Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 74940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
“Jesus. Fuck.” I rub my hands over my hair. “Maybe we’ve run as far as we can. Do you really want to run from this? From Misty?”
“Do you really want to?” River asks.
I take the bottle and down another drink, letting the smooth whiskey coat the ache in my throat. I swallow. “No. I don’t. He never leaves my thoughts. I have lyrics upon lyrics in my head about that day. About that whole fucking week. Lyrics that will never see the light of day, that will never be set to music, because I just can’t let it out. Man, if I let it out...”
Alex clamps his hand on my shoulder. “We get it, Seb. I’ve got a whole novel inside my head about that summer. Probably the best thing I’ll never write.”
River says, “I’m not creative like you two, but every time I look at the photo of old Ernie in my wallet, I remember everything. Every fucking thing.”
We all look to Brett then. He flicks his butt on the grass and then stamps it out with his foot.
But he says nothing.
Brett never says anything emotional about that time. It’s like he’s made of steel.
River glares at him, and Alex and I exchange a glance.
This is our cue to leave. Brett and River are going to have words.
EPISODE 59
SECRET LOVE
River
I nod to Alex and Seb. “Would you two excuse us for a minute? I need to talk to Brett alone.”
“Yeah, no prob.” Alex hands me the bottle of bourbon. “You need this?”
I shake my head.
“Speak for yourself.” Brett takes the bottle. “Thanks, man.”
Once I’ve led him away from Alex and Seb, Brett turns on me with fire in his blue eyes. “The fuck, Riv? You know I’d take a bullet for you, and you’re treating me like I’m the enemy here.”
“Interesting words,” I say. “I never once said why I wanted to talk to you.”
“You think I still can’t read you like a book after all these years? You may look like the quiet and contemplative cowboy to everyone else here, but I know better. You’re angry with me, and I want to know why.”
“I’m not angry.” I take care to keep my voice even. In truth, I’m not angry.
Brett is just Brett. You don’t punish a spider for eating a fly. It’s in his nature.
It’s in Brett’s nature to be in the here and now—to enjoy his good fortune and bask in it. He doesn’t think about Jake the way Alex, Seb, and I do. To Brett, the past is the past—even as horrific as ours was. He doesn’t worry about it coming back to haunt him. In a way, it didn’t happen for him the way it happened for the rest of us—at least in his head.
One day I’m going to be so rich, this thing we’re about to do will be a distant memory. Something like a dream within a dream.
Those were Brett’s words the night before, and that’s how he thinks of all this. As if it were a dream within a dream.
More like a nightmare, but semantics.
“You think I don’t care about him.” Brett takes a swig from the bottle.
“About who?”
“Who do you think? Jake, of course. You think just because I don’t write song lyrics in my head or have some great idea for a coming-of-age novel, I don’t feel him.” He touches his heart. “I do, Riv. Maybe even more than the rest of you.”
I don’t want to do Brett a disservice. He liked Jake. In fact, he was worried about him just as I was back then. Worried about why he was so quick to agree to the crime we committed.
“I’m the one who came to you the night before,” Brett says. “Remember? We shared some beers on your porch and I asked you to tell me what was going on with Jake. That I feared if his head wasn’t in the game, something could go wrong.”
“Nothing went wrong,” I say quietly.
My words aren’t a lie. The original plan went perfectly. Wrong didn’t happen until later.
Brett shakes his head, hands me the bottle, and lights another cigarette. Brett only smokes when he’s really bugged, and I get the feeling it’s not Misty and her secrets that have him going.
“You should have told me.” Brett takes a puff on his cigarette.
“About Marnie? It wasn’t my story to tell, Brett. Jake swore me to secrecy.”
“Fucking Marnie.” Brett shakes his head. “Couldn’t mind her own damned business.”
Brett never liked Marnie much, and he made sure the rest of us knew it. He thought she was using Jake, but in truth, she was a sweetheart, and she didn't deserve her fate. “That’s not fair, Brett. She was worried about Jake.”
“And you think I wasn’t?” Brett takes another long drag on the cigarette.
“Did I say that?”
“Give me that.” He yanks the bottle of bourbon from me and takes a long drink. He hands it back to me, takes another drag on his butt. “You all think that because I don’t play a damned violin every time Jake is mentioned that I don’t care. Let me tell you something. Maybe I care more.”