Mister Dick

“You sure you can’t stay a couple more days?” Georgia stood by my truck and didn’t bother to hide her feelings, which straddled the line between anger and hurt. Gilbraid gave me a look and shook his head as he headed to his vehicle.

“See you Friday,” he said, yanking open the door to his truck.

I didn’t bother to answer because there was still a part of me that didn’t trust the guy. Why the hell Echo had felt the need to invite him to Lyric’s event in Boston was anyone’s guess.

“I gotta hit the road,” I said, turning back to Georgia. “Bodhi’s at my place in Tennessee, and I’ve got meetings with my agent and with the label. They’re breathing down our backs, so I’ve got to make them happy and give them a listen to the new stuff.”

“So that’s it, then.” She wasn’t happy. I could see that, and it made me feel like shit. “I came here this weekend because I wanted to hang out with you. And because of Echo’s bad news. I wanted to believe you were smarter than that, but you’re just like every other man on the planet. All she has to do is look at a guy, and he’s lost. I wanted to… I thought we…”

“Georgia.” How could I say what I had to say to her without hurting her feelings? I’d learned enough by now to know the only way to be kind was to be honest. “You’re a great girl, you are.”

“Oh, right. Here we go.” She glared at me.

“You’re smart and funny and beautiful. But you and me, we’re just friends. We’ve only ever been friends. I’ve never deviated from that, and I want you to know I value our friendship.”

She made a sound close to disgust and looked away. I grabbed her by the chin and forced her to look at me because I knew I had to get it right. “I’ve never led you on or been dishonest, and I’m not going to start now. There’s always been something between me and Echo, and it took years for us to figure out how to make it work. But I think we have, and I’m not going to apologize for it.”

She yanked her head out of my grasp and took a step back. “She’s awful and spiteful, and she’ll hurt you or your family if you piss her off, without thinking twice. Do you even know what she did back then?” Her voice rose. “Do you know what she did to your mother?”

“Georgia!” We both turned as Marta walked outside. Wiping her hands furiously on a faded gray towel, she took the steps and marched toward us. “You are crossing a line.”

“Am I?” Georgia shouted. “Don’t you think he should know that Echo destroyed his mother’s life? That it was Echo who dug up those old photos of her and that married guy? Echo who paid a friend I knew to work his magic and Photoshop them so it looked like she’d screwed around on Axel? That it was Echo who lied to everyone because she was mad at Boyd and said she’d found cocaine in his mother’s purse when everyone knew that Axel was off the drugs? When everyone knew he’d forbidden any of that shit in his house? She knew he’d be livid, and he was. He kicked her out of the house and divorced her quicker than it took for Echo to set the whole thing in motion.”

I had nothing to say to this. Shocked, I looked from Georgia to Marta, and it was in Marta’s eyes I saw the truth.

“She did that?” I mean, I always thought she had a hand in their breakup because she’d behaved like a spoiled brat. But to go to those lengths? My mother’s world had been rocked that summer. I’d never seen her so upset. She’d never gotten over Axel. Never found love again. In fact, the only thing she loved was gin, weed, and an endless parade of men. She was no different than Abigail Salisbury. A dipper.

And it was Echo’s fault.

Marta sighed and tossed the tea towel over her shoulder. She was silent for a few moments and then shrugged. “She was young and impulsive and—”

“Why do you always make excuses for her?” Georgia practically screamed the words. “She’s such a bitch. Such an evil bitch.”

“No,” Marta replied with a sad smile. “She’s unloved. She’s had absent parents most of her life and no real support other than her sisters. She’s grown up never having to answer to anyone, and she’s surrounded by people who are only interested in what she can do for them. The only time she’s free to be herself is when she’s here. And yes, she’s done some awful things, but somewhere along the line, she’s turned a corner. Somewhere along the line, she’s found herself and she’s worlds away from the teenager she used to be. Those are the facts.” Marta’s eyes narrowed as she gazed at her daughter. “You, on the other hand, have had love and understanding from both your parents. And what you’ve done now is no different from what Echo did back then. But at least she had the excuse of being sixteen. You’re an adult now, Georgia. What’s your excuse for your behavior? You should be ashamed of yourself.”

Marta stepped forward until she was between me and Georgia. “Boyd. Take your time with this information. Promise me you’ll take your time.”

I needed to get the hell out of there. That was all I knew. I gave Marta a quick nod and didn’t say shit to Georgia before hopping in my truck and gunning the engine because it felt good to rev it like a redneck. I drove away from Live Oaks and cranked the tunes because I didn’t want to think about what I’d just heard. Mostly I didn’t want to think about an Echo who was the type to do something like that.

The type to destroy.

The type to be dishonest.

The type to lie.

And not because of age or immaturity. But with malicious intent to destroy someone.

I drove straight through to Tennessee. Eight hours of blank space I could never get back because my mind had shut down somewhere between Georgia’s mouth and Marta’s quiet acknowledgment. My cell had rung about five times. All the calls were from Echo. I’d hit decline, and when the sixth one came through, I picked up because the devil was hanging on my shoulder.

“Hey,” she said softly. “I called a few times and you didn’t answer. How are the roads?”

She sounded so normal. Like she was cuddled up on the seat beside me. Like she was opening her legs, inviting me in.

Come inside, Boyd. Let me lie to you again. And again.

Anger took hold, and I gripped the steering wheel so tightly, my fingers cramped. No way was I staying quiet any longer. “I knew you had something to do with the end of our parent’s marriage. But did you fabricate evidence and lie about drugs?”