In Her Wake (Ten Tiny Breaths 0.5)(24)

But I haven’t seen Kacey yet.

And it’s eleven o’clock at night.

Granted she’s eighteen, but still.

Two hours later, when the porch light is shut off and I start to think she may not have left the house to begin with, a red Dodge Spirit pulls up to the curb. The sight of her long, fiery red hair as she climbs out of the passenger side lightning-fast, like she couldn’t wait to get out of the car, has me hunching into my seat.

She takes long, even strides toward the path up to her house, the hems of her jeans just barely dragging the ground.

“Hey!” a guy calls out.

Thanks to my cracked window, I hear her mutter a “f*ck off.”

A guy in ripped jeans and a chain hanging from his pocket steps out of the driver’s side. “Hey!” he hollers again.

I hold my breath as she spins on the heels of her Converse sneakers and snaps, “What?”

He lifts his arm, a jacket and a plain black backpack dangling from his fingertips. “You forgot your stuff.”

She wanders back reluctantly, holding her arms out. The streetlight casts just the right amount of light to show the white lines running along her toned arm. And the vacant stare in her watery blue eyes.

The sparkle is long gone.

“You just wanted to see me again, didn’t you?” I can only see the guy’s profile, but I don’t like the leery smile that he’s showing her. He probably has no clue that the sparkle is gone. He probably doesn’t even care.

Snatching her bag and jacket from his grip, she blows a strand of fallen hair from her face. “Look . . . what was your name again? Rick? . . . Dick?”

“Mick,” he answers dryly.

“Right, Mick. Well, clearly you were memorable.” She oozes sarcasm. With that, she turns away.

He throws his hands up. “Seriously? Is that it?”

“What! We burned through a couple of lines and a couple of condoms. To be honest, the former was more enjoyable.”

The guy honestly looks stunned. “You’re a bitch.”

My hands tighten around my steering wheel and I have to remind myself that I’m not supposed to be here.

If she’s bothered by his words, she doesn’t let on, plastering a fake, sickly sweet smile onto her lips. “Oh, I’m sorry. Are you in love with me now? Do you want to hold hands and talk about our future? Should we meet your parents? You can’t meet mine, sorry. Though I’m sure they wouldn’t approve of you, anyways. How about china patterns for the wedding?”

The guy stares at her like she’s lost her mind.

“You should probably get in your car and drive away now.” She turns toward the house again.

“I know what happened to you.”

“You don’t know shit,” she throws back.

“Look, I’m sorry. Maybe next time we can go out and, I don’t know . . .” He scratches the back of his head. “See a movie or something.” I don’t know if the guy’s an ass**le or not. If he’s doing lines and then screwing around with her, he’s definitely not a real catch. But right now he seems to be trying to appeal to her softer side.

“I’m not interested in movies or dinner or long walks on the beach. I’m not interested in friends. I’m not interested in getting to know you, or anyone else. And I sure as hell don’t want to talk. So do me a favor, and get into your little car and drive away. Forget about me. I’ve already forgotten about you.” She disappears into the house, the storm door slapping noisily against the frame.

Leaving me staring at the back of the Dodge Spirit, the hollowness inside me somehow growing. This isn’t the real her. It can’t be.

“Is there a reason you’re sitting out here?” a voice beside my window asks, startling me enough that I jump. Shit. I didn’t even notice the middle-aged man walking on the sidewalk and now he’s staring at me, his eyes full of suspicion. A Great Dane tugs at his arm, wanting to continue on its walk.

I hold up my phone. “Had to take a call. Turned out to be a bad one and I needed to get my bearings.”

The man’s face softens. “Got it. Sorry, just noticed you here on my way out and, you know, we keep an eye on the neighborhood.”

“Of course. Didn’t mean to scare you.” I crank the engine. He continues on his late-night dog walk, and I pull away.

Meanwhile, Kacey’s completely lost.

Chapter 13

April 25, 2010

The puck sails into the net with fifteen seconds left in the second period, sending the stadium into a frenzy.

My dad slaps my back—just like he always does when the team we’re cheering for scores a goal. Except this time, we’re at Madison Square Garden, watching the game live. “I’m going to run to the restroom before the intermission.”

I watch him weave his way up the concrete steps, noticing that the gray at his temples has spread. The last two years seem to have aged him faster than the ten before.

“He arm-wrestled Tesky in my office for your tickets,” one of my dad’s firm partners, Rolans, calls out from beside me.

“Was he in his suit?” A mental image of my dad, fists locked with the law firm’s token partner—a seventy-five-year-old man who no longer takes cases and simply “counsels” and collects earnings—makes me smirk.