Page 118 of Nowhere Good

Seth gave him nothing. Her dad towered over them again.

“Despite all that, I’ve always liked you, son. You’ve got a pair, I’ll give ya that much. None of these two chuckleheads ever stood their ground to me the way you did.”

“That’s sweet, Ron,” Seth finally said, though his voice was tired. Resigned. “I’ve always liked you too.”

“Aw, you’re makin’ me blush. I might regret puttin’ a bullet in you.” He cackled like he was having too much fun playing with his food. “S’all right, you won’t be the first to go. You did me a favor by kickin’ around town all obsessive. Makes sense now, with that history of yours, that you’d struggle to let things go. Now I get to take a page from poor Trevor’s past. The ol’ murder-suicide trick.”

“What are you talking about, man?” Seth asked.

“What, don’t you remember? I told you what Trevor’s daddy did to his poor mama. I’m afraid you’re about to do the same thing to my Claire.”

Claire could only tremble.

So, that was how they’d do it.

Seth tried to say something, but made a noise that sounded more like disbelief. His voice was strained as he said, “Ron, she’s your daughter, man, come on.”

“That’s the thing, son. She is my little girl.” When his attention fell on her, the fear was automatic. Claire looked down at her hands, buried in the grass as she held herself up. “And it does hurt me to see her go, but it’s not really her in there. It’s Celine’s disobedient DNA. Some things are skin-deep, aren’t they, Claire Bear?”

Her thoughts were too scattered to make sense, and her voice didn’t work.

She wanted to live.

But if one of them had to die, then it had to be her.

Because this was her family. Her mess. Her horror.

Seth didn’t deserve to lose his life because of her.

Yet he was the one saying, “Do what you want with me, just leave her out of it. I’m the one you need gone, right? So let’s handle this, you and me. We’ll do it your way. Whatever you want, Ron.”

“No,” Claire squeaked out, “no, I’m the one who betrayed you, Daddy, not him.”

“Claire, please,” Seth said.

“No, it has to be me.”

“Jeez, all right,” her dad said, “you’re like an old married couple. Don’t worry, you’ll both get your turn. As much fun as this is, we should get to it.” He wagged the gun at Dillon. “C’mere, Dill. Gimme the shotgun, you’ll take the Glock. The handgun’s the key here. Easiest to wipe the prints off. I’ll show you how we did Trevor.”

Dillon froze. “Wait… you want me to…?”

Her dad cackled. “Of course you’re gonna do it, she’s your woman, man. You think I had someone else snap Celine’s neck?” He pointed the gun casually at Seth. “Trevor was in the truck, by the way. Saw the whole thing. I caught Celine at the old hunting cabin my paranoid grandfather built in the woods. Turned out she’d been stashin’ cash there, plannin’ to run off an’ start a new life somewhere without ’er girls. What kind of a wife would do that? Anyway, I kept ’er body in a trunk there for years till Trevor went cuckoo and I had to move ’er. Enjoy the answers to your burning questions before you bite the dust, Detective.”

Seth said nothing. Claire couldn’t bear to look up.

“Well, Dillon? Don’t be shy. You’ll shoot Claire at point blank, right between ’er eyes. Won’t feel a thing. Then we’ll have Winslow turn it on himself. Easy as pie.”

Dillon remained in place, still holding the shotgun beside them. He looked at her dad like a confused dog.

“You don’t have to do that, Dillon,” Seth cut in. “You don’t have to do anything—”

Her dad smacked him on the forehead with the end of his gun. Claire winced. “Shut the fuck up. He’ll do what I need him to do, and you’ll watch. Dillon, do it.”

“Don’t do it, Dillon.”

The thwack of polymer on bone, the butt of the gun hitting Seth again, much harder this time. Claire let out a strangled yelp as he half-collapsed beside her, holding himself up with his palms. She wished she could wake up from this nightmare.

She wished, more than anything, that she would’ve let herself die in that cage instead of dragging Seth out here to die with her.