Page 13 of Black Waters

There was no need to rush sneaking back out—hoping my parents were asleep—because I knew who would be sitting in the grass, hidden away, watching over the girl we cared so deeply for. So I called the girlfriend I’d practically been ignoring because of Whit. “Still awake, huh?”

Connie yawned over the phone. “Yep, but I wasn’t sitting here by my phone waiting for your call or anything.”

We both chuckled because the first ring never got to complete itself before I heard her hello.

“Good, ’cause that would be sad.”

“Oh, so sad indeed.”

I know she was teasing, but it stung a little. “Do I … do I make you sad?”

I heard her long exhale. “At times.”

“Couldn’t just tell a fib to make me feel better?”

She giggled. “I could. But you’re not much for liars.”

I grinned. “You know me well, I suppose.”

“Link?” Connie sounded scared of a possible rejection. “Can you come over?”

She had just told me I don’t like liars, yet I was about to be one. “Damn, I can’t. My dad had a new security system put in, and I forgot to get the passcode. You don’t want me waking the neighborhood, do ya?”

But the lie was worth it. Constance laughed. Her feelings were spared.

I climbed up Whitney’s dock ladder and headed to where Crash was supposed to be, but he wasn’t. My heart began racing immediately. That was until I heard, “Psst.”

I looked up and across Whit’s backyard to see Crash shimmying down the side of her house. He was coming from her balcony.

Fucking ninja.

I rolled my jealous eyes and went to the tree where my dry clothes were. As I changed, I said, “I got your text. Not a busy night in the drug industry?”

His shoulders fell as he walked to me. “Tuesdays usually aren’t. Paychecks are spent by Saturday.” He sat heavily in the grass.

Not feeling inspired by his loathsome words, I sat next to him, changing the subject by pointing to Whit’s dark room. “How’s she doing?”

“Irritated after a call from her mom but sleeping now.”

I nodded, not surprised.

“Why does Franky hate her mom so much?”

I inhaled deeply, already regretting the sorrow that comes when thinking of my Whit being mistreated. “’Cause the woman is from hell?”

Crash waited. Apparently, he wanted details.

“Not enough, huh? Okay. Mrs. Summers treats Whit like… like she’s not good enough for this damn family. Always has. I think that’s why Tim showered her with affection.” I smiled at that thought. “God, he loved her.”

“I’m glad Franky has had you all this time.”

Another statement I didn’t expect. How observant was he to know I’d watched over her before and after Tim’s death? If Tim had personally told him so, why did Crash speak as if he was supposed to have been watching over her?

“Why don’t you ask me about her brother?”

Thinking about Tim was one thing. Speaking out loud about him was a whole other realization. I grew up with him. I’d lost a role model when he was knocked violently from the pedestal I’d set him on.

“Sport, why are you gasping for air?”