Текст книги "Corrupt "

Автор книги: Penelope Douglas

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Текущая страница: 25 (всего у книги 26 страниц)

Present

WALKING INTO THE CRIST HOME, I gave Edward a small smile as he took my coat and then helped my mother with hers.

She looked so beautiful.

It had been three weeks since she’d returned from the facility in California, and although every day was like a ticking time bomb, I grew more and more relaxed as the days passed that she wouldn’t relapse.

Her A-line black dress hugged her body that no longer looked so frail, and the color in her cheeks made her seem ten years younger. She was looking more and more like the mother from my childhood every day.

I wore an ivory-colored dress that fell to the tops of my knees, and my mother had politely mentioned that it might be too tight for Thanksgiving dinner. I didn’t hesitate to let her know that Michael liked looking at my body, and I liked him looking, so there.

She blushed, and I laughed.

“Rika,” I heard Mrs. Crist call.

I looked up to see Michael’s mother strolling through the foyer, decked out and looking elegant and as usual.

“Darling, you look wonderful.” She embraced me, giving me a quick peck on the cheek.

Then she turned to my mom. “Christiane,” she said, hugging her. “Please come and stay with me. Since your house won’t be ready until next summer, I don’t see any reason why you shouldn’t be here.”

My mother pulled back and smiled. “I would love to, but right now, I’m enjoying the city so much.”

No one except Michael, Kai, Will, and me knew the real cause of the fire, and since the restoration on our house here had slowed down due to the falling temperatures, I’d brought my mother to Meridian City with me. I’d offered her the spare room in my apartment, but she wanted to give Michael and me our privacy, opting for a hotel instead.

I’d stayed with her there for a couple of weeks—to make sure she was okay—but I slowly relaxed when she started spending her time at the gym, getting her health back, and volunteering at a shelter to keep busy and meet some new people. She was eating well, sleeping even better, and surprisingly, in no hurry to return to Thunder Bay.

Eventually, though, I gave her some space and took myself back to Delcour. Much to Michael’s relief.

Not that he didn’t want me around her, but he still got antsy about my safety. He said it had to do with Damon’s unknown whereabouts, but I knew it was something else.

Since the night at the yacht over a month ago, he’d woken up in the middle of the night a few times sweating and breathing hard. He’d had nightmares about the water. About me being pulled down and him grabbing for my hand just like he had that night.

Only in his nightmares he didn’t find me. I was lost.

“Mrs. Crist, I can’t believe how busy you’ve been.” I said, looking around, amazed at the newly redecorated sitting room and all of the holiday décor splashed around the house. Garlands and wreaths hung from the walls and stairs, and I looked up, seeing Michael appear at the top of the stairs. He descended in his pressed black suit with the smallest smile curling his lips. His eyes zoned in on me, and I inhaled a deep breath, feeling my stomach flip like always.

“Well,” Mrs. Crist said, sounding sad. “I needed to stay busy.”

I tore my eyes away from Michael and met his mother’s glossy eyes that welled with tears.

Guilt washed over me. “I’m so sorry.”

Trevor was dangerous, more so than Damon because Trevor hid it so well, but I couldn’t imagine losing a child. Even one like that.

I hoped I never had to feel what she did.

But she just shook her head at me, sniffling. “Please don’t say that. Who my son was wasn’t your fault, and you’re both safe,” she said, and then looking to Michael. “I wouldn’t trade that.”

Michael stared down at her, a look of regret crossing his face.

Other than me, I was pretty sure his mother was the only woman he loved. And while his first instinct had been to protect me, his second had been to protect her. After Trevor had drowned, Will tried to talk Michael into dumping him into the ocean on the way back, so Michael wouldn’t have to deal with telling his parents that he’d killed his brother.

Michael wouldn’t even listen. He couldn’t leave his mother’s son out there. At the very least, he had to bring a body back to her, and he knew he couldn’t look at her day in and day out and lie to her.

So after we’d brought the yacht into port, we’d called the police and told them everything. How Trevor took me, lured Michael and his friends there, and nearly killed Will and me.

It was devastating, and while Mrs. Crist was thankful we were okay, she would hurt for a long time.

Mr. Crist, on the other hand, seemed more disappointed than grief-stricken. He only had one son now, and instead of the contempt with which he usually treated Michael, he began getting very involved in his life, wasting no time in shifting the hopes he had for Trevor onto Michael.

Good thing for Michael he had plenty of practice standing up to his father.

My mother and Mrs. Crist walked toward the kitchen, and Michael’s father approached, carrying a drink in his hand with a cigar between his fingers.

“I want to sit down today. We’ve got things to discuss.”

He spoke to Michael but glanced to me, his indication clear. Since I wouldn’t be marrying Trevor, his plans now included Michael.

“Things to discuss,” Michael mused, taking my hand. “You mean my future and Rika’s money? Because it’s too late. I broke the trust. Everything is in her name now.”

“You did what?” his father growled.

I grinned, letting Michael lead me away. “I’d love to sit down and discuss my future next time you’re in town,” I told Mr. Crist, letting him know I was the one in charge of my family’s business now.

There were several pieces of real estate he and my father co-owned, so I had no choice but to work with him, but I wasn’t a pawn for men to marry and govern. Now he knew.

Michael and I walked into the dining room, seeing Will and Kai standing around the table, talking with drinks in hand while their parents and several others congregated in small groups around the room.

Servers flitted in and out, carrying trays of hors d’oeuvres and refilling champagne glasses.

Kai met us halfway, closely followed by Will.

“I found Damon,” Kai told Michael right away.

“Where is he?” I asked.

“St. Petersburg.”

“Russia?” Michael said, a stunned look on his face. “What the fuck?”

Kai continued. “His parole officer came looking for him. Damon missed his check-in with him, and after tracking his passport, they found him there,” he explained. “It makes sense. That’s where his father’s people are from, so he’s on friendly ground. They’re not going to go after him, of course, but we can.”

I shook my head. “Just leave him alone.”

Michael turned his eyes on me, looking down. “I’m not waiting for him to just show up back here, Rika. He’s dangerous.”

“He won’t come back,” I stated. “He won’t want to fail a third time. Just leave him alone, and let’s move on.”

Kai and Michael studied me for a few moments, and I hoped they understood what I wasn’t saying.

There had been too much pain. Too many years and too much wasted time. We all needed to start living again.

Damon wouldn’t try to hurt me again. Another attempt after two failures would make him look pathetic. He was gone.

And since we’d found the phone from Devil’s Night right where I suspected—in Trevor’s cabin on board Pithom—and destroyed it, there was absolutely nothing holding us back anymore. It was time to start having some fun.

“So what do we do now?” Will asked.

The corner of Michael’s lips lifted. “What we’re good at, I guess. Wreaking a little fucking havoc.”

And then he jerked his chin, gesturing to the two female servers behind Kai and Will.

The guys turned around, seeing two college-age girls, dressed in black pencil skirts, white blouses, and black vests. They tried to their hide smiles, eyeing them as they lit candles and checked the table settings.

“Delay dinner for us?” Michael asked.

Kai turned back around, his chest shaking with a quiet laugh. “How long do you need?” he asked, backing away with mischief in his eyes.

“An hour.”

Kai and Will turned around with shitty-ass grins on their faces as they followed the girls and disappeared into the kitchen.

I narrowed my eyes up at Michael, confused.

“Come on.” He tugged at my hand. “I want to show you something.”

And then he pulled me along, out of the dining room.

I STEPPED OUT OF THE CAR, the leaves rustling under my heels as I pulled my ivory-colored coat tight around me and slammed the car door.

The day was clear, not a cloud in the sky as I breathed out steam and looked up, seeing the scaffolding, tarps, and small yellow bulldozers sitting around the old cathedral.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

It wasn’t being torn down, was it?

“I’m having it restored,” he answered, taking my hand and leading me inside the front doors.

I walked in, my gaze immediately shooting everywhere as I took in all the work the crew had already done.

The broken and trashed pews in the balcony were now all torn out, and all of the garbage and piles of debris around the floor were completely gone. The sanctuary and old altar had been removed, and there was now a proper door hung at the entrance of the catacombs. Tarps hung over exposed areas in the roof and walls, and a new cement foundation had been laid, clean and solid.

To the right and left, scaffolding went all the way up to the roof, and I also noticed wood framing, as if a second floor were being added.

There were no workers here, probably because it was Thanksgiving.

“Restored?” I repeated, still confused. “As what? As a church, a historical site...?”

He opened his mouth, taking in a deep breath as if he were a little apprehensive. “As a… house,” he finally answered.

“A house? I don’t understand.”

He breathed out a laugh and approached me. “I should’ve talked to you about it, but I…” He looked around. “I really wanted this, and I was hoping you’d want to live here.”

I froze.

“With me,” he added.

Live here? With him?

I mean, yeah, I was already practically living in his penthouse in the city with him right now, but I still had my apartment, and this was a house. A whole different level.

I loved the idea of turning it into a home. As strange as it might be to other people, it’s where some of my favorite memories with Michael occurred. I loved it here.

But…would this be just his place, and I’d live here? Or would it be ours? Could he send me packing any time he wanted?

Or did a house mean something more?

“So what does this mean exactly?” I inched out, my heart drumming faster.

He kept his eyes on mine and walked up to me slowly, moving forward and pushing me back. I gasped, hitting a stone column.

With amusement in his eyes, he leaned in, whispering, “Turn around.”

I hesitated, wondering what he was up to, but…

I never backed away from a challenge.

Turning around slowly, I let him take my hands and plant them on the column in front of me. Then he snaked a hand around my waist and covered my back with his chest, nuzzling my neck with his lips. I wasn’t cold anymore.

“It means that I want to keep playing,” he said, his voice deep and filled with heat. “It means that until the house is done and we’re ready to settle back here, my apartment is your apartment, my bed is yours, and my eyes are only on you.”

He kissed my neck, his hot lips sending shivers across my body.

“It means that I’m going to do my best to piss you off every chance I get, because there’s nothing hotter than you when you’re mad.” I could hear the grin in his voice.

He dipped his hand down to the inside of my thigh. “And then I’m going to do my best to remind you of how nice I am, so you can’t stop thinking about me when we’re not together.”

I sucked in a breath, feeling his fingers inch up my thigh, already making me throb.

“It means that you’re going to finish school, but I respectfully request that, when you come home, you do me before your homework,” he continued, brushing his thumb over my clit through my panties. “And it means that you’re going to have to constantly look over your shoulder for what I have up my sleeve next, because I’ll always be coming for you.”

And then his other fist came up, and I watched wide-eyed as he uncurled his fingers and a glint of sparkle appeared in front of me. I stopped breathing as he slid the ring on my left hand and continued to whisper in my ear, “And you’re going to want every second of it, because I know what you like, Rika, and I can’t live without you.”

I shook, my eyes pooling with tears as he wrapped both arms around me and held on for dear life.

“I love you,” he breathed out in my neck.

Oh, my God. I pulled my hand down, holding it with my right, as I looked at the ring.

A flood of heat hit my chest, and I stopped breathing. I know this ring.

It was a platinum band with an array of diamonds, looking almost like a snowflake. One stone sat in the middle, surrounded by ten more, with yet another circle of about 20 diamonds on the outside.

“This is one of the rings I took on Devil’s Night,” I said, my voice shaking as I looked up at him. “I thought you had returned everything.”

“I did.” He nodded. “But this one I bought.”

“Why?”

Why would he buy a ring for someone he hated? It would have been after the videos exploded online, so it didn’t make any sense.

He tightened his arms around me. “I don’t know. Maybe I couldn’t let a piece of that night go.” And then he leaned in whispering in my ear, “Or maybe somewhere down deep I always knew this day would come.”

I smiled, tears streaming down my face. It was perfect. The ring, the house, even the proposal.

He’d promised to piss me off, but he also promised to be good to me and always come for me.

But I had to wonder…would we really be able to do this? Keep up the games? The excitement? The passion?

“People don’t live like we do, Michael.” I turned my head to look at him again. “They go to movies. They cuddle in front of fires…”

“I’ll fuck you in front of a fire,” he retorted, spinning me around and smirking as I laughed.

But then he came in and leaned his lips into my forehead, speaking quietly. “Other people don’t matter to us, Rika. We don’t let their rules contain us. What we can and can’t do is irrelevant. Who’s going to stop us?”

I wrapped my arms around his neck, elation sweeping over me as I tilted my head back, staring up at the high ceiling.

“What?” he asked.

I inhaled a deep breath, my veins charged with excitement. “Our house,” I mused. “I can’t believe this is ours.” And then I met his eyes. “I love you.”

He grabbed my face and kissed me, his warmth spreading down my body. “I love you, too,” he told me. “So is that a yes then?”

I nodded. “Yes.” But then I popped my eyes wide and pulled away. “The catacombs!” I blurted out. “They’re not filling them in, are they?”

He laughed. “No. They’ll stay accessible.”

I dropped my arms and walked for the door, slipping off my coat and hanging it over the scaffolding.

“Hey, what are you doing?” he asked.

I spun around, cocking my head coyly. “You forgot to get on one knee.”

He snorted. “Well, it’s a little too late, Rika. I already proposed.”

“You can still get on your knees.” And I crooked a finger, turning back around.

“Well, the contractor said he might stop by today to do some more assessments,” he warned.

But I only grinned and shot him a challenge over my shoulder as I opened the door. “Are you tapping out?”

He shook his head, his mischievous eyes telling me everything I needed to know as he walked toward me.

He was always game.

And thanks to his tutelage, now so was I.

He’d corrupted me.

THE SMELL OF LILIES AND RAIN drifted into my nose, and I chased it, burying my face into the pillow.

Rika.

Sleep weighed heavy on my eyes, and I put out a hand, smoothing it over the sheets and searching for her next to me in bed.

But she wasn’t there.

I blinked, forcing my eyes open. Alarm set in as I turned over and propped myself up on one elbow, quickly twisting my head around to look for her.

And I immediately found her.

I relaxed, a grin lifting my lips as I watched her in the shower, the one that sat in my bedroom as a feature in my Delcour apartment.

Our apartment.

Within a month after everything had happened at the yacht, I moved her in. She slept here every night anyway, and since Will wanted to be close, we gave her apartment to him.

Kai, on the other hand, opted for distance. He bought an old Victorian on the other side of the city, and I wasn’t sure why. He could’ve had any apartment he wanted here, and I didn’t see the value in the black brick monstrosity he’d purchased that should’ve been condemned.

But for some reason, he wanted to be on his own.

Rika ran a loofah down her arms, soaping up her body, and I turned on my side, propping my head up on my hand as I watched her.

She must’ve sensed me, because she turned her head, smiling at me over her shoulder.

She placed her foot on the edge of the tub and bent over, running the loofah down her leg slowly and playfully, knowing what she was doing to me with her fake, innocent little smiles.

The rainfall shower fell over her body, but her hair wasn’t wet, since she had it tied up in a loose bun. And despite my growing erection under the sheets and the smell of her body wash filling the room, I stayed put, just watching her.

The reward for my patience would come soon enough.

Sometimes, I just had to watch her. I had to keep my eyes on her, because it was still so hard to believe that she was real. That she was here and mine.

I’d asked myself a thousand times how we got here. How we found each other and made it here.

She would say that it was Devil’s Night.

Without the events of that night, I wouldn’t have challenged her. She wouldn’t have learned how to be strong and fight back or how to own who she was and save herself.

We wouldn’t have been locked palm to palm, trying to push the other one down, and we wouldn’t have made each other the people we were now. Everything happens for a reason, she would say.

She would say that I built her. That I created a monster, and that somewhere during the blood, tears, struggle, and pain, we realized that it was love. That all sparks lead to a flame.

But what she failed to remember was…our story started long before that night.

I stand outside my new G-class, leaning back against it with my arms folded over my chest. I have shit to do and places to be, and I don’t have time for this.

Turning over my palm, I look down at my phone and the text from my mom again.

Stuck in the city, and Edward is busy. Pick up Rika from soccer practice, please? 8 p.m.

I roll my eyes and check the time on the phone. Eight-fourteen. Where the hell is she?

Kai, Will, and Damon are already at the party, and I’m late, because why? Oh, yeah. I guess being sixteen and finally getting my fucking license means playing chauffeur to thirteen-year-olds whose mothers can’t get off their drunken asses to pick them up.

Rika walks out of the soccer complex, still dressed in her red and white uniform and leg pads, and stops, seeing me standing there.

Her eyes are red as if she’s been crying, and I can tell by the way she stiffens that she’s uncomfortable.

She’s scared of me.

I hold back my smile. I kind of like how she’s always aware of me even if I would never admit it out loud.

“Why are you picking me up?” she asks softly, her hair pulled back in a ponytail with fly-aways floating around her face.

“Believe me,” I shoot out sarcastically. “I’ve got better things to do. Get in.”

And I turn around to open my door and climb in the car.

I start the engine, shifting it into gear as if I’m not going to wait for her, and I see her walk hurriedly around the front and open the passenger door, climbing in.

She puts on her seatbelt and stares at her lap, remaining silent.

She looks upset, but I don’t think it has anything to do with me.

“Why are you crying?” I demand, trying to act like I don’t care if she answers me or not.

Her chin shakes, and she puts her hand to her neck, touching the fresh scar from the accident that killed her father only a couple of months ago. “The girls were making fun of my scar,” she says quietly.

And then she turns her eyes on me, looking hurt. “Is it really that ugly?”

I look at it, feeling anger. I could get those girls to shut up.

But I push down my emotions and shrug, acting like her feelings don’t matter.

“It’s big,” I answer, pulling out of the parking lot.

She turns back around, her shoulders slumping in sadness as she drops her head.

So fucking broken.

I mean, yeah, she lost her dad recently, and her mom is caught up in her own misery and selfishness, but every time I see Rika, she looks like a feather that will blow away with the slightest breeze.

Get over it already. Crying’s not going to help.

She continues to sit quietly, so small next to me, since I’m nearly six feet now. And while Rika isn’t short, she looks like something that has melted and is about to disappear altogether.

I shake my head, checking my phone again for the time. Damn, I was late.

But then I hear a horn blow, and I pop my eyes up, seeing taillights race for me. “Shit!” I bellow, slamming on the brakes and jerking the steering wheel to the side.

Rika sucks in a breath and grabs the door as I spot a car stopped in the middle of the country road and another one swerving up ahead of me and then speeding off. I come to a screeching halt off to the side, both of our bodies pushing against our seatbelts with the sudden stop.

“Jesus,” I bark, seeing a woman kneeling in the street. “What the hell?”

The taillights of the other car grow smaller and smaller in the distance, and I look over my shoulder, not seeing any other cars coming.

Opening the door, I step out of the car, hearing Rika do the same behind me.

I walk over to the middle in the road, and as I get closer, I see what the woman is hovering over.

“I can’t believe that asshole just drove off,” she fumes, turning around to look at me.

A dog, barely alive, lies in the road, whimpering as it struggles for short, shallow breaths. There’s blood spilling out of its stomach, and I can see some of its insides.

It’s just a little guy, some kind of Spaniel, and my stomach rolls, hearing its strangled breathing.

It’s suffocating.

The prick that sped off must’ve hit it.

“Shouldn’t the kid go sit in the car?” the woman asks, looking at Rika next to me.

But I don’t spare Rika a glance. Why did everyone try to coddle her? My mother, my father, Trevor…it only weakened her.

The lady’s kids sat in her car, calling for her, and I looked down at the dog, hearing it whimper and seeing it jerk as it struggled.

“You can go ahead and go,” I tell her, gesturing to her kids in the car. “I’ll see if I can find an open vet.”

She peers up at me, looking half uncertain and half thankful. “Are you sure?” she asks, shooting her children a glance.

I nod. “Yeah, get your kids out of here.”

She stands up, gives the little dog a sad look, her eyes watering, and then she turns and gets in the car. “Thank you,” she calls.

I wait for her to leave and turn to Rika. “Go sit in the car.”

“I don’t want to.”

I narrow my eyes on her and snap, “Now.”

Her tear-filled eyes look up at me desperately, but she eventually spins around and rushes for my car.

Kneeling down, I put my hand on top of the little dog’s head, feeling his soft fur between my fingers, and stroke him gently.

His paws shake as he fights for breath, and the gargled sound in his throat is making my eyes blur and my heart pump painfully.

“It’s okay,” I say quietly, a tear spilling down my face.

Helpless. I hate being helpless.

Closing my eyes, I stroke his head and then slowly trail my hand down.

Down the back of its head, down the back of its neck…

And then I curl my fingers around its throat and squeeze as tight as I can.

It jerks, its body shaking just barely as it musters the last of its energy to fight.

But there’s barely anything left.

My body burns, every muscle tight, and I steel my jaw, trying to hold out for one more second.

Just one more second.

I squeeze my eyes shut, tears caught in my throat.

The dog spasms, and then…finally… he goes limp, the life drained out of him.

I let out a shaky breath and pull my hand away.

Fuck.

Acid bile fills my throat, and the pangs of nausea hit the back of my mouth. I heave, but I force deep breaths in and out, pushing it back down.

I slide my hands under the dog and lift him up, ready to carry him to the car, but as soon as I turn around, I stop. Rika is standing a few feet behind me, and I know she saw everything.

She looks at me like I betrayed her.

I avert my eyes, hardening myself, and walk around her, putting the dog in the back of the G-Class.

Who the fuck is she to judge me? I did what I had to do.

I grab a towel from my duffel bag, having just gotten done with basketball practice before picking up Rika, and laid the dog on it. Taking out another towel, I wipe up the small amount of blood on my hands and then lay that on top of him as well, shutting the back hatch.

Climbing back in the car, I start the engine as Rika opens up the passenger door and plops down, not saying a word to me.

I speed off, gripping the steering wheel, and her silence is as loud as my father’s insults and berating.

I did what was right. Screw you. I don’t fucking care what you think.

I breathe hard, getting angrier by the second.

“You think that the vet who put your cat to sleep a year ago is any better?” I charge, shooting her glares as I watch the road. “Huh?”

Her lips tighten, and I can see the tears pooling again. “You did it with your hands,” she cries, turning to me and yelling. “You killed him yourself, and I could never have done that!”

“And that’s why you’ll always be weak,” I throw back. “You know why most people in the world are unhappy, Rika? Because they don’t have the courage to do the one thing that will change their lives. That animal was in misery, and you were in misery watching it. Now he’s not suffering anymore.”

“I’m not weak,” she argues, but her chin trembles anyway. “And what you did didn’t make me happy. It didn’t make me feel any better.”

I smile nastily. “You think I’m bad? You think less of me? Well, guess what? I don’t give a fuck what you think! You’re a thirteen-year-old piece of baggage my family has to look after that’s going to turn into nothing but an eighteen-year-old copy of your drunk mother!”

Her eyes flood, and she looks about ready to break.

“Only you probably won’t be able to land a rich husband with that scar,” I growl.

She sucks in a breath, looking stunned. Her face cracks, and her body racks with sobs. She grabs the door handle and begins yanking and pulling it, trying to get out of the car.

“Rika!” I yell.

I’m going sixty-fucking-miles an hour!

I dart my hand over, grabbing her wrists and swerving the car off to the side, screeching to a halt.

She fumbles, unlocking the door, and jumps out, running away into the trees.

I put the car in neutral and set the parking brake, pushing open the door and jumping out.

“Get back in the car!” I yell, slamming the door shut.

She swings around. “No!”

I run after her. “Where the hell do you think you’re going? I got shit to do! I don’t have time for this!”

“I’m going to see my dad,” she calls over her shoulder. “I’ll walk home.”

“Like hell you will. Get in the damn car and stop pissing me off.”

“Leave me alone!”

I stop, fuming. The cemetery is right over the hill, but it’s pitch black outside.

I shake my head, backing away. “Fine!” I bark. “Go visit your dad, then!”

Spinning around, I storm for my car and climb in, leaving her out there.

Turning on the engine, I hesitate for a moment. It’s dark. And she’s alone.

Fuck it. If she wants to be a brat, then it isn’t my fault.

I put it into gear and speed down the road, heading straight to my house.

Leaving the car running, I hop out and walk to the garden shed, digging out a shovel and going back to my car.

My ears turn cold from the October chill, but the rest of my body is still on fire from the fight.

She looked at me just like my father always did. As if everything I do is wrong.

I bottle up what’s inside me—the anger and this need I can’t explain. Something inside of me wants to self-destruct, wants to make messes, and wants to do the things others won’t do.

I don’t want to hurt people, but the more time that passes, the more it feels like I’m trying to crawl out of my head.

I want chaos.

And I’m tired of being powerless. I’m tired of him keeping me down.

I tried to do the hard thing today. The thing no one else would do but had to be done.

And she’d looked at me just like him. Like there was something wrong with me.

Tossing the shovel in the car, I race down the driveway and make my way to the only place I can think of.

St. Killian’s.

Pulling up outside the old cathedral, I keep the headlights on and walk around to the side, starting to dig the hole. The dog hadn’t had a collar, and it can’t stay exposed long enough for me to find its owner, so I have to bury it.

And this is the one place I like, so it makes sense to do it here.

After digging the hole about two feet deep, I return to my car and open the back door, hearing notifications from my cell phone up on the front seat.

The guys are probably wondering where the hell I am.

I was supposed to go home and collect our stock of toilet paper, spray paint, and nails for some Devil’s Night pranks. The same boring shit we always do before we go get drunk at the warehouse.

I cradle the dog in my arms, leaving him wrapped in the blankets, and carry him to the hole, kneeling down and gently placing him in.

The blood had soaked through the towel, and my hand is stained red. I wipe it off on my jeans and then take the shovel again, filling in the hole.

When I’m done, I stand there, leaning on the long wooden handle of the shovel as I stare at the mound of fresh dirt.

You’re weak.

Nothing.

Stop pissing me off.

I’d said the same things to her that my father says to me. How could I do that?

She isn’t weak. She’s a kid.

I’m angry at my father, and I’m angry that she pulls at me as much as she does. Ever since we were little.