Cruel World(76)

“I don’t see why not,” Quinn said. “You’ll have to double check it with your mom, though.”

“Okay.” Ty wriggled deeper beneath the blanket, and his eyes drifted partially shut. His breathing became even, and Quinn was about to rise when the boy spoke again. “Are you going to leave us?”

“No, I’m not going to leave you. Not if I can help it.”

Ty seemed to consider this. “Mom doesn’t want you to leave either, not really.”

“Well, we just have to take one day at a time. My dad always told me that.” Tears rose to his eyes without warning.

“Where is your dad?”

“He’s…he’s gone.”

“My dad is too. I never met him though. Mom said maybe someday. Do you miss your dad?”

Quinn swallowed the burning lump in his throat. “Every day.”

“You’ll see him again, right?”

“I’m sure I will.”

Ty yawned again, his eyelids fluttering. “Will you stay with me until I fall asleep?”

“Of course.”

“You’ll watch for the monsters.”

It wasn’t a question. A wave of gooseflesh washed across his skin.

Quinn was going to reply, but Ty was already sleeping. He glanced at the windows, but the yard was lost to him in the darkness. He made his way to the kitchen after re-checking the front door’s lock.

Alice stood at the sink cleaning dishes with a blue rag, ebony hair pulled back in a ponytail. She didn’t look away from the task when he leaned his back against the cabinets beside her.

“He’s sleeping.”

“Good.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re washing their dishes.”

“I know. It felt like it was the least we could do for staying here.”

He moved to the fridge, pulling it open. There were a half-dozen cold beers on its top shelf. He took two of them and popped the tops off, setting one at Alice’s elbow before taking a seat at the table. She glanced at the bottle twice before drawing her hands from the sudsy water to dry them off. Quinn sipped at the beer. It was ice cold, and the carbonation burned his throat, cutting away a thirst he hadn’t known was there. Alice tipped her bottle up, chugging the drink, her slender throat bobbing. She set the mostly empty beer down and stifled a long belch behind her hand.

“Now I know where Ty gets it,” Quinn said. Alice wiped her lips and merely looked at him. “Sorry, that was an attempt at a joke.”

“I know.”

The silence spooled out between them, Alice’s eyes never leaving his face, his cheeks flush and burning. He looked around the room and then met her gaze again.

“What?”

“He’s getting attached to you.”

“He’s a great kid.”

“I don’t want him getting hurt.”

“I understand.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.” She stared at him a moment longer and then came to the table, sitting down opposite him. She turned her beer bottle in circles, her delicate fingers moving gracefully. “You said you trusted me.”

“What?”

“In the Tahoe before I rammed the truck, I asked you if you trusted me and you said yes,” Quinn said, sitting forward.

“That was in the heat of the moment.”

“So do you?”

She regarded him for a long time before spinning her bottle again.

“I guess I have to.”

He settled back in his chair and finished his beer. The room continued to darken until all he could see of her was the white skin of her face and arms.

“I thought we were all dead back there,” Alice said just as he was about to stand and leave the room for the first watch.

“I did too.”

“You know what was overwhelming, even more than the fear?” He shook his head. “All the regrets I have came rushing back in a split second, and I thought I’d never be able to fix any of them.” She laughed in her sad way. “And now I’m ashamed of it.”

“Why? Because you have regrets or that they overshadowed your fear?”

She sighed. “Both.”

“Everyone has regrets, and as far as I’m concerned, they’re the scariest thing in the world.”