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Marci’s already gotten into her old car and started the engine.
I whip out my phone and dial her number, but she declines the call.
MARCI
Sorry. Emergency at the diner. I’ll see you at home.
Angel, we should talk. I can tell something’s up.
See you at home. Everything’s fine.
I glance toward the crowd and the stage. I have to stay for questions after everyone’s done talking, but I don’t want to. I’ve worked so damn hard to get here, but it seems unimportant now.
Marci’s afraid, and I’m not going to let her pull back now that I’ve had her. I can’t.
Thirty-Five
MARCI
I’m fine.
I’m not in love. I’m fine.
I sing it over and over again in my mind. I unlock the diner, key in the alarm code on the pad and enter it. It feels different. Not like home, but like a memory of home. Like I’m looking in on a life I used to live, and it freaks me out even more.
Because this is Dad. Dad is in this diner and always will be, no matter what I put on the menu, how many alarms get installed, or, or…
“What the fuck is wrong with me?” I squeeze my hand to my forehead. “I’m losing it.”
I need space from Jesse. When I’m near him, everything is too raw and clear. He makes life seem simple when it’s not. He decides he wants to run for sheriff, and bam, he does it. He doesn’t hesitate to take risks and make changes, and I feel stuck in comparison to him.
Coffee. That’s all I need. A cup of coffee and a moment.
I head to the coffee station, but the sight of the stack of paper cups beside it makes me think of him. Because Jesse doesn’teven like coffee, but he’s been ordering it from me for literal years. Paying for a cup he won’t drink.
My pulse spikes.
The last time I experiencedfeelingsI wound up humiliated and heartbroken while I tried to raise my little brother and grieve my father. What’s scariest to me is that these feelings for Jesse? They’re more intense than anything I’ve experienced.
I fix myself the coffee, losing myself in the familiar motions of everyday life. A comfort zone that’s uncomfortable because it’s another way to hide from the past.
The diner door bangs open, the bell tinkling wildly overhead, and I fully expect Jesse to stride into the space and demand answers.
But it’s Billy instead.
My brother stumbles in and then falls to his knees. He reaches up and pulls back his hoodie. His mouth is swollen, and there’s a fresh cut over his left eye.
“Billy? What the?—?”
“He found me again,” Billy whispers. “He found me. I thought you said your cophusbandwas going to protect me too.” The word husband comes out as a hiss.
“How did this happen? When?”
“Twenty minutes ago at my place,” he whispers.
Billy’s rooming with friends in a small house on Fahrenheit Road, and I’ve wanted him to move since the day he got there. It’s not secure, and his friends come and go as they please. But he won’t live with me, because of my no alcohol, no drugs, and no strangers rule.
“Billy, that’s impossible,” I say. “Jesse’s been making sure that Jonesy can’t get to you. You met Savage, remember?”
