It left me aching. And Gus’ licks weren’t helping me.
Raize lifted the radio, pressing the button. “Where are you guys?”
“On the road, looking for that guy.”
“Swing by, pick us up.”
“Roger.”
“We’ll be on the driveway.”
When the truck appeared, Raize and I both hopped into the back.
As we drove up to the house, I saw the trucks had been abandoned. There were bodies splayed out over the grass. They’d been running for cover.
I watched Raize.
I couldn’t not watch Raize.
He did all of that.
I stayed on the back of the truck, holding Gus, who was almost in my lap, and I did what Raize always did to me. I continued to watch him.
I watched as Cavers went to get a large roll of plastic. He kicked to spread it out, and one by one, they dragged the bodies over. They cut the plastic, rolled them up, and put them in the back of one of the trucks. When that was done, Jake drove the other trucks away, one by one. Cavers followed and brought him back each time. After three trips, there was one truck left—the one with the bodies.
Raize had walked through the entire house by now, going room by room. When he came out, he brought some of our personal items over to the truck where I was sitting—Jake’s bag, Cavers’ coat, Cavers’ cooking knives, my book.
Cavers and Jake left again, this time taking the bodies with them.
Gus wouldn’t stop licking my arm.
Looking down, wondering about a stinging I was feeling—there was blood trickling down my arm.
I’d been shot.
When had that happened?
No matter. I still didn’t feel a thing.
By the time Cavers and Jake returned in our regular car, the smoke had started.
Raize walked out of the house. The smoke seemed to follow him. The flames were next, peeking out of the windows.
He’d set the house on fire.
That made sense. Destroy all the evidence? DNA? Something like that?
Seemed like Mafia 101: destroy any trail you might leave behind.
Cavers was the one who noticed my arm, and he shouted to Raize, who came over.
They gathered around, and Cavers prodded my injury, but I couldn’t hear what he was saying. His voice was muffled, like I was underwater. I almost preferred it this way.
I no longer wanted to know anything.
I no longer wanted to hear anything.
I was so tired. I felt like I could sleep for months, but I knew I’d never be rested. Not now.
Not anymore.
Too much killing. Too much bloodshed. Too much violence.
There was a part of me that had always been like this, I think. Since I was a kid.
I was so tired of it all.
“Gus.” Jake snapped his fingers, whistling.
I tightened my hold on my dog, but Raize came over and pried my fingers from Gus’ collar.
Raize said something to me, frowning as Gus hopped off and trotted after Jake. They went into the car and Cavers followed. When I looked down, there was a whole bandage on my arm.
When had that happened?
I was on repeat, asking the same question to myself.
Then Raize slid his arms under me and picked me up. He carried me to the front of the truck and put me inside. He locked my door before rounding the hood to get in behind the wheel.
He seemed concerned about me, and I thought back to when I’d first started working for him.
“I had a rule with myself, not to look at you,” I told him.
“Why?”
“Because I didn’t want you to kill me for it.” I started laughing, because that was funny.
Worrying someone would kill you for looking at them.
But it was true. That was the hilarity of it.
Right?
“I think I’m in shock again,” I added.
He sighed. “Yeah.”
I frowned, looking down at my lap. Movement caught my eye, and I realized we were driving. We had been driving. I was losing track of time.
“I’m really sick of this life.”
Raize didn’t answer.
But as I turned toward the window, I could’ve sworn I heard him say, “Yeah.”
27
Ash
I was on the floor, sitting outside my bedroom door. It was closed. I didn’t want to go in there, and it felt weird having these men being able to walk past, looking into where I slept. Not that they were all men. There were women, too. Police. Paramedics. Another lady was there, and she was dressed differently.
Jesus. I shouldn’t be here.
I should go downstairs, to where Brooke was. To where my dad wasn’t, but then again, that’s why they were here. That’s why that lady was here. We were underage. Both of us.
Our dad was gone, no one could get ahold of him.
I knew where he was, but it wouldn’t matter. He’d been living there every day this last year anyway. At Marco’s Bar. In the back corner, right up next to the jukebox. He liked being there. He made everyone who came over to pick out music, they had to talk to him. He was the song gate-keeper.