He’s never approved of my obsession with finding Marcus. Although I’ve never said a word to him about the organization providing with me tips to keep him safe, he’s the only one who knows apart from Tanner that I’m actively looking for Des’s killer, and he gives me shit about it every chance he gets.
“How long are you going to pretend to work at the shop? She’s not an idiot. She’ll figure it out eventually, and trust me, if it’s not from you, you’re screwed. It’s over.”
I continue to walk, watching my back every two seconds. I don’t feel alone.
Haze, relax. It’s just your guilty conscience fucking with you.
“You don’t get it… I can’t. And even if I could, what the hell would I say? ‘Hey, babe. You know how I moved to another country with you and said it was because I love you? Well, I lied. The real reason I came with you is because I found out my sister’s killer might be here. Yes, I’ve been looking for him. For years, actually, and I never told you. But we’re fine right? You’re not mad? Cool. Thanks for understanding. Let’s get married.’”
A beat of silence.
“But you do love her, right?”
I almost laugh. That is the dumbest question I’ve heard in a while.
“Are you serious? Of course I do. More than anything. I would’ve followed her as soon as I got rid of the bastard.”
“Then take it from someone who just found out the person they trusted the most on the planet has been lying to them. You can’t keep this up, man. You have to tell her. Soon. Or if you can’t for some fucked-up reason, you have to let her go. I’m covering for you at the shop again, but she deserves better than that.” He pauses. “I got to go. I’ll hold you to that rain check.”
He hangs up.
Let her go. Like it’s that fucking easy.
I brush off the bad vides in the air when I arrive to the meeting spot. My foot squelches in something wet, sticky, and I curse when I notice I’ve stepped in something that, at first sight, looks like mud. Or is it dog shit?
Getting abandoned with a massive boner this morning and stepping in possible dog shit now? This day just keeps on getting better and better.
I scan the area, waiting for Ricky to show his emotionless, psychopath face, and spot a silhouette down the alley. He’s got his cap on, his hands in his pocket. He’s on time. For once. What’s he going to give me today? More dead ends? More threats about keeping this to myself?
I send the dumpster behind me a glare and try to forget the noise, the footsteps. But I can’t. Vic’s speech comes back to me. Not only does it come back, it also hits me where it hurts. She deserves better than that. I know what he really meant to say is She deserves better than you. He’s right. I don’t care about the consequences. She might leave me. I might lose her forever. But I’m going to do it.
Just after her birthday,
I’m going to tell her.
WINTER
“It smelled like death. I’m telling you. Don’t use whipped cream during foreplay. It smelled so bad Kendrick and I almost puked when we woke up.”
Listening to Allie go on and on about her bedroom disasters has always been entertaining for me. Until now. Turns out being related to the guy she rambles on about makes it… weird.
I try to tame my brain.
Stop, brain.
Don’t picture your cousin with whipped cream on his nipples, brain.
Let me tell you: it is hard.
“You two are unbelievable.” I slouch into the couch.
She laughs. “Says the girl who’s literally paying people so she can sleep with her boyfriend.”
“Wait, you know about that?”
“Yeah, Kendrick texted me.”
Of course he did. Nothing goes on in the apartment without Allie knowing anymore.