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I sigh and shake my head. “Well, lucky you.”
“You can come too,” he says, catching my attention again. “If you want to, of course. No pressure.”
Is he inviting me to come live with him?
“I don’t know,” I say, still trying to think of a better option, but I’ve got none.
There’s no place for me anymore.
Not in that town. Not in my papa’s shop. Not at school. Not that motel. And definitely nowhere near the Burrells.
That ship has sailed. I’m closing that chapter for good.
Dixie Burrell must see me as the enemy now. Probably better if she does.
I don’t fucking deserve anyone’s love right now.
“I’ll get you a job at the casino. Give you a place to stay,” uncle says, winking. “C’mon, it’ll be good.”
“What about school?” I ask, still trying to salvage something of my life.
“School?” He laughs, folding his arms. “You’re a man now, Brandon. Time to act like one.”
No one has ever called me a man.
Yet I like it. It sounds like it belongs with my name.
Brandon Locklear.
A not so innocent boy … because boys don’t kill people.
Men do.
* * *
Present
That night I was forced to become a man still haunts me to this very day.
I’m not innocent, and I won’t pretend to be. Both of us deserve the unaltered, naked truth. But can we face it? Can I look myself in the eyes without the guilt staring right back at me?
I can’t.
The man in the mirror shows me the monster I truly am.
I glare at my hands as she spits more words at me. “Why? Tell me why?”
Her voice sounds wounded, laced with visceral pain that cuts me like a sharp knife.
“I can’t,” I mutter.
I know what I did was wrong. Completely and utterly vile.
But it had to be done.
I make a fist with my hands. “They deserved what was coming for them.” And I turn to face her. “And so do you.”
“What? Why? I didn’t do shit!” she yells, her eyes watery from the mere mention of her brothers. But I know she feels it too … the shame eating us up from the inside out.
“You know exactly why,” I reply through gritted teeth. “Don’t fucking ask me again.”
When she parts her lips, I show her the metallic Zippo I kept all these years. It’s still stained with blood.
“This. Remember this?” I hiss.
Her pupils dilate, and she instantly slams her lips together, swallowing. That’s it. That’s the look. The one that’s haunted me all these years.
Blame.
That’s what this is all about.
But we didn’t come here for that. Our meeting was a chance encounter, and I refuse to let it devolve into a who-did-what. She bombed my uncle’s hotel, and she should pay for it. End of.
I just haven’t figured out when, where … and how.
I tuck the Zippo back into my pocket and shake my head. “I’m going out.”
“To do what?” she asks as I march toward the door.
“None of your business,” I reply, still angry over the fact she made me confront my own sins. “Now stay here. If you even attempt to escape, I will find you, and I promise you … I won’t be merciful.”
“Oh, and what are you going to do then?” she says with a courageous voice. “Finally kill me?”
I sigh. Always the sassy girl ready to put up a fight.
But you don’t wanna mess with me. I’m the guy who knocks people out with one punch and then lights them on fire just for the fun of it.
Criminals, mostly. Never the innocent.
But she’s far from innocent …
Does she really wanna tempt me to become that twisted? To punish her like I punish those who betray their own morals?
Maybe … maybe she is yearning for me to end her quiet suffering, for me to bring her the justice she deserves. After all, I’m not the only one who did something unforgivable.
“Don’t make me hurt you, Dixie,” I say without looking at her.
“As if you could hurt me any more than you already have.”
Her words wound me in a way I didn’t think was possible anymore.
But I have to remain calm, have to fight this growing urge to jump her and do whatever I want with her. Because fuck me, if she keeps on talking, I will have to silence her, and I’ll use any means necessary, including my dick.
Instead, I open the door and step outside.
“Bye, Brandon. I’ll wait right here until you come back so we can continue where we left off,” she mumbles, quietly chuckling to herself.
She thinks she has me in a corner with the upper hand.
I’m not the one tied up and kept under lock and key by a man who can’t wait to use her for his every whim.
Without saying another word, I close the door behind me and hear her roar.
A filthy smile forms on my lips at the thought of what I could do to punish her … to ease the pain of my own suffering too.
