working out is all but gone. A kiss against my head makes me feel a little better, but not enough to put an end to my truth-bomb rant. “You know I lie to myself, and then I lie some more. But when I woke up this morning, and things took the turn they did, I realized that I can’t do this anymore.”
“Well, we lost our jobs so we don’t really have a choice right now.”
An out-of-nowhere tear rolls down my cheek and Blue wipes it away with his thumb. I lean towards his touch, remembering a time when we never fought. Overall, though, I think we’ve done pretty well in that arena. This is what? Our second fight? And it’s not really a fight so much as an exhibit of my unstable emotions.
I turn to Blue. “What are you going to do?” I ask. “Are you going to kill Shane.”
“Do you really think of me as a killer?”
“No, but I don’t know a lot about anything more.”
“Under the circumstances, I’m going to let that one go.”
The most welcome relief in times of emotional turmoil is laughing. And it comes at just the right moment as a light laugh escapes my swollen throat. “Thanks, Killer Joe.”
“I don’t want to fight with you,” he says as he brushes his thumb against my cheek. “But we need to go.”
CHAPTER NINE
CHARLIE
A game of musical chairs is what this is. Blue slams his fist against the horn, causing me to jerk away from the torturous blaring. Blue and I packed everything we own—which isn’t much—in a matter of minutes. Gina and Cookie are currently upstairs, taking far too long doing what they should have been able to do in a hurry. Blue slams on the horn again. He’s getting more impatient, more agitated.
“Can you please stop honking?” I ask through a groan and rub my forehead. He smirks and shakes his head, a reminder of the thick, palpable cloud of tension that rests in the space between us. While packing, we agreed to let everything go until we’re far enough out of town to think straight. But that’s not an agreement that is easily kept. My mind still races. “You know why I said what I did, right?” I ask, without looking at him. I stare at my reflection in the passenger side mirror. It’s a haunting portrait filled with darkness.
“We agreed to not talk about it, so let’s just leave it at that.”
“It’s about everything we’ve lost.” At this point, I’m not talking to him. Rather, I’m just talking out loud. It’s the only way to separate the truth from fiction in my roaring mind. “Everything I... Everything we left behind. Dylan and your dad. I don’t know how to reconcile who we are with what we’ve lost.”
I feel him shift in his seat. I feel the burn of his gaze upon me. “My dad?” he questions.
Fuck. I pull my eyes tight, hoping to entrench the tears so I’m able to carry on this broken charade. Telling him the truth now would be devastating to our already fucked up predicament. The gates have been opened, and it’s going to be one hell of a fight to contain the truth.
“What are you talking about?” he questions again.
And I have no choice but to face him. When I do, the snakes twist around my innards, choking the life out of me. I can feel the changing tides of the color of my face. The paleness sinks in and I probably look like a ghost. Fitting.
“Can we talk about this later?”
“What are you hiding?”
I swallow a mixture of air and guilt. “Blue...”
His fingers wrap around the wheel. “Charlie...”
“I wanted to tell you for so long.”
His grip tightens. “Tell me what?”
“It’s about Rake.”
He shakes his head, the truth settling in. He knows what comes next and I have no need to continue on. A weight is lifted from my body, but I’d rather be tied to the bottom of the ocean. Anywhere but here in this Jeep. I can’t watch him break. It’ll shatter what little is left of us.
“No,” he says. The muscles in his throat are visible as they pull tight. He’s fighting to breathe, fighting to
“Well, we lost our jobs so we don’t really have a choice right now.”
An out-of-nowhere tear rolls down my cheek and Blue wipes it away with his thumb. I lean towards his touch, remembering a time when we never fought. Overall, though, I think we’ve done pretty well in that arena. This is what? Our second fight? And it’s not really a fight so much as an exhibit of my unstable emotions.
I turn to Blue. “What are you going to do?” I ask. “Are you going to kill Shane.”
“Do you really think of me as a killer?”
“No, but I don’t know a lot about anything more.”
“Under the circumstances, I’m going to let that one go.”
The most welcome relief in times of emotional turmoil is laughing. And it comes at just the right moment as a light laugh escapes my swollen throat. “Thanks, Killer Joe.”
“I don’t want to fight with you,” he says as he brushes his thumb against my cheek. “But we need to go.”
CHAPTER NINE
CHARLIE
A game of musical chairs is what this is. Blue slams his fist against the horn, causing me to jerk away from the torturous blaring. Blue and I packed everything we own—which isn’t much—in a matter of minutes. Gina and Cookie are currently upstairs, taking far too long doing what they should have been able to do in a hurry. Blue slams on the horn again. He’s getting more impatient, more agitated.
“Can you please stop honking?” I ask through a groan and rub my forehead. He smirks and shakes his head, a reminder of the thick, palpable cloud of tension that rests in the space between us. While packing, we agreed to let everything go until we’re far enough out of town to think straight. But that’s not an agreement that is easily kept. My mind still races. “You know why I said what I did, right?” I ask, without looking at him. I stare at my reflection in the passenger side mirror. It’s a haunting portrait filled with darkness.
“We agreed to not talk about it, so let’s just leave it at that.”
“It’s about everything we’ve lost.” At this point, I’m not talking to him. Rather, I’m just talking out loud. It’s the only way to separate the truth from fiction in my roaring mind. “Everything I... Everything we left behind. Dylan and your dad. I don’t know how to reconcile who we are with what we’ve lost.”
I feel him shift in his seat. I feel the burn of his gaze upon me. “My dad?” he questions.
Fuck. I pull my eyes tight, hoping to entrench the tears so I’m able to carry on this broken charade. Telling him the truth now would be devastating to our already fucked up predicament. The gates have been opened, and it’s going to be one hell of a fight to contain the truth.
“What are you talking about?” he questions again.
And I have no choice but to face him. When I do, the snakes twist around my innards, choking the life out of me. I can feel the changing tides of the color of my face. The paleness sinks in and I probably look like a ghost. Fitting.
“Can we talk about this later?”
“What are you hiding?”
I swallow a mixture of air and guilt. “Blue...”
His fingers wrap around the wheel. “Charlie...”
“I wanted to tell you for so long.”
His grip tightens. “Tell me what?”
“It’s about Rake.”
He shakes his head, the truth settling in. He knows what comes next and I have no need to continue on. A weight is lifted from my body, but I’d rather be tied to the bottom of the ocean. Anywhere but here in this Jeep. I can’t watch him break. It’ll shatter what little is left of us.
“No,” he says. The muscles in his throat are visible as they pull tight. He’s fighting to breathe, fighting to
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