Who We Are (The Seafare Chronicles 2)

“Bullshit.”

“He found Frank first. He spoke with Frank and told him he would pay for our help. That he was pissed and wanted Oliver back and that he would pay if we could help him. He saw you, you know. One time. He said he came up here to speak with Otter, not long after Oliver left. He came to the Thompsons’ house and saw you two. Saw Tyson with you. Saw the way Oliver looked at you. He said he knew. He said he knew that the only way he could ever hope to get him back is if you two ended things.”

I was seething. “Bullshit,” I snarled. “Nobody’s that fucked up.

Nobody’s that fucking melodramatic to think that they could pay someone off to break people up. That’s ridiculous. Tell me the truth.”

Her eyes flashed, almost in anger. “Frank thought it would be a good way to get some money,” she snapped at me. “The hospital bills from Isabelle were expensive, because there were complications from the birth.

We were in debt, and Frank saw it as a way out. He said it was a good idea.

And when Frank says to do something, I do it.”

I was shocked. “You’re being serious, aren’t you. You’re completely serious?”

She nodded, almost looking relieved that I seemed to get it.

“How much?”

My mother flinched again. “Bear, that doesn’t—”

“How much?”

She looked away. “Twenty-five thousand dollars.”

That’s a lot, I thought randomly at first. I tried to think if I’d ever seen that much money anywhere before and came up empty. But this was a defense mechanism that my brain tried to play, and when it hit me, when I realized what exactly she was paid for, what she was paid to do, the amount seemed inconsequential. It seemed like nothing. It was nothing.

“Let me get this straight,” I said. “You were paid twenty-five grand to come back to Seafare and attempt to break Otter and me up? And this money was paid to you by Jonah Echols?”

“Yes.”

“And you agreed to this?”

“Bear, I had a daughter to think about. I didn’t ask for her, but I wasn’t going to let her suffer just because I made mistakes.”

I snorted derisively. “That’s you, Mom of the Year.” I wondered if it would be considered premeditated if I got onto a plane with the sole intention of maiming Jonah Echols.

She looks offended. “Derrick, I know I’m not the best—”

“Shut up,” I said tiredly. “God, for once in your life, shut your fucking mouth and let me think.”

She did. It pained her, yes, but she didn’t speak.

Finally, I said, “That religion thing. How you said the Bible says and God says. Think of that all on your own?”

She shook her head slowly. “Jonah told me what I should say. You know I’ve never read the Bible. Church bores me. Who cares what a bunch of dead guys wrote millions of years ago?”

“Who cares,” I echoed, unable to keep myself from sounding like it was the stupidest thing I’d ever heard. “And you never had any intention of taking Tyson with you?”

She shrugged. “Frank wouldn’t have liked another kid in the house.

He’s already having a hard-enough time with Izzie as it is. She’s a happy baby, Der. You’d like her, I think.”

“What happens when he tells you to ditch her too? You gonna leave her somewhere by herself? Gonna walk away like she doesn’t even matter?

Maybe a letter will let her know that you’re sorry, but it’s for the best. Is that what you’re going to do?”

Julie McKenna said nothing in return. She looked down at her fingers and started to pick at the chipped red nail polish on her thumb.