Page 200 of One Big Little Secret

Will Arlo be a tennis ball, slapped around like every couple who splits and can’t agree to anything?

Fuck, I hope not.

It can’t come to that.

But I can’t rip them apart, either. Whatever else she might be, Salem’s a great mom, and she has a good relationship with the boy.

I swing into a gas station lot and let my head thunk back against the seat. All this shit feels like a conversation for another time, when Arlo isn’t stuck in the hospital and I’m not rattled from her breaking things off the way she did.

Or did I break them off, too?

But what was I supposed to do when she told me she was leaving to chase a new dream that doesn’t include me?

This has clearly been on her brain for a while.

I have an ugly feeling this boat shit has been in the cards for weeks, even if it wasn’t spelled out until Arlo got sick. She’s just been waiting for the right time to bail because she just can’t handle the fact that I could make her happy.

That life might stop spitting in her face and let her have an honest to Godfamily.

I don’t know if I hate her or I love her or it’s somewhere in between, this disgusting no man’s land haunted by her betrayal and Arlo’s poisoning.

All I know is, no matter how pissed I am right now, I won’t go hurting her.

My phone buzzes.

I’m sorry, Patton. I’m sorry a hundred times.

I’m back with Arlo. If you don’t want to talk right now, I get it. I’ll keep you updated and make sure you’re authorized to hear from the doctor.

Guess she’s just as hurt and confused as I am.

This lunacy hurts, partly because it’s familiar. About as much as finding out my dad died when I was too young to even comprehend it.

At least then, I didn’t really know what it meant.

That was an accident, too, Dad and his stupid damn plane.

Terrible, yes. Life-shifting.

Yet we’d pulled together as a family because of it. We came together for Mom and three lost boys figured out how to grow up faster.

Years later, Archer came up with the concept for what became Higher Ends. We each did our time in the military and experienced the world before coming home to the only place that ever mattered.

Why is this so hard?

Why can’t I make Salem see?

A tragedy is only a fucking end if you run.

I grit my teeth and toss my phone aside.

There’s no chance I’m speaking to her again until this situation gets sorted. Once I have evidence to nail Evelyn with maximum criminal penalties and Arlo has recovered,thenwe can talk.

The winds keep howling as I drive back to Mom’s house. Even though it’s late—morning now, technically—all the lights are blazing in the house, and two other cars are parked in the driveway.

Archer and Dexter. Of course they’d be here. They’ve probably gotten a head start on tearing through walls, looking for a single scrap of that poison plant.

Juniper greets me in the hall, an apron around her waist and her red hair scraped back in a bun. Her eyes are shadowed as she pulls me into a hug.

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