Does It Hurt? (17)

So, what am I even fighting for? If I’m not fighting to stay alive for someone else, what's the point in staying alive for myself when I don't even want to be here?

A high-pitched laugh trickles out of my throat while Kevin continues to rage. He's not real, but at this moment, I’ve never felt closer to him.

“Weren't expecting that, were you?” I point at him in a gotcha moment with the hand still holding the bottle, causing the liquid to slosh over the rim and onto the floor.

“You don't want me to kill myself because you've always wanted to be the one to do it,” I tell him.

Tears stream down my cheeks, and his image blurs from the flood.

“But I can't do it, either,” I cry. “Because if I do, it would still be because of you.”

My stomach churns, but I’m incapable of looking away as he slowly fades away. I still end up hearing the last thing he says, anyway.

We’ve been together from the very beginning, pipsqueak. I’ll never let you get away from me.



I’m dying.

Sweat glides down my forehead as I flip my most recent crime through my fingers, with “Swimming in the Moonlight” by Bad Suns playing softly on the radio.

A gold plastic rectangle with Enzo's name on it is glaring back at me. It took a week and a half, but my new credit card has been approved. This is supposed to save me, yet all I can feel is sick. Coupled with the fact that Senile Suzy’s AC is broken, and it’s hotter than the pit of a volcano in here.

Alas, it’s my home, and I've already spent the past several days in a hotel waiting for the card to come in the mail. I had just enough money left to put down a deposit for my stay, and I think I broke out in hives when I paid the bill after getting it in the mail.

Blowing out a slow breath, I wipe away a bead of perspiration that’s gearing up to drip right into my eyeball and burn the shit out of it when my phone dings; the chime letting me know an email just came through.

My heart drops, already knowing who it’s from without having to see it. Despite my brain screaming at me to just ignore it. They can’t find you. I grab the device and click on it anyway.



Come on, pipsqueak, stop lying to yourself and the rest of the world about what happened. You’re spending all this time running when you could have already faced what you’ve done to the one person who loved you most in the world.

Just… do it for Kevin.

You owe him that much.



Garrett



Fucker. Growling beneath my breath, I punch my thumb into the delete button, then sit up and turn off the van.

I’m out in the scorching sun seconds later, slamming the door shut behind me and stomping through the trees until I come out on a dirt road that’ll lead me into town.

I met Garrett after Kev joined the police academy, when we were twenty. He adopted Kevin’s nickname for me, and every time I see it, I want to claw out my eyeballs. Since I ran off, he’s been sending me emails, pleading with me to come back and ‘face what I’ve done.’ He's just another cop who believed my brother over me.

And why wouldn’t he? They’ll always believe a cop over a civilian. Even if I’m their twin sister.

I’m trudging to the bus stop in a sour mood when I spot Simon. I hadn’t even realized I was walking over here. It’s as if a switch was flipped in my body and it went on autopilot, gravitating toward my only friend in this town. There’s no one else to go to. No one else to talk to.

Instantly, a spark ignites in my chest, and I’m rushing toward him.

“Simon!” I call out, waving my hand excitedly. He waves back, a small smile tipping on his face when he spots me.

“Well, hello there, pretty lady.”

“I’ve missed you. You’ve been gone,” I tell him, taking a seat next to him. “Why?”

He chortles, the sound shaking his entire body. Simon doesn’t laugh with his mouth; he laughs with his chest.

“My ex-wife told me the same thing our whole marriage. Probably why she divorced my ass. Can’t seem to keep me in one place for very long.”

I twist my lips. “I feel you, Simon, I feel you. But I think maybe your wife should’ve just gone with you.”

He waves a hand. “Meh, the fast life ain’t for everyone. You’re just like me, kiddo, I can tell—always on the move.”

I smile and nod. “Can’t hold me down, either.”

He studies me for a second, then reaches into his pocket and pulls out a cigarette from a pack.

“You know, we’re also different. I’ve always been running to something—always searching for something that I could never find. But I suspect you’re the opposite. You’re running from something.”

My smile slips, and I reach my hand out. “Gimme that.”

He chuckles again and hands the cigarette over. I curl it between my lips and lean over, allowing Simon to light it for me.

After inhaling deeply, I ask, “How can you tell?”

He doesn’t answer until his own is lit and he’s taken a few puffs.

“You got that cornered animal look to you. Jumpy. Haunted. Like you’re gonna bite and run any second, without warning.”

I frown. Austin, the bartender, also compared me to an animal.

“Apparently, I’m not as mysterious as I thought,” I mumble, taking another drag.