Shit, you didn’t. It has one of those little red exclamation points next to it. Shit!
Ruby’s texted me a million times. I didn’t get them until now.
Claire, I’m sorry.
I’m on my way to your house right now.
I’m thirty minutes out.
I’m pulling onto your street.
Ruby won’t answer her phone. Is it dead?
Shit, shit, shit.
I’m here.
Claire leaped up, eyes wide on her phone. “Oh my god.”
“What?” Iris said, standing too. “Is it Delilah?”
“It’s Josh. He’s here.” She rushed toward the front door and flung it open just in time to see Josh bolting out of his truck, door hanging open as he jogged up the sidewalk.
“Claire,” he said, eyes wide with panic. “I’m sorry, I—”
But before he could get anything else out, Iris flew past Claire, her red hair flowing behind her like flames, and punched Josh square in the face.
* * *
BLOOD SPURTED EVERYWHERE.
“Shit!” he yelled, his hands flying to his nose. “Iris, what the hell?”
“No country for old shit boots,” Iris said, pointing a pale finger in his face.
He flinched back, hands still covering his wound. Blood seeped through his fingers and down his arms. It was like something out of a horror show, and it took Claire a second to register what the hell had actually happened and what to address first.
Finally, the blood that was starting to dapple her sidewalk took precedence, aided by Astrid handing her an old towel she kept under the kitchen sink for just these kinds of staining messes.
Claire pressed the towel to Josh’s nose, which he used to mop up most of the mess, then kept against his face to prevent any more spillage.
“What is going on?” she asked when he was more or less stable.
“Irith punthed me in the fucking nothe, that’th what’th going on,” he said, his s’s thickened by the injury.
“And I’d do it again,” Iris said.
“About time somebody did it,” Astrid said.
He glared at the both of them, but then his expression fell when he looked at Claire. He shook his head. “I didn’t leave. Not this time—I told you I wouldn’t.”
“But you did,” Claire said. “You’ve been gone for two days without any explanation, and once again, I’ve got a devastated daughter I can barely get to come out of her room.”
His eyes—as that was all Claire could see—tightened as though in pain. Then he dropped the towel, and the three women sucked in a breath. His face was smeared with now-drying blood, his nose already swelling, the space under his eyes darkened and hinting at the bruises that would soon form.
“That bad, huh?” he said.
“It suits you,” Iris said.
Claire shot her a look but couldn’t help but smile. She knew her friends were just as sick of Josh’s mind games, his unreliability, as she was. And she was done letting him get away with it.
“You can’t keep doing this,” she said. Iris and Astrid both came up next to her, each friend taking one of her hands. “In fact, this was your last chance. I’m finished. Ruby can’t take this, Josh. I can’t take this. It’s not fair, and I don’t understand why you—”
“I built a house in Winter Lake,” he said.
She blinked at him. Winter Lake was about thirty minutes northwest of Bright Falls. It was tiny, heavily wooded, and had a downtown the size of a button.
“You did what?” she asked.
“That’s where I went. I’ve been working on a few projects there these past months, and one of them . . . well, it’s mine. I had to go finish all the paperwork on Wednesday, then spent Thursday getting some things set up inside. When I was getting ready to leave on Wednesday, my phone was dead. I charged it up in my truck and sent you a text as soon as I could, but Winter Lake has shit reception—I’m going to have to change carriers when I move out there permanently—and I didn’t realize the text didn’t go through until I was on my way back today and all these texts started rushing in as soon as I hit I-5. I would’ve called Ruby while I was gone, but like I said, no signal, and I don’t have my Wi-Fi set up yet.”
She stared at him, her friends’ hands still in hers. They stood by quietly, letting her take the lead.
“Why didn’t you just tell me what you were doing?” she asked. “Before you left? All you had to do was talk to me, tell me what was going on. Hell, leave me a sticky note on my door!”