The Last Harvest(66)

“What did he give you? The present … what was it?” I manage to ask, but I can hardly breathe. My chest feels tighter than an oil drum.

“Our dear ole dad told me to open it at nine o’clock sharp. Wrapped it himself. I was so excited, thinking he’d finally accepted me. I even started packing up, thinking I’d be moving into your house soon, be a real Tate, and then BOOM!” he screams. “Boom. Boom. Boom,” he runs around screaming, as he pounds his fist against the trailer and the side of his head.

“That can’t be…” I brace my hands against my knees, huffing down air. “He wouldn’t do that. He was a good man.”

Lee moves toward me, but he’s all blurry. “How can you say that when he tried to kill you, too?”

“How do you know about that? How could you possibly know about that?” My eyes are stinging with tears as I sink to the ground.

“It’s too late,” Lee says, crouching in front of me. “We’re just like Cain and Abel, you and me. Why can’t you see that? What else do I have to do to make you see the light? One of us has to die for the other to truly live.”

I can’t stop thinking about Miss Granger … how she had Lee’s picture tacked under the Tate column, and how she said, “Unless it’s not you.”

I look up at him, using all my strength to focus in on his face, and I see it now—the pale blue color of his eyes, the broad forehead, the faint cleft in his chin. Like Dad. Like me.

“Do you have it?” I grab his shoulders. “Do you have the mark?” I shake him, but he won’t answer. And all I see is red. Everything’s spinning around me, the clouds are moving way too fast. There’s a high-pitched ringing in my ears, like someone just dropped a yellow jacket nest in my skull. I can’t hear … I can’t feel … I can’t think … the only thing I know is that I need to see the mark. The upside-down U with two dots, above and below. I have to see it.

The next thing I know, he’s lying on the scorched earth, his ripped clothes strewn around him, his mangled flesh exposed to the elements. I look down at my trembling hands in disgust … and then at his body. There’s no mark, but it looks like God chewed him up and spit him back out.

I take off my jacket and cover him up.

“I’m sorry what happened to you. I’m sorry what my dad did. But I am not my father. And neither are you.”

“Don’t leave,” he says as I escape into the trees. “Things were just getting good. I’ll be waiting for you, brother,” he yells, and I pick up my pace. “We have unfinished business, you and me.”





45

I SIT on the edge of the bed of my truck, waiting for Ali to get out of practice, looking up at the sky. I remember when Jess was little, she said she wanted to be an astronaut. I laughed at her, like it was the most ridiculous thing in the world. I wish I hadn’t done that. I never see her look up anymore.

As hard as I try, I can’t stop going over everything that happened today on an endless loop. Every family has its secrets, I get that, but this is a doozy. It’s murder. I think about telling Sheriff, nipping all this in the bud, but I figure it’s Lee’s secret to tell. And my family’s been through enough.

I’m starting to think all of this is nothing more than some f*cked-up fantasy world Lee and Miss Granger cooked up together. That combined with good old-fashioned sleep deprivation. Ali told me to look into it. And it’s no joke. Lack of sleep can cause psychosis, memory impairment, and hallucinations. Check, check, and check.

The one thing I’m sure of—Lee Wiggins is crazy. I still don’t get what Miss Granger’s angle is in all this, but Lee has a legitimate bone to pick with my family. I won’t deny him that. And if he wants to try and kill me in some delusional Bible scenario, let him try. But if he makes one false move toward Jess, Noodle, Mom, or Ali, I won’t hesitate to finish what my dad started. And if that makes me a monster, too, so be it. I will protect the ones I love until my very last breath.

I spot Ali making her way across the lot. She’s wearing her practice uniform with a zip-up red hoodie, her backpack slung over one shoulder. She’s like a ray of light in all this. She said she thinks she knows where Miss Granger is getting all of her theories from and if I see it, I might be able to lay this to rest—all the worry, all the uncertainty, all the fear. God, I hope so, because I don’t know how much more of this I can take.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” I say as I stand to greet her.

She snatches the cap off my head and puts it on. “I could say the exact same thing about you.”

“You even make that ratty thing look good,” I say as I close the tailgate.

“Hey, where were you today?” She gives me a lopsided smile. “Everybody was asking about you.”

I let out a deep sigh. “Family business.”

“Sounds like we might call for a drink.” She closes the distance between us.

“Or twelve might be good.” I chuckle.

“That can definitely be arranged.” She tugs on the hem of my shirt. “So, are you ready to uncover our ancestors’ dark history? I’m afraid you’re going to be sorely disappointed.”

“You have no idea how much I need that to be true.”