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Right up until we got back to my parents’ empty place. Then he smacked me across the back of the head so hard my vision stayed blurred until the next morning.
“Don’t let me catch you trying to blow yourself up again, Shep. Ever. The older you get, the more you fuck up, you fuck me over, too. Now stand up like a man.”
Miserable fuck.
Ironically, I’d wind up being a key part of fucking him over a few years later, just not the way he expected.
“I don’t have much use for comedy,” I tell her, brushing over theShepherdmoment. Hopefully she forgets. “We’re here to field test my drones, Miss Lancaster. And to find your damned otters.”
“Don’t Miss Lancaster me, Shepherd. Not after you saved me.”
Shit.
So much for forgetting.
Her expression also tells me she doesn’t believe a word I say.
If only she had a clue what was running through my head.
When you’ve lived a pitch-black comedy of a life like mine, the only humor you have left is dark and depraved.
She nods and swims back to her kayak, at least, which has floated to a stop a few feet away. I collect her paddle and mine and haul myself over as she turns the boat upright.
Annoyingly, she’s mastered climbing in on the water almost as gracefully as she does everything else.
I want to hate it.
Iwantto keep hating everything about her sunny, self-righteous little ass, and the fact that she’s here excelling at everything I’ve taught her, makingmeseem like I’m overreacting.
It feels like the sky is falling.
Or maybe I’m the one going down flat on my face.
It might explain this familiar dizzy feeling of everything spinning out of control.
I’m used to that shit.
The trouble with falling is, there’s always a hard landing.
“Thanks,” she says when I hand her the paddle again. “I appreciate what you’re doing. Even just for agreeing to this, really.”
“Whatever. It’s basic safety protocol.” I won’t meet her eyes and let them drag me down. “Now let’s get going so we’ll make some progress before dark.”
8
A Little Drama (Destiny)
I’m too stunned to breathe when it sneaks up on me.
Somehow, I’m out here having the time of my life.
I won’t lie, when Mr. Foster—Shepherd—suggested we actually go ahead with this trip, I was nervous.
Not least because it’s extremely easy for anything and everything to go wrong out here with him, practically alone.
Not that I think he’s a murderer or anything—when he’s trying to clear his name, he’s not going to dismember me and hide the parts unless Ireallygrind his gears.
But it turns out, he knows his stuff.
