Page 155 of The Spider & the Storm

“I saw him not too long ago when I was visiting my uncle Levi,” he said, suddenly somber and more serious than I preferred. “He said he hadn't seen you in a long time.”

Barbara glanced at me, suspicion in her eyes—or maybe I had imagined it.

“I moved,” I replied sheepishly.

“Yeah, I know. He said you had to leave.”

Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God, help me.

My eyes dodged toward Stormy, then to her mom, dad, sister, nephew, then back to Stormy. They had all stilled, all keeping their gazes on the floor or their hands or the chocolate-colored couch cushions, like they could sense the tension filling the air and didn't want to let a sliver of breath loose, so as not to upset the balance.

“I relocated,” I answered stupidly, like rewording the same response would end the conversation.

“From what he said, you had no reason to run away like that. You hadn’t done anythingwrong, Charlie,” Soldier said, laying it out and confirming that he did know. God, maybe he knew everything. “You know that, right?”

Stormy turned then, her gaze drilling a hole into the side of my face. “What is he talking about?”

Soldier tipped his head back, his lips parting. Realizing in an instant that he was the only other person in this room who had any idea about what had happened outside my bedroom door.

My throat struggled to swallow the fear down as I tried to speak. “I—”

“Nobody in town would leave him alone after his brother was thrown in prison,” Soldier cut in, surprising me with grace. “He had to get away to live his life.”

“Oh,” Stormy whispered, nodding. “Right, you told me about that.”

“Y-yeah.” That damn lump in my throat wouldn't budge.

Soldier caught my attention as he stood up, groaning, as if standing were the most taxing job on the planet. He walked toward the coatrack, and it was then that I noticed the slight limp to his gait.

“Ray, you okay with me heading across the street for a few minutes?” he asked, already pulling his jacket from its hook.

“Yeah, I'm good here,” she replied softly, a slight smile touching her lips.

Soldier slid his arms into the leather sleeves as he turned to face me. “Charlie, you wanna take a walk with me?”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. “Uh, sure.”

Memories of Ritchie bending my finger back, close to the point of breaking, rushed at me like a speeding freight train as I stood on legs of rubber.

“I meant it, you know. You should have been in that car.”

“Aw, how sweet,” Stormy cooed, clueless. “They're bonding.”

If by bonding she meant she was likely to find my lifeless body in a patch of dirt at the side of the road somewhere, then I was willing to bet money on her being right.

***

Soldier was more intimidating now than he had been inside Stormy's parents’ house. The two of us walked side by side through the open cemetery gate. We were alone, far enough away for my screams to be muffled to any listening ears, if I could scream at all with his gigantic hands encircling my neck. And it struck me as fitting, as I surveyed the neatly kept grounds, that I might find my end in the very place I found the most peace.

A consolation prize, if you will.

“You know, I really don't see anything wrong with having secrets,” Soldier said, abruptly disturbing the silence. He held his head low, watching the ground as he walked. Leading us along a dirt path, deeper into the graveyard. “I think it can be kind of a selfish thing—to keep something to yourself. Not, like, in a damning way, but just …”

He sighed and tipped his head back, eyes holding on to the setting sun and a painted sky. “Well, like, for example, sometimes, when I'm heading back home from Wayward, I like to stop by this place. It's not really on the way or anything, but I like to come by and pay my respects and, I dunno, just hang out with an old friend of mine. Ray doesn't know. I've never told her, and she's never asked me why some days I'm home later than others. And maybe that makes me an asshole. Some peoplewould probably have me crucified for keeping something so seemingly innocent from my wife. But …” He lifted his shoulders and dropped them heavily. “It just feels personal, you know. Not so personal that I wouldn't tell her if she asked, but …”

“I think I get it,” I replied, almost as quiet as the breeze that blew between us.

“Yeah, but I don't think you do. Because the thing is, some secrets … they gotta come out, man. You can't keep them inside, or they're gonna drive you insane. And if they don't manage to do that, they're definitely gonna drive her away when she eventually finds out.”

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