Dear Enemy

Sam sighs expansively. “Yeah, I know. I know, okay. I’m a shit, and this is bad.”

“Bad? Macon could have been killed. This is beyond bad, Sam.”

“Hey! I didn’t know that lady was a stalker. She said she was press and only wanted to get a good picture.”

“And that’s okay? To sell him out to the press?”

There are times I can’t believe we were raised in the same house. How is it that I’m more like my parents and not of their blood, and Sam is so very off?

“Oh, please, Dee. Macon is famous. Having his picture taken is part of the job. They offered me good money for something he’d have to deal with anyway.” She pauses and has the grace to sound sheepish. “Or that’s supposed to be how it went.”

“Well, it didn’t. And as soon as you realized how badly you messed up, you ran instead of dealing with the consequences.”

“I never claimed to be perfect,” she says sullenly. “I know I’m a jerk here. All right?”

“And the watch?” My heart is thudding, hard and pained.

“I needed money. I panicked.”

Sure. Right. Great.

I take a deep breath, but it doesn’t work. I want to strangle her. Slowly. “You have to come back.”

“I know.” So very sullen.

“And return the watch. Please tell me you still have his mama’s watch.”

“I have it. I couldn’t . . . I didn’t sell it, all right.” Her pissy tone irks. “I’ll come back soon and fix everything.”

Somehow I doubt it. “Soon? Where are you?”

She’s silent for a second. “Stop asking, Dee. I’m not going to tell you. And that’s not why I called.”

“No?” I want to laugh, but I’m not at all amused. “Then why the hell did you call?”

“You said you were living with Macon.”

Don’t think of him naked in the tub.

“Because I am. I’m working off your debt.”

Do not think of the damn tub!

She sucks in an audible breath. “What the hell, Dee?”

“What do you mean, ‘What the hell?’ I told you I was cleaning up your mess. What did you think I meant?” A cold laugh escapes me. “That I had paid him back for a three-hundred-thousand-dollar watch? Jesus, even if I had that kind of cash, do you honestly think it’s okay for me to pay for your theft?” My voice has risen several octaves, and I find myself panting.

Sam’s voice is just as sharp. “I didn’t think you paid him, no. I thought . . . well, hell, Dee. I thought you’d do your thing and reason with him. Make him back down.”

Good God, that’s just what I tried. She knew I would. I feel a fool.

“He didn’t want to be reasoned with,” I hiss. “He was going to the police. And I had to protect Mama from that worry. You know how weak her heart is!”

Sam curses under her breath, then speaks more calmly. “I didn’t think. But you’re right. Mama wouldn’t take it well.” She sounds almost sorry. Almost.

“No shit, Sam.”

I can practically see her narrowing her eyes in a glare.

“But you didn’t need to work for him. He was bluffing.”

“I was there, Sam. He was ready to make that call.”

“He was bluffing. Macon loves Mama, as much as that man can love anybody. He wouldn’t do anything to risk her health.” She snorts. “You forget, I know him. More than anyone.”

Blanching, I fall back against the chair. My gaze goes blindly to the ocean beyond as that feeling of foolishness increases. In the prideful little corners of my mind, I always thought I knew Macon better than anyone, that I understood him on some weird, not entirely safe level. But Sam is right; she hung out with him all the time. Despite what Macon said about them not truly liking each other, they were partners in crime for their entire childhoods.

I don’t have that with Macon. I don’t even have that with Sam.

The shy, lonely, awkward girl I was returns full force. My lower lip trembles. I bite down hard. I will not cry. I haven’t all these years. I’m not about to start now. Especially for something so useless as being jealous of Sam and Macon.

Macon’s voice whispers in my head, “Delilah, you are the only person alive who truly knows me for me.”

He said it with such conviction.

She’s talking again, more persuasive now that she’s scored a direct hit. “You cannot trust him, Dee. Do you hear? He’s a professional actor and a manipulative son of a bitch.”

“I can’t pretend anymore.”

He was sincere. I’d know it if he wasn’t.

Despite my unsettled thoughts, I scoff. “That’s rich coming from you.”

“Which means I know what I’m talking about. Do you know how many times I witnessed him bullshit someone? He’d tell them exactly what they wanted to hear, and they’d fall right into his palm.”

He was Sam’s boyfriend for so long. What am I doing even thinking of taking up with Macon? It violates sister code. Ex-boyfriends are definitely off limits. Especially Macon. I was the third wheel in their relationship; most of the time, I was their enemy, the outlier in their united front of all things anti-Delilah.