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She was. But she didn’t want to talk about him. “I’m more worried the cops are going to come after me.”
“For the gun thing?” Hunter shook his head. “With the earthquake mess, I’ll bet no one remembers it happened.”
She stared at the front door of her house. “I will,” she said. “I could have shot my father.”
“No, you couldn’t,” said Hunter.
He was probably right, but she turned to look at him anyway. “You didn’t think I could do it?”
He smiled, a little sadly, a little knowingly. “Becca, I’ve never doubted your resolve.” Then he leaned in, his voice a bit wry. “But your finger was never on the trigger.”
He walked her to her door, but that was it. She slid her key into the lock, and he turned to go.
“Hunter.”
He stopped, but he wasn’t looking at her. “Yeah?”
She didn’t think she could ever trust him again—but she had to know. “You and me,” she said. “How much was real?”
He turned. “Time will tell.”
Then he was in his jeep, and then he was gone.
Chris sprawled in the desk chair in Nick’s room. The moon hung low outside the window, a cloudless night. No chance of rain on the horizon. Eighteen stitches formed a crooked line along Chris’s forearm, and he wondered if he could keep the cut out of water long enough for a scar to form.
Nick was flat on his back in bed, fighting to stay awake through the painkillers they’d given him at the hospital.
Gabriel was helping the effort by sitting on the end of the bed and heckling them both.
“So, Chris,” he said, “you couldn’t make a smaller cut?”
Nick’s eyes were closed, but he smiled. “Chris asked me to bite him first.”
Gabriel gave him a disgusted look. “You are one sick bastard.”
“I was desperate.” Chris smiled, too, but then he dropped it. “Desperate people do crazy things.”
They fell silent for a long moment. Chris wondered if Nick had fallen asleep.
Chris wouldn’t be far behind. His eyelids felt heavy, but Gabriel would never let him live it down if he went to bed before ten.
Gabriel spoke into the silence, his voice weighted and quick, as if the words had to rush past his lips. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.”
“You idiot,” said Nick, his voice amused. “You did save us.”
“No,” said Gabriel. “Before. And I provoked them into calling the Guides—”
“This wasn’t your fault,” said Nick. His eyes opened to look at his twin. “Not even a little.”
“I’m glad you provoked them,” said Chris, feeling heat in his voice. “I’d do it again.”
“Hey.” Michael appeared in the doorway and leaned in. “This started way before that mess with the truck and the fertilizer, okay? None of you started it. None of you. If anyone did, it was Mom and Dad, when they made the deal in the first place.”
The sudden silence smacked Chris in the face. He just stared at Michael standing there in the doorway. So did his brothers.
It must have taken Michael by surprise, too. He looked slightly abashed. His hands dropped from the molding and he drew back. “Not too late, okay? You all need to get some sleep.”
Gabriel inhaled quickly, and Chris braced himself for words with an edge, some comment that would ramp up the tension in the house again.
