Page 52 of Deceit

Then I flick my Zippo and pull out the travel-sized aerosol can of hairspray that I keep with me in case of emergencies.

Mac is so preoccupied with the scraping of his flesh that he doesn’t notice me.

Kyson’s gold eyes meet mine, and he nods, quickly stepping away before I spray the can on Mac’s clothes, then swipe the flame underneath to create a homemade torch.

Fire roars in the air as Mac’s clothing sets into the reds and yellows of heat.

I circle him, making sure he’s cased in it. Kyson makes his way to the truck to check on Cam while I finish this shit.

I empty the can, all together getting Mac’s face in the process. I listen to his screams of agony and cries as his skin begins to melt like my father’s did while his only son watched and heard them for months afterward.

No one cared.

No one had the balls to come out of their trailer to stop the Three Terrors, as they called themselves.

Well, I just eliminated one.

I received a random call from the St. Anne’s hospital that my ex-girlfriend, Camilla, almost overdosed.

It wasn’t what totally pissed me off. I found out that Emmy split in the middle of the night, causing my morning to be filled with a mixture of both bitterness and repentance.

Two fucking things I don’t need right now, but they’re there, and I’m left with nothing but to face them.

I haven’t spoken to Camilla, but the brief moment she discovered me under Bubba’s engulfed in flames body.

I said her name, she gaped at me in utter shock and disbelief then ran away.

Literally sprinted.

Then there was the time I found her buying cocaine in the basement of the daycare two days ago.

With Emmy there.

We didn’t communicate the whole way I drove her home to Shitty Grove trailer park, where she claimed she was staying with a friend.

So why I’m one of her calls to pick her up—question of the century—but since she’s the only female that’ll speak to me right now, I start with her first. I’m allowing Emmy a day to herself to be pissed at me so we can go back to our semi-normalcy.

“You don’t have to do this,” Camilla mutters, staring down at my dark oak wood dining table. “I’m putting you out.”

She is, but I’m not going to verbalize it.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Your brother was staying here for a little while, yeah?” My body grows frigid at the mention of Hardy.

I don’t want her in my life anymore.

I left her behind for a reason.

We’re not gonna become friends, so the mere mention of my brother, who she knows all too well I silently mourned for as a kid and teen, isn’t a conversation we’re going to have.

“I’ll be out by the end of the week,” Camilla adds in when I don’t answer her question.

“Just stay until you figure out your next move.” Since my siblings and Madelyn are staying with me at the house, the trailer is useless at this point, and I’m going to sell it by year’s end.

Camilla gives me a weak smile and picks at the chipped red nail polish on her fingernails. “Haven’t thought that far ahead yet.”

This is awkward as all fucking hell.

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