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“Red, are you awake?”
No!
My sense of hearing is finely tuned as my eyes have been shut for the past three hours, refusing to open because once they do, the events of why I’m here will become real.
I don’t want to believe that my dad, who I put a bullet into, is not really dead. Nor do I want to believe that he and his drug dealer, my former “boss” Big Phil, shot a man in cold blood, ending his life like it never mattered.
But it did matter.
It matters to me.
Hemattered to me.
And because of me, he’s dead.
Hank protected me until the very end. He could have ratted me out, but he didn’t. He faced my dad head-on, proving to be more of a parent than my own biological father. So where’s the justice in him being dead while his murderers roam free?
There isn’t any.
When I jumped on a bus close to three months ago, headed for the sleepy town of South Boston, Virginia, I never imagined the harm I would cause so many people I came to care for.
Especially not the man sitting beside me.
Nothing about Quinn Berkeley is simple, and from the get-go, I knew he would change my life forever. But I never foresaw just how much so. Nor did I ever predict that his brother, Tristan, would do the same.
Tristan, who Quinn and I left unconscious and bleeding to death on his hallway floor, is the reason Quinn and I are alive.
Yes, we’re on the run from the police, as we’re both prime suspects in Hank’s murder, but we’re alive.
And we’re together.
But I don’t blame Quinn for resenting or even hating me. I mean, I’m the reason hisbrother was coughing up his own blood, thanks to a stab wound my dad and Phil inflicted on him.
I hate myself for it, and I will continue to do so for all the days of my life.
But that’s good.
All that hate and anger will fuel me to rid this earth of two assholes, ensuring they never hurt another living soul again.
I tell myself to open my eyes, as Quinn just asked me a question.
Yet my eyes remain closed.
How am I supposed to open them and face the eyes of the man whose life I have just destroyed?Because of me, Quinn’s life is one big fucked-up mess, and I can’t do anything about it.Or is there?
“I know you’re not sleeping.”
“How do you know?” I ask, cracking open an eye, only able to take him in this way.
Step by step with Quinn—I’ve learned the hard way. If I overindulge too fast, he’s proven to be hazardous to my health.
“Because I know you,” he replies plainly, his face inches from mine.His weary eyes reveal how our messed-up situation weighs heavily upon him.
“Where are we?” I ask, looking around at our unfamiliar surroundings, seeing a strip of derelict shops and lots of greenery.
“Someplace in North Carolina. Thought we could get something to eat and withdraw some cash,” he replies, muffling a yawn with the back of his hand.
“Sure.” I unbuckle my seat belt.
