Page 78 of Drifter’s Heart

“Yeah. We don’t mention him.”

“We’re gonna.”

“Fu—”

“No.” His voice is firm, calm, and soft. I stop. Look at him, and see⁠—

Just West.

I swallow. “All right. I hate this, but I’m listening for about eight seconds. One.”

“He’s the asshole, but he’s not here. We are. And hiding from him has helped you survive.”

I swallow. “Two,” I whisper, though my resolve is already cracking with a West-shaped hole right in the middle.

West strokes my cheek with his thumb, in no hurry whatsoever. He doesn’t give a shit about time or if he runs out of the seconds I’m counting that are as imaginary as his giant frog. “I get that he’s been terrifying. But we’re gonna stop that now. All of us. We’re family, Winnie. We have been for a really long time. But only if you let us be. Can we do that?”

I hiccup as the tears flow. “Y—No?”

“Does that count as a second? Do you need more time?”

I shake my head. “No.”

“So is that a yes? Can you say it?”

I nod. Shake my head. Close my eyes. “Fucking frog making me cry.”

“Yeah, beautiful. It was a sad death. But I’m glad.”

Damn that imaginary frog.

The drive into Valiant Peak is quiet. We hold a minute’s silence in respect of the frog, but it’s more than he’s worth. He gets it anyway at West’s insistence and then…

He’s gone.

All the pressure, all the fear. Somehow, by the time that I step out of the truck cab with Sally still watching rodeo videos on repeat on West’s phone, the tension that’s attempting to heal inside me, while the edges fester, corrupting and biting away at my soul for so many years is just…

Lighter.

West is there, beside me. He doesn’t touch me. He’s just there. And I appreciate that he waits for me to come to him. So I wait too. Right until Dallas greets us, a wary look on his face when he sees how quiet we are.

“Everything good?” His muted tones are deep and low. This man is a protector, and I know why Aveline and Sally both trust him. Sally doesn’t raise her head as she keeps watching the videos West gave her and walks into Dallas’s arms, still sniffling. “We ran over a really big frog. It was sad.”

His eyebrows rise sky high. “A big frog, huh?” He stares hard at West, his disbelief clear in his narrowed gaze. “Musta been a tragic incident.”

“Damn near threw us off the road. Asshole.” West scratches his chin, completely at ease with the faux lie.

I trace patterns across the back of his hand as he looks down at me. “It was.”

Dallas leads us into the house. The fake frog incident is forgotten the moment he brings out the deck of cards Sally loves so much.

After a while, I forget too.

TWENTY-FIVE

WINNIE

Saying Goodbye