Page 140 of The Secrets We Keep


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So many mistakes. So many failures.

“It doesn’t matter,” I muttered. “None of that matters right now.”

“I think it’d matter a hell of a lot to her.” He grinned.

“What the hell are you talking about?” I stepped forward, my face mere inches from his.

“Well, see, the thing is, I remember stuff from those days. Stuff you probably don’t.”

I tried to think back to those nights when he’d come by, looking for money and booze. They were hazy at best.

And even the hazy memories I’d tried to forget.

“You’re very chatty when you’ve been drinkin’.” He chuckled. “So very chatty.”

“I think you’ve said enough,” I told him. “If you won’t leave, then I will.”

“You think the townspeople will forgive you once they find out you’ve spilled all their secrets to the town drunk?”

I sucked in a breath.

He turned toward the crowd like he was onstage and they were his audience. “He told me all about your drug troubles, your family squabbles. Did you know our very own Billy Radcliffe is gay?”

Oh God.

My eyes snapped to the crowd.

Billy was standing there, his hand clasped over his mouth, frozen in fear.

Everyone was looking at him.

Everyone.

I’d outed my own best friend, and I didn’t even remember it.

I started to lunge for my father, but the crowd parted as Billy stormed toward the exit, his face a brutal mixture of fear and panic.

Millie quickly rushed after him.

I was going to kill my father.

“I think that’s enough, Martin,” Dean said, stepping forward, his large frame looming over him. “Go with Macon, or we’re calling the sheriff’s office.”

My dad’s gaze lingered on Dean, his eyes fixated on his crossed arms. “You know Macon blames himself for that arm of yours?”

My heart stopped, and then it started hammering in my chest.

No.

No, no, no.

How much had I told this man?

“What are you talking about?” His eyes darted from me to my father.

“He told me he let Raymond on the ferry when he shouldn’t have. Said good old Ray was probably hammered when he sank that boat right into the sea.”

“What the hell, Macon? That true?” Dean’s hard gaze fixated on me.

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