Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79607 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79607 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
I think about responding. I type and delete, type and delete, before deciding against it. This is how it needs to be. I smooth my hair back with both hands before dropping my head to the back of the couch. She didn’t do it. This entire week has been a daze. I haven’t had time to process anything that went down except for Briar getting hurt and my dad dying. Fucking Whitley. I should’ve known she would stoop to that level. That girl is made up of equal parts jealousy and daddy issues.
All this time, I thought Briar was lying. And she had no idea why I hated her—no idea that her own father was in on it. Fuck, there’s no going back now. I’ve put her through too much. The sound of her pleading with me not to leave haunts me every fucking day. Every hour. Every minute. I couldn’t set aside my feelings for once and just fucking be there for her.
Sound familiar? A voice in my head taunts me. The realization hits me like a goddamn freight train. I’ve turned into my father.
“Hey, fucker,” Dare barks, snapping me out of my self-loathing. “I need your help on the roof tonight. There’s a storm coming, and I have about three days to finish it. That is, unless you’ve got someplace else to be…” he trails off, in a not-so-subtle hint to deal with my life back in Cactus Heights.
“Jesus Christ, you nag worse than a chick.”
“Well, fuck. Someone has to. So, either get your ass on my roof or go home. And for fuck’s sake, take a shower. You’re starting to smell like roadkill.”
I hurl one of the couch pillows at his head, but he smacks it away. I scratch at a week’s worth of not shaving. He has a point.
“Give me twenty minutes and I’ll be up.” Dare shoots me a look I don’t care to decipher. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was disappointed with my answer.
“What?” I ask, irritated.
“Nothing,” he says, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “I just never took you for a pussy.”
“Fuck off.”
I know I need to go back. I need to bury my dad and put Cactus Heights and everyone in it behind me—once and for all.
And I will.
Just not today.
Briar
Two weeks.
Two weeks have gone by, and it feels like an eternity. I called the funeral home yesterday, and they said John wasn’t having a service, but they did get the green light to proceed with the burial. If Asher’s back, or planning on attending, I haven’t heard anything about it. My brother only knew John as the guy who beat the shit out of his best friend. Not the guy who was so overwhelmed with grief that he couldn’t function. Not the man who became a pseudo friend to me when I didn’t have anyone else. So, it’s safe to say he’s not going. Not to mention the fact that Dash still isn’t happy about us. I see it in the way his jaw hardens when Asher’s name comes up, and the hurt in his eyes when he’s faced with the reality that we both lied to him, repeatedly. Two selfish hearts, hiding and lying and sneaking, with blatant disregard to anyone else.
I thought about not going. Why should I? I barely knew John in the grand scheme of things, and it’s not like he was the best person in the world. Would Asher be upset by my presence? Is it appropriate for me to attend? All of these questions ran through my mind, but my gut kept telling me that none of that mattered. All morning, I’ve been thinking about that pigeon—the one Asher buried for me when I was a kid—and I had my answer.
With one last glance into the mirror, I take in my old black combat boots and matching knee-high stockings. My face mostly devoid of makeup. This is a day for mourning, after all. Mourning the death of the grieving father who hasn’t really been alive in years. Mourning the boy who lost both parents too soon. But most of all, I’m mourning the death of Asher and me. He abandoned me in that hospital. He broke his promise. Today is the day I bury the idea of us for good.
I tuck my wavy hair behind my ear, smooth the skirt of my simple black dress, and take a fortifying breath. The house is empty and strangely silent when I step out of my room. Dad went to stay at a hotel the first night before catching a flight back to California the next day, while Mom opted to stay with me for a few days. It was weird, but…nice, having her around. And I have a feeling I’ll be seeing more of her.