup,bandaged,orinphysicalpaininsomeformoranotherduetothebattlethatstartedtheminuteDomlosthis.Afightwealllost,nomatterhowmanyofusescapedbreathingbecausetheaftermathisfuckingexcruciating.
Ournewrealitysurreal.
Oneinwhichourmagnetnolongerexists.
Flashesofmybrothershutterin.Thedaywemet.Ourfirstlate-nightbikeride.Sharingourfirststolenbeer.Coughingthroughourfirstjoint.Ourhighschoolhomeroomtheatrics.Thesharedpainsofgrowingfromboystomen.
Homingin,Iattachmyselftoafewthatstickout.OnebeingthedaySean,Dom,andIstoodoutsidethenewlypurchasedgarage—rattlinginsidewiththeinklingthatwewereontheprecipiceofsomethingbigger,betterthanthesimplicityofourcurrentlives.Thewordlesslookswesharedbeforewestaredupatthebuilding.ThesatisfactioninDom’seyeswhenhefixedhisfirstcar.ThedayheleftforBoston,hesitatingbrieflywithhisduffleonhisshoulder—notturningbacktofaceanyofus,thesamewayIhesitatedthedayIlefttotrainasamarine.Becauseweknewwewouldn’tbeabletotakeanotherstepforwardifwedid.
Staringatmybrother’sgrave,Itravelthroughripsintimebetweenusall,andthetiethatboundus—broughtusallbacktogether.Ourbondfirstandalwaysbeforeourpurpose,reason,andagenda.It’stheverythingthatmadeusthatfeelsasthoughit’sbreakingusnow.
Inmyperipheral,IcatchtheslowliftofSean’sheadandturntoseehiswateringeyeszeroinginonTobias,filledwithacontemptIneverimaginedIwouldwitness.Tobiasstandsontheothersideofthecoffin,dressedinanimmaculateblacksuit,notahairoutofplace,hisexpressionthatofamanutterlydestroyed.FeelingSean’sgaze,heliftshiseyestomeethisjudgment.AstheystareacrossDom’scasket,Ifeelthetruebreaksetinbetweenthem,alongwiththeknowledgethattheywillneverbethesame.
Thatcripplingrealizationlodgesathickballinmythroat.Nexttome,Delphinesqueezesmyhand,havingmissednoneofit.Needingher,IgriphersjustastightlyasDom’scasketstartstolower.It’swiththatfinalitythatJeremyburstswherehestands,gruntsofpainleavinghimashistearsflowfreely.WithJeremy’sbreak,griefstartstodisperseinspurtsthroughoutthecrowd.It’sthenTobiasvisiblyfracturesfromtheweightbeforeturningabruptlyandstalkingtowardhisJag.
PressingakisstoDelphine’stemple,Iwhisperalow,“I’llbe—”
“Go,”shewhispers,hergazefixedonDom’scasketasitsinksfurtherintothehallowedground.
I’mtenstepsbehindwhenIsnapoutTobias’snameinvain,knowingexactlywherehe’sgoingandtowhom.
“Tobias…”Imanage,mythroatthick.“Youcan’tgo,”Iswallow,joggingtocatchupwithhimashequickenshispace.“Youknowyoucan’t—”
“Whereisshe?”Hesnaps,notsparingaglancebackashepullshiskeysfromhispocket.
“Youdon’twanttodothis,”Iwarn.“Itwillonly—”
Heturnsonadime.“Whereisshe?!”
“Atschool,”Iexhale,exasperated
Withintheminute,he’sinsidehisJag,speedingtowardGeorgia,towardCecelia.Buteventhisfargoneinhisgrief,webothknowhewon’tmakeitpastthestateline.He’llprotecther,evenifdoingsodestroyswhat’sleftofhim.Whenhiscarisoutofsight,Iturnandstartmyclimbbackupthehillandthroughthegate.Thesundisappearsbeneathablanketofcloudsasthecrowdbeginstodisperseinscatteredwaves.Delphineremainstheonlyoneleft,lookingsosmallasshestandsisolatedattheedgeofthegrave,eyescastdown.Standingnearbywithshovels,thetwomenatthereadylooktomeforpermissiontostart,andIjerkmyhead,refusingtoallowhertoseeit.Hergriefandfeararetoomuchofacombinationtoendure.Ormaybeit’smine.
It’swhenIreachherthatIseethetruetollinherposture—whichlooksmorematernal,likethatofagrievingmother—asshestaresdownathernephew’sgrave.Standingidlynexttoher,it’swhenthelastcarstartsandbeginstopullawaythatshefinallyturnstomeandallowsherselftofallapartinmyarms.
Russell
Spottingthekidpeekingbehindthetreeasthelastofthesoilispattedin,IwaitatmycaruntilhestartstoapproachDom’sgrave.
Helookstobenomorethantwelveorthirteen,butIcanseeinhisposturethathe’smaturedfarbeyondhisage.ItbecomesevenmoreapparentasIapproach,andheturnshiswatchfulgazetowardme.Hiseyesarefilledtothebrim,athousandemotionsflittingthroughthem.Hislipiscut,andthere’sayellowbruisebeneathoneofhiseyes.
Istandbesidehiminwait,sensingsomefamiliaritybutunabletoplacewhoheis.
“Hey,”Isay,liningmyfootingupwithhis.
Thekid’schestbouncesashestaresdownatthefreshsoil,andIappraisehim.Helookslikehehasn’tbathedindaysoreatenwellinmonths,hisskinsickly.
“Hewas…”thekidstarts,“hewastheonly…”hetriesagainandfailsbeforedecidingtoallowhisgriefthrough—thoughhebatsawayafewofhistears.“Hewastheonlypersonwhoeversawme,”thekidsniffsandfalters,facecrumblingasthoughhe’slosteverything.
MyeyesburnasIstaredownatthedirtandnod.“Icanrelate.”
Forme,Domwasamentor,afriend,andtheonlyhumanbeingwhotrulysawthestrugglegoingoninsideme.Hepinpointeditearly,talkeditoutwithmewhenIwantedto,andsatitoutwithmewhenIdidn’t.
Itwasoursecret.
Gettinglostinthatthought,thekidspeaksupagain,hisvoicefilledwithutterdevastation.“I-Iwenttot-thegaragelastweek,andthatg-guyPetertoldme,”heshakeshishead,“nevermind.I’msorryforyourloss.Ishouldn’tbehere.”
Thekidmovestowardthegate,andoninstinct,Ipalmhisshoulder.Heflinches,instantlypullinghimselffrommygripwhenitdawnsonme.AconversationDomandIhadbeforeheleftforFrance.“YouZach?”
Henods,eyeswideningalittle.“Hetoldyouaboutme?”
“Yeah,hedid,”Inod.“AndIcantellyourightnow,you’reexactlywhereyouneedtobe.”Asoul-crushingreliefcovershisfaceasInodtowardmycar.“Let’sgo.”
Sean
“AlfredSeanRoberts,getyourassbackinthishouserightnow!”MomyellsatmybackasIraceoutofthedriveway,oneofmyshoesslippingonmypedalasIcallovermyshoulder.“I’llberightback,Mama!”
“Now,mister!”Momhollersafterme,andIknowshemeansbusiness.
IfIgetmySundayschoolclothesdirty,I’mgoingtogetanass-whoopin’.Ipedalfaster,myshoesslowingmedownasmydadhollersmynamefromtheporchwhenIturnthecorner.
Ipretendnottohearhim.IfIgobacknow,hemightnotbethere.
Isawhimwhenwepassedonthewayhomefromchurch—sittingonthecurb.He’salwaysonthecurbandneverplays.Turningontohisstreet,Iseehe’sstillthere,sittingnexttohismailbox.HeseesmejustbeforeIrideupandstandsupfast,lookingbothways.
MyshoesslidealittlewhenIputmyfeetdowntostop.“Hi.”
HestaresatmeasifIdidn’ttalktohim.
“Youwanttoridebikeswithme?”Iask.
Hejustblinksatme.He’sgotdarkhairandskin.MycousinBradlysaidhisfamilyarefortuners.
“Where’syourbike?”Iask,andhedoesn’tsayanything.
“Ifyougetyourbike,wecanride.”Whenhedoesn’ttalk,Itryagain.“Bradlysaidyouwereafortuner!”Ishout.“Areyouweird?!”Itiltmyhead.“Youdon’tlookweird.”
Hesquintsatme.
“Canyouhearme?!”Iyell.
“Icrashedmybike,”hesays,squintingharderlikeI’mstupid.
Istepoffmybikeandstartrollingittowardhim.He’sgotaT-shirtwithacaronit.IlikeBatmanbetter.“Youcanridemine,butonlyforabit.IhavetochangeoutofmySundayclothes.”
Hejerkshischinandlooksbackathishouse.“Ican’tleavetheyard.”
Itiltmyhead.“Youcan’trideonyourstreet?Icanrideonmystreet,yourstreet,allover.”
“No,”heshakeshishead.
“Why?Whereisyourmom?I’llaskher.”
“She’sdead.”
“Oh.CanIaskyourdad?”
“He’sdead.”
Ikickatarock.“Thenwhodoyoulivewith?”
“Tatie,”hesays,lookingatmybikelikehewantstorideit.
“What’saTatie?”
“TatiemeansauntinFrench.”
“You’reFrench?That’swhatfortunermeans?”
“Youtalkalot,”hesays,tiltinghishead.
Ilaughathim.“Italkthesameaseveryoneelse.Youtalkfunny.”
Hesquintsatmeagain.
“Youcanridemine,butjustforabit,”Iholdthehandlesouttohim.Whenhedoesn’ttakethem,Isigh.He’shardheaded.
“Okay.Well,Ihavetogo.”Iturnandwalkslowly,knowingDaddywillmeetmeattheporchandskinmyhide.
“I’llgeton,justfora…bit,”hesaysitlikeme.Iturnbacktoseehimrushingtowardmebeforetakingmybikebythehandle.Hesitsontheseat,putsonefootonthepedal,andwaits.
“Areyouscaredbecauseyoucrashed?”
“I’mnotscared,”hesaysthroughhisteeth.
He’sscared.
“Icrashedbefore,too,cutmyhandgoodandbloody.”Iholditupforhim.Hedoesn’tlookmadanymorebutstilldoesn’tpushonthepedals.“Just…pushthepedalsreallyfastandholdthebarsstraight.Youcandoit.”
“Dom?”Ihearcalledfrominsidehishouse.“Dom!?”
“Thatyou?”Iask.“YouDom?”
Henodsanddropshishead.“That’smybrother,”hesaysashegetsoffthebikeandholdsitouttome.“Hewon’tletmeridewithstrangers.”
“Okay,”Isay.“Well…meetmetonight,afterbed.”
Hejerkshishead.“Hewon’tletme.”
“Don’ttellhim.”Ismile.
“Oh.”Hiseyesgowide.“Okay.”
“Itwillbeoursecret.”
Henods.
Ipointtothestreetlight.“Meetmeoverthere.Ineedtogethome.I’mgoingtogetanass-whoopin’forcomingtomeetyouinmychurchclothes.”
Hethrowshisheadbackandlaughs.
“Youthinkthat’sfunny?”Ismile.“ThatI’mgoingtogetanass-whoopin’tomeetyou?”
Henodsagainandagain,smiling,andIsmiletoo.
“Okay,Dom,seeyouafterdark.”
IlookbackasIpushthepedals.“I’mSean.”
Henodsagain,stillsmiling.ThefrontdooropensathishouseasIturnthecorner.“Dom,whatareyoudoing?Getoutofthestreet!”
“Youwerefearlesslyflyingdownthatstreetbymidnight,”Isay,rippingatsomeofthegrassnearhisheadstone—chestroaringasithasbeensinceIsawhislifelessbodyonCecelia’sbedroomfloornearlythreemonthsago.“Notthatyouasked,butIdidgetanass-whoopin’justtocomeandmeettheboywhosatonthecurbeveryday.”
Awaveofpaincrashesintomeasmyeyessting.“BestdecisionIevermade.Iwon’teverregretit,”Ichokeout.WavesofanguishrushthroughmeasIlowermygazetothedefinitivedates.Thedatesthatmarkthebeginningofhislifeandtheendofit.IcomehereasoftenasIcantoconvincemyselfthatthisisreal.
Thathe’sgone.
Somethinginsidemerefusestobelieveit.
Ourlastwordsweren’tatallsentimentalinnatureoranythingmemorable.Moretransactionalandoutoffear.
Butheknew.Healwaysknewofmyaffectionforhimandviceversa.Iusedtowonderwhypeopleweresoworriedaboutlastwordsaftersomeonepassesbecausetherelationshipiswhatmattersmost,butIgetitnow.Igetit.Iwouldgiveanythingtohavethosesecondsback,butIstillhavenoideawhatthosewordswouldbe.
Thenandthere,Idecidetherewon’tbe.
I’llneverstoptalkingtohim.
“Fuck,”Iraspoutatthestingofthememoryofthedaywemet.Seeingthatkidonthecurb,seeminglylostandwaitingforanyoneoranythingtocomealong.ThesecondtimeIsawhim,Ijustknewthatsomeonehewaswaitingforwasme.Justasthatsuretysettlesoverme,thebreezekicksup,andthetreesrustleabove,thefoliagefloatingslowlytowardthegroundaroundme.ThehingeofthegatesqueaksasIfocusonagoldleafasitlandsontopofhisheadstone.
“Youalwaysknewhowtohelpmemakesenseofthings,andyouleftmeheretofigureitallout.Youdidthatforme.Youalwaysputthingsintoperspective.Ican’t,”Iswallow,“…IneedyoubecauseIcan’tmakesenseofthis,brother.NomatterhowhardItry,Ican’tunderstandhowyounotbeingherewilleverbethewaythingsweresupposedtoplayout.”TheballinmythroatchokesmesilentmomentarilyasIgruntagainstit.
“I’msofuckinglost,Dom.”Ifistmyeyesasthemercilesscrackripplesthroughmeasithaseverysingledaysinceheleft.
“HowinthehellamIsupposedtodothiswithoutyou?Thetruthis,Ican’t…butyou’regoingtomakeme,aren’tyou?”
Thebreezeblowssteadily,andIclosemyeyesinanattempttogathermyself.Facestinging,Itakeafewdeepbreaths,andinsidethem,somehowconjureanimageofafreezingJanuarynight.AglimpseofDomandmeafewyearsafterwemet,flyingdownthestreetonourbikes.Theshineonhis,whichwasbrandnewasheflewpastme,armsraisedjustasitstartedtosnow.
“We’reflying,”heyells,lookingbackatme,eyesbright,asmiletakingupthewholeofhisface.I’mflyingwithhim.Headtiltedup,snowflakespeltingmynoseandlipsashewhizzespastme—pastthestreetlightandintothedarkness,hishigh-pitchedvoicefilteringbacktome,“Comeon,Sean!”
Mycellphonevibrates,jarringmeoutofthemostvividmemoryI’veeverhad,andI’mstrangledwithagonyatthelossofitashisvoiceechoesthroughtimeandbacktome.“Comeon,Sean!”
“I’mrightbehindyou,”Iwhisperinpromise,“I’mrightbehindyou,Dom.”
“I’mgladthatyoulovedhim,andI’mgladheknewwhatitfeltliketobelovedbyyoubeforehedied,andit’sbecauseofthewayyoulove,Cecelia.”—Tobias,TheFinishLine
Tyler
“Nemepleurepas.Promismoi.”
Delphine’swhisperedpleaechoesthroughmeasIstandatthelargewindowinmysuite.GazetrailinguptheglitteringEiffelTowertothehighbeamshootingstraightupintothecloudsabove.Thundersoundsnearby,lightraintricklingdownthefour-squaredwindowpaneastherumbleofmyphonefollows.
T:Whatwerehisexactinstructions?
SighingatthesightofthesamemessageI’vegottenadozentimesormore,Itypemyreply.
Workingoncrackingthattopagain?
T:Always.
IswearIrelayedeverywordtoyouverbatim.
T:Humormeandtellmeonemoretime.
Inablink,I’mre-livingthedayIgavethelaptoptohim.AdayI’velivedthroughonetoomanytimes.
“Wakeup,asshole,”Isnap,pushingthroughthedoor,stillfuriousaboutthehandhedealtSeanandmeyesterdaywhenhewokeupinthehospital.AmomentIprayedforeverysecondsincehewasgunneddownonthestreetandspentaweekinacoma.TheupsetinhiseyeswhenherealizedhesurvivedbrokemeinawayIcan’teverseebeingrepaired.Notafterallthelosswe’vesuffered.
Sicklypaleanddressedinahospitalgown,hisheadlollsinmydirection,eyesglazedover.Aglazethathasn’tclearedasinglefuckingdayinthelastyear.“I’mawake.”
“No,youaren’t,”Isnap,“butyou’reabouttobe.”Idropthemachineontohislap,ignoringhispainedwince.It’sadickmove,butit’sthepainchurninginmyownchestthathasmegivingzerofucksaboutmytheatricsorhisdiscomfort.It’spasttimeheacknowledgeshe’snottheonlyonesuffering.
Sean’srefusaltospeakawordtohimwhenhewoke—thoughhesatbyhissidetheentiretimehewasunconscious—hadusclosetoexchangingblowsinthehospitalparkinglotyesterday.I’vedonenothingbutfightforayearandaweeksinceDomdied,tryingtosalvagewhat’sleftofus.
Ayearandaweeklater,andI’moutoffuckingpatience.
“We’velosttwenty-fivegoddamnbirds,”Iremindhim,“andI’llbedamnedifyourcasketisnexttohittheground.It’stimetowakeup!”
Liftingtheheavylaptopinhishand,heextendsittowardmetotakeit,andIbatitbackdowntowhereitcrashespainfullyagainsthischest.Hecursesbutdoesn’tlashout,andwebothknowwhy.Hisselfishabsencehascostusenough.
“Tyler,”hecroakshoarsely,“Ican’t.Just—”
“Hisinstructionswereclear.Idon’tgetto‘just’anything.”
“Instructions?”Heasks,eyesloweringtothesleekmachine.
“Yeah,that‘iftheworsthappens,Iwastoputitintherightsetofhands.’”Openingthelaptoptodemonstrate,Ipressmyfingeronit,andnothinghappens.Grippinghisfinger,Ipressthepadinthesameplace,anditlightsupinstantly.Iliftmypalms.“It’sobviousthatsetofhandsisn’tmine.”
“Ican’t,”Tobiaschokesoutinaplea,hisvoicetetheredfromthetubingtheyremovedyesterdaythatpumpedbreathintohimwhileSeanandIsatback,terrifiedhewouldneverdrawhisownagain.Whenheroused,andtherealizationsetinthathe’dsurvived,itwasimmediatelyfollowedbydespair…thetruthwasmadeclear.Hewantedtodie
AngerboilsoverasIlashoutatthememory.“Fuckyou!”
Hiseyessnaptomineinconfusion,soIsethimstraight.
“Youraisedsoldiers,”Ipoundmychest.“Andrightnow,youhaveanarmyyou’renotfuckingcommanding.Atthispoint,we’rejustasaimlessasyou’vebeensinceweburiedhim!Ican’tdothisalone.Correction,Iwon’tdothisalone,andyou’renottheonlyonegoingthroughshit.”
Hestaresthroughme.Ihaven’tmadeadent.Nothinghas.
“I’velosteveryfuckingthingrightalongwithyou,youselfishprick!”
Iseeittheseconditregisterswithhim.
Delphine.
IswallowaswhatstrengthIhavedisperses.AsidefromwatchingthewomanIloveloseherbattletoasicknessIcouldn’tfightforher,mybrothersareallwalkingshellsatthispoint.Hiseyesslickoverwithgriefashestudiesme.
“Tyler,IknowthatI’m—”
“IfIdon’tevergetmybrother’sback,Iguessthat’sonething,andmaybe,oneday,I’llmakepeacewiththat.”Irelay,chokingonthefactthatmaybethetruth.“Butthat’snothappeningtoday.So,I’mnotcarryingoutanotherfuckingtaskforthisinkuntilIhavethemanbackwhoputitthere.Wakethefuckup,T,”Istalkovertothedoor.
Grippingthelonghandle,Iglancebacktoseehimlookingatme.Ifanything,I’veearnedhisattention.“YoutakeforgrantedthebreathinyourbodywhileIwatchedherstruggleforeverysingleone.Shewantedthosebreathsbecauseitmeanthavinganotherday—withme.Youwanttolineupwiththerestofyourfamily,gorightonahead,butIwillnotfuckingbetheretowitnessitifyoudon’tfightforyourownbreathsanymore.Theydeservebetter…Ideservebetter.So,ifyougiveafuckaboutmeatall,”Ipleadwithhimforthelastfuckingtime,“wakethefuckup!”
Tomysurprise,Tobiastextedmebacktothehospitalthenextday.Sadly,myplantomotivatehimwithDom’slaptopandtargetlistbitmeintheasswhenTobiaswasunabletocrackintoit.
Eightyearslater,we’renocloserthanhewasthedayIdeliveredit,hopingitwouldrestorehisfireandgivehimarenewedsenseofpurpose.
He’sfoundthatpurposeandismoredeterminedthanevertoseetherestofhismissionthrough.ButknowingTobias,hewon’tbeabletorestuntilhe’smadegoodonthepromisehemadetoDomyearsago.
Tobefair,we’vealreadyseenalotofthosethrough.Ifheiswatching,IdoubtDomwouldbedisappointed.Tobias’srenewedsenseofmissionhashimanxioustogetstarted.Oneisbecauseofthepositionwe’reinwiththeUSGovernment.Two,soatonepoint,hecanclaimhisnewlyarchitectedfuturewithCecelia.
Ican’tblamehimatallfortheselfishquesttoenditprematurely.Ihadthesameselfishneedinsavoringthesecondswiththeloveofmylife.
Ifgiventhechance,I’ddoitalloveragain—evenknowingtheoutcome.Though,Iwentinknowingit.
Afteryearsofselflessdeprivation,Tobiasiswisetothat—ofhowpreciousacurrencytimeis,andinnowaydoIdisagreethatweneedtoseethelastofthisthroughbeforeeitherofuscanhangitup.
Oursacrificesaretoofuckingmany,toogreat—it’sourtimetoreign.
Thistime,withtheadditionofaqueen.
Herwingsandupgradedstatusrightfullyearned.
EvenasDom’splantooverthrowAntoinetookabackseattoourwarwithMiami,thereformingofourorganization,theelection,andthedestructionoflooseends—Julienneverforgot.Taskedwiththeunimaginable,Julienrecruitedcarefullyandmasterfully,strengtheningthebirdshiddeninAntoine’sranks.Dom’splanhatchedjustintimeforCeceliatoswoopinandsetoffachainofeventstotakeAntoinedown.
Inourshortstintworkingtogethersince,Julienhasquicklybecomeoneofourmosttrustedassets,surprisingusallwithhiscapabilities.ThoughDomisirreplaceable,Julienhasproventobeworthhisweightinfuckinggold.
We’vebeenmaimingthoseremaininginAntoine’sdefectivearmyinthemonthssinceCeceliatookhimdown.Clearingapathforthenextphase.
SomeofthefuckersAntoinehadunderhisrulewereruthlesstothepointtheyinnowaywantedtochangetheirwaystosuithavingwings,andso,we’vehadtoputafewdown.Thankfully,throughJulien,we’vebeenabletotrackdownthehardestcases.
Butbecausewe’vehadtowipesomanyofAntoine’sthugsfromourdocket,we’vemadenewenemies,andthey’remakingtheirpresenceknown.
Manyofthemhavebecomeboldintheirquesttoretaliate.Asaprecautionarymeasure,we’vemovedresidenceseverydayforthelastweek.Tonight,werentedoutanentireboutiquehotelandhavearmedFrenchravensonwatchtakingsweepshiftsoneveryfloor.WealsohaveSecretServiceoneveryblockwithinaquartermile—addedaidfrommybossandourcurrentPresident.
Wehavenoplanstogoquietly,orforthatmatteratall,especiallywiththerecentdrasticincreaseinthesizeofourmovement.
AfterpullingonaT-shirt,Ituckaguninthebackofmyjeansandexitmyroom,noddingatthetwobirdsstandingguardjustoutsidetheirsuitedoorbeforeknocking.
Secondslater,Tobiasanswersinnothingbuthispajamabottoms,hisposturewaryfromanotherdayofcleanup.
Heopensthedoorjustenoughformetoslipinwithhiswhisper,“Cecelia’ssleeping.”
Nodding,IbendtogreetBeau,allowinghimtosniffmyhandbeforescratchingbehindhisears.Ascuteasheis,he’satemperamental,needylittleshitwhowillmakeafussifhe’snotacknowledgedordoesn’tgetthelovehefeelshedeserves.HeisalsothesecondappleofTobias’seye.
Scanningthelargesuite,Ispytheopenlaptopattheendofasolidoakdiningroomtablethatseatsadozenandmakemywaytowardit.Tobiastakesaseatbehindthetableandtypesinthefirstoftwopasswords.ThefirstpasswordhecreatedwasenclosedinthenotethedayIdeliveredit.
ALWAYSBROTHERS
It’sthesecondwe’veneverbeenabletogetpast.
“Idon’tunderstandwhyhewouldmakeitsofuckinghard,”Tobiasgroans
“Whywouldn’the?”Icounter.
“Igetthat,butit’ssomethingI’msupposedtoknow,”hefrownsatthescreen.“Tellmewhathesaid.”
“We’vegoneoverthis,man.Hesaidtoputitintherightsetofhands.Yourprintsaretheonlyonesthatfireupthisfuckingthing.”Justasathoughtoccurstome,Ceceliaspeaksupfrombehindus.
“That’sDom’s,”shewhispershoarsely,andwebothturnourheadstoseeherstandingjustafewfeetaway,tighteningalong,floor-lengthsilkrobeasshestaresatthelaptoplikethefuckingghostitis.“That’sDom’slaptop.”
“Didwewakeyou,Trésor?”Tobiasasks,hiseyesrovingoverherinthewaytheyalwaysdo—awaythatconveysexactlywhatshemeanstohim—life
“Icouldn’tsleep,”sherepliesbeforebendingtoscratchherattention-seekingwhoreofadog.“Todaywas…long.”
Understatement.
Todaywasfuckinghorrific.Cecelia’sbodycountclimbedsubstantiallyinthemonthssincesheandTobiasleftAtlanta,herwingsspreadingandstrengtheningbytheday.TheinnocenceofthegirlImetateighteenislonggoneandreplacedbyafiercelymade,forgedbyfirefuckingwarrior.
“You’veseenthis?”Iask,noddingtowardthelaptop.Shenods,hereyestravelingoverthepieceofDomsittingonthetableinfrontofthethreeofus.
“What’sonit?”Sheasks.
“Wedon’tknow,Trésor,”Tobiassighs.“That’swhatwe’vebeentryingtofigureout.Fortoofuckinglong.”
“Youcan’tgetin?”Sheasks,peeringattheimageonthescreen—SantaholdingawavingAmericanflag.
Tobiasgripsherhipandlooksupatherfromwherehesits.“Rememberwhenwemet,ItoldyouDomandIwerehavingalotofproblemsseeingeyetoeyeonhisextremes?”
CecelianodsasTobiaslooksbackatthescreen,hisgazesomewhereinthepast.“Hewasinthemidstofbuildingfilesofincriminatingevidenceagainstalotofthecorrupt.Somehow,he’stappedintowhatnooneshouldbeableto.Isenthimthislaptoptohelpputhislisttogether.”
Shepalmshisshoulderinencouragementashesearcheshismemory.“IwassearchingforAbijah,soitwasnotlongafteryouarrivedinTripleFalls.”
Shenodsagain,sadnessetchingherfeatures,concerninhereyesforhim.Iseeittheminuteherecognizesit,andhiseyessoftenwithdevotion.
Herfocusdartsbacktothescreen.“So,Santameansalist,right?”
“Right,”Tobiasnods.
Shereadsthelittlesquareboxinsidetheflag.“AndthehintisN-enemy?”
“Yes,we’veexacerbatedeverythingwecanthinkofinthatrespect.We’veevencalledinexpertstocalculatealistofpossibilities,butmyfingershavetobetheonestotypetheanswer.There’snowayaroundit,andIhaven’texactlyhadthetimetodevote—”
“Tobias,”sheinterjects,“theNstandsfornatural.”
“Yes,Trésor,we’veconsideredthat,but—”
“That’swhatitis,”shepresses.“NaturalEnemy.”
“JesusChrist,”IutterasIlookbetweenthem,theinklinggrowingstronger.
Theybothturntome,alarmedastheimageofDomscanninghisroomthenighthedied,hisbacktome,shuttersin.Hewasn’tlooking—hewasthinking
Tobiasspeaksupfirst,hopesparkinginhiseyes.“What?”
“I’msuchagoddamnedidiot.”IturntoCecelia.“HaveyouevertypedintoDom’scomputer?”
Shenods.
“Doyourememberwhat?”Iprompt.
Sheshakesherhead.“No,itwasjustabunchofhiscodes,letters,andnumbers.”
“No,itwasn’t,”Isay.
“Tyler,”Tobiassnapsoutofpatience.
GrippingCecelia’sfinger,Ipressittothenewlydarkenedkeyboard,anditlightsuplikeChristmas.Tobias’seyeswideninshockasIexhale.“Hewasencryptingyourfingerprintsandprogrammedthemtothiskeyboard.”
“When?”Tobiasasks.
“It’sallabouttiming,isn’tit?”Isigh,shakingmyhead.
Tobiasnods,knowingexactlywhenheencryptedthem.
“WhatamImissing?”Ceceliaasks.
“Thenighthedied,”Tobiasanswersforme.“HetoldTylerthatifanythinghappenedtohim,togetthelaptopintotherightsetofhands.”
“Therightsetofhands,”Iwhisper,“Asintwosetsofgoddamnhands.”
Tobiashadthefirstpasscode,shehadtheother,andevenifhefigureditout,Ceceliahadtobetheonetotypeitin.
“Doyouknowtheanswer,Trésor?”
“Ido,”sherepliesaswebothtenseup.Shepositionsherselfbehindhischairbeforerunningherpalmsuphisbackalongtheexpanseofhisraventattoo.“HeandIhadtheconversationinpassingoneday.I’msureyou’veguessedathousandgovernment-basedterms,right?”
“Right,”Tobiasnods.
“You’rethinkingofaman’snaturalenemy.”Shebendstowhisperinhisear.“WhatisaRaven’snaturalenemy?”
Fingershoveringoverthekeys,Ceceliatypesineachletter.
BALDEAGLE
Inthenextbreath,thescreenspringstolife.Alistoffileslinesup,andonename,inparticular,catchesmycompleteattentionasTobiasstaresupatCecelia,incredulous.SecondsofstunnedsilenceensueasTobiastriestomakesenseofit.“Itwasyou,Trésor.Heknew—”
Cecelia’seyesfillandIglanceoverather.
“Wehadtobetogether,”Tobiasraspsout.“Itwastheonlywayin.”
Shenodsinperfectunderstanding,agrief-filledtearslidingdownhercheek.
ElationquicklyturnstoalarmwhenIrecallmyconversationwithDomyearsago—thedayCeceliaarrivedinTripleFalls—andDomtriedtoexplainwhathewasdealingwith.
“Thatbad?”Iask.
“Worse,thesearen’tactsofwar.”
Ireadymyselfmentallyforwhateverwe’reabouttoseeasTobiasandCeceliaremainstaringatoneanother,bewildered.
“Please,man,please,”Iplead.“Iknowthisisheavy,butIhavetoknow.Afterallthistime,Ihavetofuckingknow.”
Tobiasstaresbackatthescreen,hisownfearcomingouttoplay.“Trésor—”
“Don’twasteyourbreath,”sheshakesherheadadamantly,hereyesrelayingenough,andhenods.He’sbeencompletelytransparentwithhersinceshetookAntoinedown.
ButevenIhavetovoicemyobjection—atleasttowarnher.“Cecelia,thisisdifferent.Thisissomethingyoucanneverunsee.”
“Ishotthreementoday.Don’tfuckingpreachtome,Jennings,”shesnaps,givingusbothapointedlook.ItwouldbecomicalifTobiasandIweren’ttrulyconcerned.Thisiswhattorturedourbrotherandhadhimactingoutofpocketupuntilhisdeath.
“Okay,Trésor,butplease—”
“Ifit’stoomuch,Ipromisetowalkaway,”sheassuresusbothbeforeTobiasturnsbacktothelaptop,trepidationlitteringhisprofile.
Bracingmyself,Ifeelitcoming.Iknowthatwhateverwe’reabouttodiscoverwillirrevocablychangethethreeofusasTobiasclicksthefirstfile,andavideopopsup.
Mereminuteslater,IhaveTobiaspinnedtothefloor,usingeverybitofmystrengthasIpressmykneeintohisbackwhileheroarsbeneathmeinamixoftormentandfury.AgonizedcriesleavehimasCeceliaquicklylaysonthefloornexttohimonherstomach,gentlycallinghisnameoverandovertobringhimoutofthedarknessthatengulfedhim.DoingwhatIcan,Ichimeinasheflailsphysicallyandmentally.
“We’llgeteverysinglefuckingoneofthem,T,”Igritoutashestrugglesagainstme.“Isweartoyou,man,we’llgetthemall.Everysinglefuckingone.”
“I’mrighthere,Tobias.Lookatme.Please,mylove,lookatme,”Ceceliabegs,hertear-streakedfaceaninchfromhis,thehorrorswe’vewitnessedreflectinginhereyes.Shepeersbackathim,voicesoothingasshepalmshisjaw.
“Trésor,”hegaspsjustashegoeslimpbeneathme.
“Tyler,lethimgo,”Ceceliawhispers,notlookingawayfromhim.
UnabletothinkpastthesecondI’min,IwatchthemforendlessminutesasCeceliacoaxesherkingforwardinthewayonlyshecan.
Likeeverythingelse,Domjustfuckingknew.
WiththewayDomsetthisup,therewasnootherwaytotaskTobiaswithafuturehecouldn’tsurvivewithouthertofallbackon.AplanthatwasimpossibleforTobiastoexecutewithoutherstrength.AnundertakingherefusedtolethimnearwithoutCeceliatheretobringhimbackfromthedarkplacesinhismind.
BecausethatwaswhatshedidforDom.
Cecelia’salwaysbeenareprieve,asafehaven,andhadtheresiliencemanyofusdidn’t.
It’swhatnoneofuscouldpinpointinsideherbecauseweweretheoneswhoeventuallytesteditandbroughtitoutofher.
Domfigureditoutatsomepointandgaveherthepositionbeforesheearnedit.
StaringbackatthestartofthevideothatsetTobiasoff,nauseachurnsinmygutatthememoryofeachhorrificsecond,butImanagetotampitdown.
Ouragendafortheforeseeablefutureissorted.
TheideathatDomshoulderedthisonhisownistoomuchtofuckingbear.We’dallcondemnedhimforhisbehaviorwhiledaily,hestruggledinhisownskin.Knowingthatthereweremonsterslikethesesickfucksoutthere,doingthesethingsfortheirownamusement,andworse…gettingawaywithit.
Butlikewithallthings,knowingorsuspectingisonething,butDomhasalwaysknownthevalueofseeingtobelieve.Istandshakentomycorebytheamountofstrengthanddisciplinehehadtohavemustered,evenwiththewayheactedout.
Inhumanstrength.
WhenourwheelstouchdownonAmericansoilmerehourslater,andwe’resafelyinthecar,Imarvelatmychosenbrothers—bothofthem.
Fromorphanswithabsolutelynothingtothementheybecametothismoment.Ifeelasenseofprideforhavingwitnessedsuchamiraculoustransformation—includingtherevolutionofthewomancurrentlyatTobias’sside.Thedifferencebetweenthebeginningofthen,tothebeginninghappeningnowismind-boggling.AsIstudythembothinwaitforwhat’sabouttotranspire,TobiasunlockseyeswithCecelia,swivelinghisheadinmydirection.Afterhoursofdisconnectfromhim,he’sback,andthere’sonlyonefuckingwaytodiscernwhat’ssoclearlywritteninhiseyes.Thesamelookthatwasinhisbrothersyearsago—Vengeance.
Tyler
Hearingthestrainofmypoundingfeetonthetreadmillofmyoffice,IclickthechannelandbrowsethroughFleetMedianewsstations.
Click
“…twelvetraffickinghiveleaderswerefoundmurderedintheirhomeslastmonth,thirtyadditionalarrestshavebeenmade.Authoritieshavereportedthatoversixthousandchildrenhavebeenrecoveredinthelasttwoweeks—”
Click
“TheA-listisundercyber-attacktoday,andit’snotpretty,folks.Newevidencehasbeencirculatingthewebregardingseveralstudiomoguls,popsingers,producers,acclaimedactors,andevensportsgiantstakingpartinadisturbingritualinvolvingtheconsumptionofhumanblood.Expertswho’veanalyzedthevideosstatethatthosetakingpartbelieveitwasawaytoabsorbpower,thesacrificedonewhenthevictimswerethemostterrified.Warning,thebriefclipyou’reabouttoseeisnotatallrecommendedforsensitiveandyoungerviewers—”
Click
“Thisjustin.Twomilitaryofficialswerediscoveredtoday,havingbeengunneddownintheirhomes.Investigatorsatthescenereportedloopingvideofootageoneveryscreenoftheofficial’shouses,includingincriminatingcorrespondencebetweenthetwoofficers.Thetwomenwereunderinvestigationnearlyadecadeagowhenchargeswerebroughtagainstthemduetothediscoveryofare-routedshipmentofmilitary-gradeguns.OneofwhichwasfoundinthehandsofJoshuaBrown,thetwenty-year-oldwhowasshotdeadoutsideofaNorthCarolinaauditoriumontheFourthofJuly.NexttoJoshua’sbodywasadufflebagfilledwithmilitary-gradegunsandammunition,alongwithprintedonlinecorrespondenceofhisplansforamassshootingtotakeplacelaterthatday.Thoughthesecondsuspectedgunmanwasneverfound,shellcasingsofthesameweaponswerediscoveredduringaNorthCarolinacrimespreewhichledtothearrestofbothmilitaryofficials.Bothofficialswerechargedbutfoundnotguiltyduetoinsufficientevidence.Butinlightofinvestigators’newfindings—”
Click
“Inthelasttwomonths,numerousreportshavebeenfloodingtheairwavesinwhatofficials,governmentagencies,andmediaalikehavedeemedthemostmethodicalretributionplotinUShistory.Thecommontiestoeach,substantialandindisputableevidence,whichhasperplexedauthorities.Manyreportshavelabeledthismovementthe‘SmokingGun.’
“TheFBI,CIA,DEA,andothergovernmentagenciesarebaffledbythesurgeofvileactsandcrimesthathavebeenbroughttolightbuthavenotbeenabletoidentifyasinglesuspectinconnectiontothisphenomenalstringofvigilantejustice.Thesuspects,whotookituponthemselvestoactasinvestigatorsinadditiontojudge,jury,andexecutioner,stillremainatlarge.Theseeye-openingeventshavesincesetoffachainreactionaroundthecountry,andmanyhavecomeforthinaidingthesevigilantes—”
ClickingofftheTV,Islowthetreadmilltocooldownbeforewalkingafullminuteinsilence,hiswordsechoingthroughme.
“Youwouldthinkatleastoneofyouwouldunderstandmystruggle.”
MychestcracksinrecollectionasIabsorbthedominoeffectDomsetintomotionayearbeforehedied.
ThoughsatisfiedwithourprogresssinceweleftFrance,it’sasthoughnotanounceoftheweighthasleftme.It’snobigsurprisewhy.ImemorizedeverydetailDomleftus,alongwithhismethodicalplanstobothexposeanddisposeofthetrash.It’stheamountofplanningthatremainsthemostdisturbing.Thepainstakingdetailinwhichhelaiditallout.Theamountoftimehespentwiththisinhishead.Alone.Utterlyaloneinitall
FeelingtheburninmychestandmakingpeacewiththefactthatImayneverknowpeaceagain,Imakemywaytotheshower.
Minuteslater,IwrapatowelaroundmywaistasIpickthroughmorethanadozensuits,expertlytailoredtofitthePresident’sright-handman.Today,I’mnothim,andIwon’tbeuntilmytasklistiscomplete.Mineismuchlongerthaneveryoneelse’s—notoutofspitebutbecauseDomknewwhatpositionIwouldbeinatsomepoint.
Exhaustiontriestosneakitswayin,butalittleovertwoyearsintoMonroe’sfirstterm,ImarvelatthefactthatDom’snextgiftwillhelpusexterminateenoughinDCtowinMonroehisnextelection.AsinvisibleasPreston’sinkmightbe,he’saraventhroughandthrough.
Allowingthedaytosettlein,Iremembermybrotherforwhohewasandwhathehid.
Hissecretswerealwayskeptwiththepurposeofbeingourgateway.
Hedidn’tjustshieldusfromtheburdenofknowing.Hewasbidinghistimeforallofussothat,piecebypiece,wegoteverythingweneededtopressforwardanddoitinthemostimpactfulway.
I’mconvincednowhefelthisimminentdeathonthosestairsallthoseyearsagoandnodoubtstartedpreparingintheyearbeforeheleftus.
Whetherheknewitornot,heknewenoughandmappedourstart.
Pluckingasuitfrommycloset,Iwalkinsidemybedroomasmycellrings.“Jennings.”
“Mr.Jennings,yourcarishere.”
“Thankyou,I’llberightdown.”
Walkingoutofthehoteltenminuteslater,I’mmetbythesightofmytemporarydriverashislipsquirkup,eyesdancingwithmirth.
Clintholdsthedooropen,hisdriver’suniformlaughableashegreetsme.“Goodmorning,Mr.Jennings.”
“Cutthebullshit,”Iclip,myownlipsliftingatthesightofhim,lookingwholeandhealthycomparedtothenightIdrovehimintoanunknownfuture
“Today’sthebigday,huh?”Clintasks.
“Yeah,solet’snotkeephimwaiting.”
“Yes,sir,”hesays,smirkingasheclosesthedoorandgetsinthedriver’sseat.Twentyminuteslater,wepulluptotheairportinwait.
“Heardthenews,”Clintsayswhilemyeyesfranticallysearchtheterminalforanysignofhim.
“Yeah?”Isayasweshareasmileintherearview.
“It’sunbelievable,man,whatyouguyshaveaccomplished,”hesayswithnothingbutadmirationinhisvoice.
“Bysomeoneelse’sdesign,”Isay,straighteningmysleevebeneathmyshirtjacketasDom’swordsstrikemeagain.
“Whenwewaitforsomeonetodosomething,nooneeverfuckingshowsup.”
Justashiswordsreachme,Zachappearsoutsidetheterminal,civvieson,hishaironlyaninchthickerthanwhenIpickedhimupfromgraduatingbasic.HecracksasmileamilewidewhenIstepoutofthecar,andIheadinhisdirection.Neitherofusbreaksourstrideasweembrace.Myheartalightasweholdonalittletighterthanthenorm,andhiswhisperhitsmyear.“Hey,Dad.”
Chestroaringwiththesoundofit,Iclamphisbroadshouldersandpullbackslightly,eyesroamingoverhim.“Youlookgood.”
“Feelgood,”hesaysasClintrelieveshimofhisduffle,tossingitinthebackoftheSUV.
“Youready?”Iask.
“Beenready,”heremindsme.We’vehadafewargumentsaboutwhenhewouldgetinked,butwealwaysagreedthisdaywouldcome.Whatbetterplacetocommemoratetheoccasionthantheplacewhereitallbegan.
Threehourslater,thethreeofusstandgravesideasIscantheheadstoneslinedupjustpasttheirongate—onebelongingtomyfirstandonlylove,andtheother,mychosenbrother.Thetwoofthemweresoalikeinsomanywaysthatitwasuncanny.WaysIneverpointedout,buttheywerebothawareof.Bothofthemwereintuitiveandfueledbytheirhearts,butthoseheartswereoftenstuntedbytheirbrilliantmindandneedforindependence.Impenetrableuntiltheyweren’t,andonceyougotin,youweremadetofeelit.Iexperiencedtheloveofboththosehearts,anditwasincredible.
WeallstareforafewbeatsattheheadstonethatreadsPRINCEDECHU.Threegenerationsofbirdspayinghomagetothemanwhoirrevocablychangedeachofourlivesforthebetter.Whogaveuspurposeandmadeuspartofthemostvaluablethingthatcontinuestosurvivehisdeath—hislegacy.
Allowingtheachetohaveitswaywithme,IwatchasClintstepsforward.HepullshislatestannualsobrietychipfromhispocketbeforebendingdowntoDom’sgrave,hiswordsdriftingbacktoZachandme.
“Iwantedyoutohavethisone.”Hepushesthechipintothegroundinfrontofthegravestone.“Yousavedmylife,brother.Inmorewaysthanone.Thankyou.”
HeslowlystandsandlingersbrieflybeforeturningtoZachandme,palmingmyshoulderasZachstepsforward.Plasticwrappedaroundhisfreshink,hekneels,nolongerresemblingtheganglyboywecollectivelytookinandsheltered,andbrushessomeofthedebrisfromtheweatheringheadstone.
“I,”hisvoicewaversslightly,andIunderstandeveryshakeinsideit.It’sbeenalong,hardroadforbothofus.Zachbecameapermanentpartofmylifeattheworstimaginabletime.Atthebrinkofwar,andwhileDelphinewaslosingherbattlewithcancer.Hisfatherhadn’tbotheredlookingforhim,andIhadtopinthefuckerdownandgetpersuasiveforhimtosignfortheadoption.Evenasmyownhandtrembledalittlewhilefinalizingthepapers,IknewitwasthebestdecisionIwouldevermake.Hebecamemysonlegallyatfifteen—nowaman,afourth-generationmarine,andaraven.I’veneverbeenmoreinaweofhowthingsworkout.
“Youwereright,”ZachtellsDom.“I’mnothinglikehim,”herelayshoarsely.“DadsaysI’malotlikeyou,andallIcansaytothat…isIfuckinghopeso.”Herunsahandalongthetopofthestone.“Yougavemeafamily,andforthat,Ican’tthankyouenough,Dom.We’llbeback.”
Zachstandsandlooksoveratmewithareverentglazeinhiseyes.Ireturnhisstare,hopingheseestheprideshininginmineastheburnkeepsmemute.
ZachreadsmyexpressionandgesturestowardClint.“Let’sgivehimaminute.”
ZachandClintbothnodandtakeoffthroughthegateanddownthehill.Takingmytime,Iallowthememoriestofloodme,emotionschurningasIstareattheetcheddateofthedaysIlostthem.Itfeelsjustlikeyesterday,thenagain,alifetimeago.
HiswordskickbacktomeasIstaredownathisweatheringstone.
“Whenwewaitforsomeonetodosomething,nooneeverfuckingshowsup.”
“Ialwaysbelievedyou,”Iwhisperaseveryhaironmybodystandsonend.“Youwerethesomeonewhodidsomething—stillare,”Ichokearoundtheburninmythroat.“Ihopeyou’reseeingthis,brother.”
Dom
“Don’tyoudareleavemehere.Iwantthatdatewithyou,”Ceceliademandstearfully,ropingmebacktoherasthepast,present,andfuturecollideandintermingle.Withinthenextheartbeat,I’mblindedbyanotherflashoflightandpulledbackthrough.
Whoosh.Whoosh.
Angerandresentmentbetweentwofightingbrotherswhorefusetoturntheirbacksontheother.
Aceaselesswar.
Lovelostandfound.
“I’mrightbehindyou,Dom.”
Abatteredheartpushingaringonanewlove’sfinger.
Moregriefasapresencebrushesagainstme.
“Iseeyoufoundourbackdoor,nephew.”
Ahospitaldoor.
“Wakethefuckup,T.”
Afaithlessmanhealedbyafatherlessson.
Anintakeofababy’sfirstbreath“ItoldyouI’dgiveyoumyfirstborn,butIgavehimyournameinstead.”
Anothercrackofababy’sfirstcry…echoedbyanother,andanother
Flagswavingasmillionsgatherwithrenewedhope.
“We’rewakingghostsup,Rye.”
Alostloveretrievedonacobblestonestreet.
“Iwishyouwouldhavetakenmewithyou,butIguess,inaway,youtookusallwithyou.”
Aburstofmusic,apaintbrushdippedinred,adistantbark.
Healing.
“Jesuisdésolé.Jesuisdésolé.Jesuisvraimentdésolé.”
“Fireflies.”
Thecoronationofaqueen.
Unification.
Morepresencesbrushingagainstme,ourgoverningviewthesame.
Theclickofpoolballs.
Endlesslaughter.
Boundlesslove.
Asolidbeamoflightpiercingintoacloud-filledsky.
Along-awaitedreckoningfollowedbyanawakening.
Vengeance.
Revelation.
“Youwerethesomeonewhodidsomething—stillare.Ihopeyou’reseeingthis,brother.”
Endlessdawnsandsunrises.
Foamywavesrollingtowardcliffrockascloudsgatheraboveaturbulentsea.
“Wedidit,brother.”
Lifegivenandlifetakenaway,andeverymomentinbetween.
Iliveitall,withthem,throughthem,asthem
Whoosh.
“Ifyouleave,wewillbebrotherswhereveryougo,right,Maman?”
Whoosh.
TobiaspresseshisforeheadtomineasIrelaythroughstuntedbreathsthatthereisnoseparation—onelastsecrettotakewithme.“Frèrespourtoujours.”
Whoosh.
Cecelia’sstormengulfsmefully,sweepingmeintotheblissfulstateonlyshecouldevertakemeasmybrother’swhisperreachesme,“Mothergreetyou,Fatherkeepyou.Iloveyou,brother.”
Whoosh
“It’stimetosleep,PetitPrince.”
Whoosh.
Whoosh.
Who-osh.
Whoo
OneLastRainyDaySpotifyPlaylistPrettyPlaceChapel
DEARREADER,
Heyyou…wasthatendingalittleoutthere?Forme,itfeltfitting,butletmeprefacemyreasonforitwithalittleexplanationofwhereitstemmedfrom.
YouknowthatwomanthatDommentionsintheeighties,whoflatlinedthreetimesandwasbroughtbackwithavividrecollectionoftheafterlife?
Thatwasmymother.
Everydetailofherdescriptionoftheafterlifecamedirectlyfromhermemoryofthebrieftimeshesworeandfaithfullybelievedshevisited.Duetothesubstantialinjuriesshesustainedinthathorrificcaraccident,shewasconsideredmedicallydeadforalongperiod.However,thedoctorsrefusedtogiveuponherbecauseshehadthreeyoungdaughters—twoofwhomwereintheaccidentwithher.
Iwasoneofthem.
Igainedconsciousnessinthemiddleofthathighwayonthatsunnydayandsawthecloudyskyhoveringabovebeforeamedicpoppedintoview.Myfirstquestionwas,“Isthisheaven?”
AllIrememberwashissmile,butIcan’tatallrecallhisreply.
Ironically,duringthattime,itwasmymotherwhowastakingthatbriefjourney.Aftercomingback,shelearnedtowalk,talk,read,andwriteagain.Onceshecould,thefirstthingsheexpressedwasthatshewasnotatallhappyaboutbeingbroughtback.
Mymotherlivedanotherthirtyorsoyearsbeforecancertookherback.EveryminuteIspentwithherleadinguptoherpassing,sheneverseemedafraid.Maybeshewastryingtoprotectme,buthonestly,shewasn’tthatselfless,whichconvincedmeshewaslookingforwardtoherreturntrip.
Sincethataccident,shealwaysremainedfirminhertestamentthatanafterlifeexists,andit’sbetterthanwecouldeverimagine.Forsomeonelikeme,whofearstheinevitable,itbringsmesomecomfort.Nottomentionherdescriptionseemsprettysublime—likeaplaceIwouldn’tmindgoing.
Thatsaid,Ihopeyou’llforgivemy‘whatif’indulgence,aswetrulyhavenoideawhat’swaitingbecauseit’sasecretnoneofuswilleverbeprivytoandcanonlyfaithfullybelieveinuntilwediscoveritforourselves.Butifsuchaplacetrulyexists,Ican’twaittoseeyouallthereandfeelthatunimaginablelove,compassion,empathy,andforgivenessweseemtobeabundantlylacking.
Despitethat,there’sstillsomuchgoodleftworthfightingfor,andsomeonesarestillabundant,livingeverysingledayasatestamentofthat.I’mforevergratefulforthosepeople,andthisbookismywayofacknowledgingthem.Ifyoutookthetimetoreadanypartofthis,Ithankyoufromthebottomtothetopofmyheart.
Allmylove,
XO
Kate
Thankyou,incrediblereader,forthegiftofyourtimeandattention.IcannotexpressenoughhowgratefulIamtoyouforyourcontinuedsupport.Itisagift,andIwillcontinuetothankyouforitasoftenaspossibleandwillnevertakeasingleoneofyouforgranted.
Next,Iwanttoprofuselythankthelittlegirlwhowascoloringinthebackofthatstationwagonwithme.Kristan,youhavesavedmeineverywayimaginablethisyear.Thankyouisn’tenough,butI’llsayitanyway,thankyou,littlesister.Iloveyoudearly.
Thankyoutothethreewisewomenwhosatwithmeonthatporchforhoursandhelpedmesummonthestrengthandnervetofinishthisnovel—Amanda,Kristan,andAlta.Ifithadn’tbeenforyourencouragementandenthusiasm,thosecrucialtwenty-ninedaysbehindthekeyboardtokickthisnoveloffwouldn’thavehappened.Endof.
Ahugethankyoutomyride-or-diebestfriends,Donna,Ally,Irene,andErica.Youcontinuetoamazeandinspireme.I’msogratefultoeachofyouforwhoyouareandwhoIambecauseofyourfriendships.Youhavemyloveanddevotiontillthewheelsfalloff.
Tomybestfriendandeditor,Donna,Ican’tthankyouenoughforremindingmeofourjourneyasIwentthroughthegauntletwiththisone.“Youalwaysdothis”wasexactlywhatIneededtokeepgoing.ThankyouforansweringthoseFacetimesandbouncingtheballwithmeuntiltheweehours.YouareatrueTrésor.
Nadine,youhadmeat“Let’stalk,kid.”Thankyouforyourendlesssupportandunwaveringbeliefinme.Forbeinganamazingteacherandpartnerandall-aroundbadass.Ourstrengtheningfriendshiphaschangedmylifeforthebetterandbroughtmesomuchjoy.
TomyKLSPRESSTEAM,youknowwhoyouare,butshoutoutsneverhurt.Bex,Cassie,Donna,Marissa,Christy,andBeth,thankyouladiessomuchforbeingstrongandsteady,andforyourhardworkanddedication.I’msoverygratefultoeveryoneofyou.
ThankyoutoSaraandKristiofTheBookBar,youtwoareabsolutegeniusesandweavemagic,andI’msogratefulforyourpartnershipandfriendship.Iloveyoubothdearly.
ThankyoutoAmyofBookShelfProductionforbringingmyvisiontolifeandforyourfriendship.Iadoreyou.
ThankyouagaintoAmyQueauandStaceyBlakeforagainknockingitoutoftheparkwiththecoverdesign(Q-Design)andformat(ChampagneFormat.)
Lastbutnotatallleast,Iwanttothankmyhusband,Nick,forthelasttwentyyears,butespeciallythelasttenI’vebeenawriter.YourunconditionalloveisthefoundationonwhichIstand,andI’msorichlyblessedtocallyou,myhusband.Iloveyou,NickStewart.USATodaybestsellingauthorandTexasnative,KateStewart,livesinNorthCarolinawithherhusband,Nick.NestledwithintheBlueRidgeMountains,Katepensmessy,sexy,angst-filledcontemporaryromance,aswellasromanticcomedyanderoticsuspense.
Kate’stitle,Drive,wasnamedoneofthebestromancesof2017byTheNewYorkDailyNewsandHuffingtonPost.DrivewasalsoafinalistintheGoodreadsChoiceawardsforbestcontemporaryromanceof2017.TheRavenhoodTrilogy,consistingofFlock,Exodus,andTheFinishLine,hasbecomeaninternationalbestsellerandreaderfavorite.Herholidayrelease,ThePlightBeforeChristmas,ranked#6onAmazon’sTop100.Kate’sworkshavebeenfeaturedinUSATODAY,BuzzFeed,TheNewYorkDailyNews,HuffingtonPostandtranslatedintoadozenlanguages.
Kateisaloverofallthings’80sand’90s,especiallyJohnHughesfilmsandrap.Shedabblesalittleinphotography,canknitasimplestitchscarffornecessity,andonoccasion,doesverywellatwhiskey.
OthertitlesavailablenowbyKate
RomanticSuspense
TheRavenhoodSeries
Flock
Exodus
TheFinishLine
Lust&LiesSeries
SexualAwakenings
Excess
PredatorandPrey
TheLust&LiesBoxset:SexualAwakenings,Excess,PredatorandPrey
ContemporaryRomance
InReadingOrder
Room212
NeverMe(CompaniontoRoom212andTheReluctantRomanticSeries)
TheReluctantRomanticsSeries
TheFall
TheMind
TheHeart
TheReluctantRomanticsBoxSet:TheFall,TheHeart,TheMind
LovingtheWhiteLiar
TheBittersweetSymphony
Drive
Reverse
BittersweetMelody
TheReal
SomeoneElse’sOcean
HeartbreakWarfare
Method
RomanticDramedy
BallsinPlaySeries
AnythingbutMinor
MajorLove
SweepingtheSeriesNovella
BallsinplayBoxSet:AnythingbutMinor,MajorLove,SweepingtheSeries,TheGoldenSombrero
TheUnderdogsSeries
TheGuyontheRight
TheGuyontheLeft
TheGuyintheMiddle
TheUnderdogsBoxSet:TheGuyonTheRight,TheGuyontheLeft,TheGuyintheMiddle
Let’sstayintouch!
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