“How?” I asked with a guttural growl that had nothing to do with sadness and everything to do with fear.
Silas’s face turned into a big worry line.
“He didn’t hurt anyone,” Jersey rushed out in an attempt to reassure me. She’d known my thoughts had gone right back to the day he’d been behind the wheel of the car that had killed Ana Perez, cost me my spleen, and almost ruined Jersey’s life.
“What did happen?” I asked.
“No big surprise. He drank himself to death. His parole officer found him when he didn’t check in.” The contempt in my sister’s voice matched my own feelings.
“Why do you need to go back? It isn’t like there’s going to be anyone crying at his graveside,” I said, watching as Silas’s eyes grew wider at the darkness in my tone.
“Someone has to make the arrangements. I’m the one listed as his next of kin,” she said quietly. Jersey was always quiet, but this had an extra layer of thoughtfulness to it.
I didn’t want her to have to go back to New London to deal with it. She’d escaped. Truck had found her, married her, and brought her into the light, away from the blackness our father had cast her in. Away from a town that blamed her for her teacher’s death when she wasn’t the one who’d been behind the wheel drunk.
“Truck and Nell are going with me. Mandy and Leena are thrilled to get to see us again in such a short span of time,” she told me.
The two women who’d taken Jersey and me in when we’d needed it most had become our family when we’d had none. They’d just come out in May for my graduation, but their trip had been hectic and short.
“I want to come.” I was surprised by how much I meant it—not for Dad, but to be there for Jersey. To have a chance to see Mandy and Leena again.
“You don’t have to come,” she answered automatically, protecting me as she’d always protected me.
“I want to come,” I said again, more forcefully. “Give me your flight details, and I’ll book a ticket.”
“We haven’t bought them yet. Truck is online right now. If you’re really sure you want to come, we’ll just get one for you too.”
“I can pay for it,” I told her. I had a job in the bioengineering department as part of a work-study program. Between that and my scholarship, I’d carefully saved up a teeny-tiny nest egg.
She sighed. “Violet, we got it. Truck and I can afford to buy you a ticket.”
I knew she could because she’d come a long way since our dark days of dingy hotels and mac and cheese. Truck’s Coast Guard job might not pay a fortune, but Jersey was doing extremely well off her comic books. There was even talk of making her superhero, Viola the Jewel, into a movie or a TV show. I still hated whenever she spent an extra nickel on me when she didn’t need to.
“Violet Banner, stop overthinking this,” she demanded.
“Fine. Just let me know when to show up,” I relented.
“I’ll have Truck send over all the flight information. Let us know if you want us to pick you up on our way to the airport.”
I laughed. “Jersey, you’d literally have to drive past the airport to come and get me. I can get there myself.”
She chuckled. “You’re right. I can’t help myself.”
“I know. And I love you for it,” I said.
We hung up, and I turned to Silas who’d grown more and more agitated while he’d listened to my half of the conversation. “I guess I’m going to Connecticut for a few days.”
His eyes grew wide. The only time I ever spoke about New London was when I mentioned Mandy or Leena. It wasn’t just painful memories of a dad who hadn’t loved us that held me back. It was also the memory of a dark-haired boy with a chip on his shoulder and eyes that glowed like amber lights. A boy who had never been mine, but who I’d wanted so badly I’d almost done the same thing my father had done. I’d almost cost us our lives.
“Why? What’s going on?” Silas asked when I didn’t offer it up on my own.
“Dad died,” I said with a careless shrug. “I don’t want Jersey to deal with it alone.”
He reached for me, pulling me into a hug. “I’m so sorry, Violet.”
There was true sorrow in his voice, real loss, and it made my eyes water because I didn’t feel any of the things I should for my dad.
“At least he won’t ever hurt anyone again.” That thought filled me with more emotion than his death did. “But I am sorry it’s falling to Jersey, yet again, to clean up the mess he’s left behind.”
Silas’s arms around me tightened. He could never understand my antipathy for my father. Not when he had two bright, shiny, loving parents who’d done everything they could to make sure their son soared.
“I’ll come with you,” he said.
I shook my head. “There’s no need. Honest.”
“Your dad just died. You’re my girlfriend. I think there’s a need to be there for you,” he said gruffly.
I winced at the emotion in his words and the term girlfriend. We’d started as a date that had turned into a kiss which had slipped into something more. Now, we’d been together for almost six months, and I wasn’t even really sure how it had happened. Like we’d just slid from one thing to the next without an actual conversation about it. It wasn’t until this moment that I realized exactly what I’d done by not speaking up. I’d let him think there was a chance of a long-term “us.”
I had to do something about it now. I had to break it off before it got more serious. I had to break it off before it had a chance to harden into a permanent substance that couldn’t be removed.
Dawson
BAD REPUTATION
“An' I don't give a damn 'bout my reputation,
Never said I wanted to improve my station.”
Performed by Joan Jett and the Blackhearts
Written by Cordell / Jett
The seawater sprayed up over the side of the boat as I spun the wheel sharply. Gritty droplets landed on my face, but I didn’t dare wipe them off. Next to me, Dax swore in French, and my smile grew. He clung to the side as I dropped the hammer, flying toward the pier at a speed that would have caused most people to yell a warning. Dax didn’t breathe another word. He knew me too well.
He knew exactly how I would rein the boat in before it thudded into the wood and metal structure. He also knew there was no way in hell I was letting Demario win this race.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Angelica’s dark hair flying behind her in the wind as we passed them on the starboard side. I couldn’t spend any time relishing in the one-fingered wave she gave me.
Instead, I cut them off and slid past the buoy marking the end of the race.
I’d already throttled back and was slowing down as Dax patted me on the back.
“Putain de bordel de merde,” he said. Holy fucking freaking hell was right. “You did it. That was the closest I think we’ve ever come. Can we please not do it again?”