Blowing out a slow breath, I wipe away a bead of perspiration that’s gearing up to drip right into my eyeball and burn the shit out of it when my phone dings; the chime letting me know an email just came through.
My heart drops, already knowing who it’s from without having to see it. Despite my brain screaming at me to just ignore it. They can’t find you. I grab the device and click on it anyway.
Come on, pipsqueak, stop lying to yourself and the rest of the world about what happened. You’re spending all this time running when you could have already faced what you’ve done to the one person who loved you most in the world.
Just… do it for Kevin.
You owe him that much.
Garrett
Fucker. Growling beneath my breath, I punch my thumb into the delete button, then sit up and turn off the van.
I’m out in the scorching sun seconds later, slamming the door shut behind me and stomping through the trees until I come out on a dirt road that’ll lead me into town.
I met Garrett after Kev joined the police academy, when we were twenty. He adopted Kevin’s nickname for me, and every time I see it, I want to claw out my eyeballs. Since I ran off, he’s been sending me emails, pleading with me to come back and ‘face what I’ve done.’ He's just another cop who believed my brother over me.
And why wouldn’t he? They’ll always believe a cop over a civilian. Even if I’m their twin sister.
I’m trudging to the bus stop in a sour mood when I spot Simon. I hadn’t even realized I was walking over here. It’s as if a switch was flipped in my body and it went on autopilot, gravitating toward my only friend in this town. There’s no one else to go to. No one else to talk to.
Instantly, a spark ignites in my chest, and I’m rushing toward him.
“Simon!” I call out, waving my hand excitedly. He waves back, a small smile tipping on his face when he spots me.
“Well, hello there, pretty lady.”
“I’ve missed you. You’ve been gone,” I tell him, taking a seat next to him. “Why?”
He chortles, the sound shaking his entire body. Simon doesn’t laugh with his mouth; he laughs with his chest.
“My ex-wife told me the same thing our whole marriage. Probably why she divorced my ass. Can’t seem to keep me in one place for very long.”
I twist my lips. “I feel you, Simon, I feel you. But I think maybe your wife should’ve just gone with you.”
He waves a hand. “Meh, the fast life ain’t for everyone. You’re just like me, kiddo, I can tell—always on the move.”
I smile and nod. “Can’t hold me down, either.”
He studies me for a second, then reaches into his pocket and pulls out a cigarette from a pack.
“You know, we’re also different. I’ve always been running to something—always searching for something that I could never find. But I suspect you’re the opposite. You’re running from something.”
My smile slips, and I reach my hand out. “Gimme that.”
He chuckles again and hands the cigarette over. I curl it between my lips and lean over, allowing Simon to light it for me.
After inhaling deeply, I ask, “How can you tell?”
He doesn’t answer until his own is lit and he’s taken a few puffs.
“You got that cornered animal look to you. Jumpy. Haunted. Like you’re gonna bite and run any second, without warning.”
I frown. Austin, the bartender, also compared me to an animal.
“Apparently, I’m not as mysterious as I thought,” I mumble, taking another drag.
“Sweetheart, you carry your baggage like it’s the only belongings you got.”
“Ouch,” I mutter, though a grin tips up my lips. “Maybe that’s my appeal then. Everyone wants to fix the broken, right?”
“Nah,” he says. “People don’t actually care about fixing you. They just want to shape your broken pieces until they fit their standards. Smooth ’em out, make ’em less sharp, so they don’t cut so deep when they collect ’em. But you ain’t any less broken.”
“He’s a wise one,” I announce loudly, earning a few side-eye glances. “If I’m a feral dog, you’re an owl.”
Another body-shaking laugh and I feel my soul ease just a little. Simon has no interest in fixing my broken pieces, but he also smooths them out without even trying. Just a little.
“Tattoo healin’ nicely?”
My grin widens, and I show him my leg. “It’s perfect. I want another.”