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He backs off a step but orders through gritted teeth,“Get out.”
One step ahead of ya, buddy. In a handful of strides, I’m hoisting my duffel. “Oh, I’m out alright.” I secure the giant bag on my shoulder and go head-on, wagging my finger between the two of us. “You and me, this…friendship…” I form air quotes with my free hand. “I. Am.Out.”
Poor Avery. As I stride to make my grand exit, her eyes zigzag between the two of us. “Tripp.” She pivots. “Marco…”
I offer a poor attempt at a smile. This isn’t her fault, and I’ve always liked Avery.
The security system double-beeps as if it’s Tripp’s agent, tossing me on my ear.
Just before the giant wooden plane slams on my heels, I hear Avery tear into her almost-husband, reminding me of my once-partner and former friend’s broken nose this past spring.
Yeah, you go, girl.
I sincerely hope she does it to him again.
CHAPTER 14
Marco
I tear out of the Walkers’ driveway in a white-hot haze. The pealing of my tires must bring the neighbors to their windows. The guy at the four-way stop I roll is probably cussing me, but I was only rude, not dangerous, so he’ll just have to deal.
As I reach more populated areas, I’m careful of pedestrians, but I take a couple lights that are blazing orange. It’s not until miles south that I realize my knuckles and hands are crampy and white. I will my fingers to flex, and the action seems to have a corresponding effect on my right foot.
I follow the shoreline, lowering the windows and letting the salty breeze sweep through the truck. I’d like to say it cools my ire, but all my brain seems to process is that my best friend accused me of something ugly with his sister. This entire week I’ve told myself I got why he wouldn’t want me hanging with Annalise, but I’ve been lying to myself.Of courseI’m trustworthy with his sister, and frankly, every other woman. Good heavens, what does he think I would do?
We’ve worked in the pit right alongside each other for years, but I would never, ever, not for a single, solitary minute worry about my sisters in his company, not one tiny bit.
Freaking hypocrite, that’s what Tripp Walker is. No small wonder he’s got a hide-and-seek sort of dynamic with Annalise. A sibling relationship with the high and mighty Tripp Walker must be exhausting.
I’m somewhere well south of Galveston when I get thirsty.Thirstythirsty. And why shouldn’t I be? Life as I’ve known it is virtually gone. My job, my so-called friend. My home, too. I sure can’t go back there and lick my wounds. Stinking reporters. And, not to be forgotten, the clock is ticking loudly on my very freedom.
A steel-caged store with lots of flashing neon in the window comes into sight. Ah, yes. But when I pull in, the only neon sign that matters readsclosed.I swear. It’s Sunday, isn’t it?
My tastes were set on something strong, but down at the end of the block is a gas station. It’s open and selling the next best thing.
Ten minutes later I’m parked right out on the sand at a public beach, tailgate down, the six-pack of longnecks by my side.
The first swallow is fast but long, and as it flows down my throat, I feel my muscles begin to release. Another drag and the bottle is already nearly empty. As I lift the glass to my lips a third time, the slate clouds over the water register. There’s a storm coming—or going—I’m not sure which.
Who am I kidding? This is me we’re talking about. Definitely coming.
The first bottle is gone in record time.
Where did it all go wrong? One minute, I’m one of the good guys. The next, I’m on the hook for trouble that came looking forme. What, they seriously expect me to stop and ask questions of a punk drawing down on me in my own home? Look, I’m not a monster, but you walk into the wrong apartment and it’s on you, bud. I don’t care if you are still short on whiskers and can’t buy a legal drink. You wander in and pull a piece on me and I’m going to defend myself.
Lightning cuts the sky some miles off the coast. I have no idea if it’s two or twenty. The vastness of the ocean distorts my sense of distance.
I’m feeling a little like Job. He’s the guy from the Bible who lost everything, right? And when he did, his friends deserted him, too?
I have the sudden urge to hurl the empty into the surf. Better if there were a rock to shatter it.
My life is a train wreck that even I don’t want to slow to watch. A real friend would never, ever accuse a guy who was supposed to be like a brother of hurting his loved one.Anyonefor that matter. I mean, on the job, I might bend a rule, twist an arm. It’s happened. But the whole reason I do what I do is to help. Does the self-righteous Tripp Walker think he’s the only one who doesn’t like seeing innocent people hurt? Does he think he’s the only one allowed to wear a white cape?
Arrogant, self-righteous pig.
I hurl the empty into the surf, relishing the spray of water when it hits. I watch it bob, contaminating the beauty.
I curse.
