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But a look at Shane’s storm-colored eyes told me that if I went ahead and trapped Shane here with me, I’d never be able to live with myself.
Even if I was already dead.
“Promise me something,” I told Shane.
“Of course—what is it?”
I took his refined, long-fingered hand in both of mine, and pressed the silver dollar into his palm. “Promise you won’t forget me.”
Shane looked down at the coin in his palm. “How could I possibly forget?” He casually flipped the coin into the air, and caught it neatly. “Ever since Heather died, everyone’s treated me with kid gloves. But not you. Even after I told you about her, you didn’t coddle me, or condescend, or treat me like some kind of needy victim. Or worse, they figure out how to use all my hangups to their own advantage. You were there for me when I—”
“Hold on, kid. Let’s get one thing straight. I’m no saint. And you’ve got nothing at all to thank me for.” I indicated the coin with a jut of my chin. “That fare was never mine. It’s yours.”
Shane met my eyes with that ironic half-smile of his. “I know.”
And then, without dropping my gaze, he held the coin out over the gray river…and let it drop.
When it hit the surface, it didn’t make a sound. Just sank into the murky water as if it had never existed at all.
That caught the boatman’s attention. He looked at Shane with smoky features roiling through a series of faces too quick for me to see. I’d figured Shane would see the same thing I did: everyone who steered his life wrong—his dealer, then the limp-dicked Nazi gym teacher, then the priest—finally coming down to no one other than himself.
But maybe not, since Shane didn’t seem bothered in the least. He held the boatman’s gaze for a long moment, then smiled and said, “I’m staying here. With Gino.” He quirked an eyebrow at me and added, “He obviously needssomeoneto watch his back.”
Without a word, the boatman flowed into position at the tiller. He gave the engine’s starter a tug, and the dentist-drill whine of the motor surrounded us. It pierced the thickening fog as the boat glided into the grayness, lingering for another moment once the craft was swallowed by the mists, until the sound, too, faded away. Shane wasn’t watching after the boat, though. He was looking at me. And eventually, I had to admit, “If you think I’m worth sticking around for, you’re sorely mistaken.”
He gave an easy shrug. “But the important thing is, it’s my mistake to make. Besides, since bottles are always washing up on shore, it stands to reason that someday we’re bound to stumble on one that’s got a few bucks inside.”
Awfully optimistic of him to think so—but given the way his mood shifted when he’d locked eyes with the boatman, I had to wonder if maybe he was now privy to an inside tip.
Huh.
If that was the case, what if we weren’t in Limbo after all—forever in-between—but something more like a trip to the big house? A stint with a beginning and, eventually, an end.
Bless me Father, for I have sinned….
Purgatory.
“C’mon, Gino.” Shane held out his hand, and I took it in mine. “I spy a few trees in the distance—maybe trees we haven’t seen before, or maybe the ones we’reintimatelyfamiliar with. Care to place a bet? We’ll need to use pebbles for our currency, at least for now, or maybe the honor system. Either way…let’s find out what our future has in store.”
I raised his hand to my lips and pressed a kiss to it. “All right, you’re on.”
And even though the gravel crunching beneath my feet was monotonous and grating, and the gray cluster of trees looked awfully familiar as we drew near, and my head felt like it was literally splitting—when I looked at Shane, and he looked back at me and smiled, I decided that maybe when Carmine Rossi dumped me….
He’d done me the biggest favor of my life.
