Page 153 of The Bridges I've Burned

I answered on the second ring.

“How’s my famous brother today?” Macon greeted me.

“I’m good, man. How are you?”

“Well, I had to see your ugly face on the front of a magazine while I was trying to buy eggs yesterday, so I’ve been better.”

I laughed. “Anyone ask you to sign it?”

“No, thank God. I think enough time has passed since those photos of the two of us leaked that most people have forgotten about me. It’s a good thing, too. Because if one more woman came up to me and asked to see that tattoo on my rib cage, Marin was going to kill someone.”

“That would be awkward for you,” I quipped.

“Would definitely make my job a lot harder.” He paused, and then I heard him say my name under his breath. “Marin says hi.”

“Hi, Marin.”

Another pause. More whispering.

“I’m not telling him that. Marin, fuck. I told you, I’m not getting in the middle of this. No, you aren’t either. OUCH!”

I pressed my lips together. “Everything okay?”

Macon growled. “My wife feels very strongly that I should tell you that Elena is in town.”

I had tried to ask Macon about Elena before, and he’d refused to tell me anything, saying, “If you want to know, fucking ask her yourself.”

And then he’d muttered under his breath about how we were just a bunch of idiots.

I perked up. “Why?”

“Would you fucking stop kicking me? I’ll tell him.”

“It’s the anniversary of Daniel’s death, and she decided to spend it with Marin. She, uh…she cut ties with her parents last month. Officially.”

That was a surprise. I’d always hoped she might have the courage to do it one day, but never expected it to be so soon.

Macon and I both knew how complex emotions could be when dealing with a toxic parent. It had taken me weeks to finally work up the courage to ask Macon what had happened to our own father. I was so terrified his answer wouldn’t be definitive enough for me and that I’d be too scared to ever go back to Ocracoke. But he wasn’t coming back. He’d landed himself in prison somewhere in South Carolina. He couldn’t touch us anymore.

“Is she okay?”

“Yeah, she’s good,” he answered. “I think it was harder to sever the connection with her father, obviously. He never hurt her directly, but he also never defended her either.”

“Maybe someday, he’ll figure out what he’s missing out on,” I said. “But if not, she’s better off.”

“Tell him about the?—”

“I will. Give me a second.”

“Tell me about the what?”

“He can hear everything you’re saying, babe. You might as well just tell him yourself,” Macon said to Marin, a touch of amusement in his tone.

She must have grabbed the phone because she was suddenly louder in my ear. “She didn’t just come here for Daniel. She came here to celebrate. She quit her job.”

I froze. My eyes were fixated on the New York skyline, but my mind was back on that island.

“Do something for you.”

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