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Hailey looked back toward the house. “I’m going to check on JJ.”
She stepped inside with a glance backward, offering me a sad nod.
It was just Jake and me now. “I’m deploying in a week. So. I guess I’ll see you when I get back.”
Jake was silent. For the first time that day, I felt he was looking at me closer, seeing me like a brother, not as an enemy. Then he turned back to the house. “I’ll be the one to make that choice,” he said.
The door shut. I was alone again. I made my way back around the house, left the flowers and LEGOs on the front stoop.
Even when I tried to do things right, to be normal, nothing could be normal anymore. I had missed the window where it would be all right to waltz into their backyard, talk about football, JJ’s year in school. All my “thank-yous” and “sorrys” had grown too big. I bent behind the passenger side of the Lexus.
Something was cracking in my middle now, right behind my sternum, spidering through my gut.
The sobs came out in a horrible, retching sound, folding me. I remembered Hailey’s hug, the hope it held, and the heat of JJ’s small hands. It was almost too much, too much kindness, and I doubled over again, wanting to get away from this feeling. I wanted to stop trying, so I could stop failing. I wanted it to be over.
Oxy could give all that to me. OxyContin had given me a space in the world above what was actually going on, where it seemed like I was too high in the clouds for any of my actions to actually reach anyone. I could fall in and out of people’s lives, leaving no trace.
I wanted it now.
I let myself want it. I let it hit me, over and over and over, pummeling me harder than anyone’s fists ever could, the blows landing deeper than my skin, into my organs, into my nerves, my veins. I waited until it passed, and made my way around the car.
A Ford Bronco revved from down the street, squealed out from the stop sign. I thought nothing of it until it swerved, curling into a U-turn at the end of the block, and came straight for the Lexus.
My heartbeat sped. Damn it. I knew that Bronco.
I scrambled out in front of the Lexus, blocking the grill. The Bronco’s bumper screeched to a stop and tapped my waist. Johnno got out of the driver’s side, his pale white skeleton drowning in a huge Wu-Tang shirt, followed by Casper, who called himself Kaz, a bigger guy I had met a couple of times who would look like one of those pink-cheeked baby angels if he wasn’t half the size of a whale. Johnno glanced at the SUV, and lifted his shirt to scratch his stomach, revealing a handgun in his waistband. Subtle.
“Sup, Morrow?”
“Not much,” I said. My pulse was in my ears. I looked at Jake’s house, praying they wouldn’t come to the window.
“Heard you were back,” Johnno said.
“Where did you hear that?”
“I just know these things, brother.”
Kaz said, “Someone tagged you online.”
Johnno glanced daggers at him. Kaz shrugged. I thought of Frankie on his phone. He must have posted a picture, something about being on leave. Damn it, Frankie.
“We got details to discuss.” Johnno lit a Parliament, his mouth sucked back and his cheeks sharp out of his skull. Somehow he always looked like he was fifteen, eyes squinting.
“No,” I said. “Not here.”
Johnno nodded at Kaz. I wondered why, until I saw him come for me. A point-blank uppercut, knocking my jaw out of its socket, and another blow to the temple, too quick to feel any pain before I was out.
