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“I hate you! I hate you for making me believe!” Even my shouts were half-hearted because my throat was dry and my lips had started to crack from the intense heat.
“Can’t even be mad properly,” I groaned, nearly tripping over a rock.
I looked down and sucked in a breath at the sight of the small canvas clutch with the long black strap. It was there, familiar and covered in dirt. Unable to believe it, I fell to my knees and tugged the stuck zipper until the fabric tore.
“Yes!” My phone screen was cracked, but it could still work.
It might.
With nothing to lose, I pressed the power button and felt the biggest sigh of relief when the screen lit up and the electronic notes sounded on startup. Thank goodness it was a generic prepaid phone instead of the fancy smartphones that could barely handle being dropped a few feet. I’m sure that was probably the only reason it still worked.
“Dammit,” I groaned when the low battery sound chirped as soon as the phone started up. Less than five percent of battery life remained and there was no signal. Anywhere.
I limped through the thorny brush, heading toward anything that looked like high ground so I could hopefully, maybe, make a phone call to get some help.
My ankle throbbed and the swelling had gotten worse, but I refused to look down at it, to acknowledge I had any injury that might make safety my last thought instead of my only thought. My throat was too dry to speak so I stopped railing at the world's unfairness and started acting like an adult.
My steps slowed considerably as my vision began to blur. The exhaustion caused by the heat and whatever else I had been through the night before was starting to win. My body was slowing down, my mind too.
I had to find some higher ground.
Sometime later, I reached a small patch of rocks and climbed about six feet until the digital signal icon appeared. Gingerly, I sat down with a big sigh. Now my only decision was who to call. The police had the resources to find me, but they would ask a lot of questions, and I couldn’t afford to spend more time with the law.
That left Maisie. She might hate me, but she was the only family I had left, the only person I might be able to still call for help.
The phone rang once. Twice. Three times.
The call dropped.
I knew when I was beat, had experienced it enough over the past few months to know exactly what beat looked and felt like. Every part of me ached, inside and out, and the act of sliding off the oversized boulder was too much for my ankle to handle. I laid back and let the sun overheat my skin because it was nice to feel something warm, even if it was sunburn and cancer.
My eyes drifted shut, and I knew this was it. This was where the story of Bonnie Byrne ended, after just twenty-two years on this Earth. It wasn’t how I pictured it or when, but imagining the future was just another lie that had been fed to me to keep me content. Easy to control.
If these were my last conscious moments on Earth, then I had one final act to perform. I used all of the energy I could muster to bring my hands together until my palms were clasped in a classic prayer position. I sucked in a deep breath and prepared myself for the last conversation I would ever have with Him.
I know you’re mad at me. I did everything you asked. I listened to my parents and helped the poor. I didn’t judge or covet, and I tried hard to live my life in your image, no matter hard it was for me. I tried to be the best believer I knew how to be, and still, it wasn’t enough.
It was all for nothing.
So if you are listening right now and want me to believe that you are real and love me as your child, please take me now.
Please God. If you’re there, kill me.
End this pain.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Cal
“Shit!” Banging on the keyboard never accomplished anything but increase my frustration, but, goddammit, I never felt so fucking useless in my entire life. That was saying something, considering the job my brothers and sister did to my confidence growing up.
Tracking and re-tracking Bonnie’s dropped call. It didn’t help that we were in the salon in the central part of the house with Sadie, Jasper, Virgil, Kat, and Maisie all waiting for answers to appear from thin air.
“We should have just picked it up,” Maisie said, fear and worry in her voice, but no blame.
That was fine. I blamed myself plenty. “At least now we can pinpoint where she was calling from.” So far it hadn’t worked. So far, nothing I did worked. Like I said, useless. Every time I got a connection on her phone, the damn signal dropped.
