Page 14 of The Best Kind of Bad

I scan the street, eyes searching through the crowd, but I already know I won’t find her.

A strange feeling of loss swells in my chest.

But that feeling bleeds into other empty crevices in my soul. Takes up residence next to everything else I’ve lost. My parents. Gus.

Now my home and my livelihood.

I turn away from the ruckus of the street party and make my way through the dark towards my truck. Climbing into the cab, I sit in the dark for a few moments, letting it bury me. It can suffocate me for all I care.

But after the count of five, I draw in a deep breath and carry on. That’s what we Larson men do. We push forward. Hopeless, stupid, dogged. You go until you can’t. That’s how it works.

Turning the key in the ignition, I glance at the clock.

It’s only ten o’clock. Sienna isn’t due back home until eleven.

I know I still have a little weed stashed away somewhere.

Throwing my truck into gear, I back out of my spot. “Fuck it.”

Smoke it if you’ve got it.

I drive down the old highway, the same one I’ve driven a thousand times before, and yet, something about this night feels different. I’ve felt this way before, unsettled. Like I’m sailing down a knife’s edge, not knowing which way I’ll fall.

Like when my dad died.

And then when my mom got sick.

With both parents gone, that left Sienna and me against the world. I was seventeen and didn’t know shit about raising a seven-year-old girl.

I heave a sigh. This is why I don’t usually take the lid off this box. One depressing thought leads to the next and they just keep coming like a clown trick, one after the other.

I pull into Gus’s farmyard and slow down.

There’s a strange car there. A little black sedan with city plates.

Maybe Juice and his cousin stopped by after all.

Juice is fine, but his cousin set off all kinds of red flags. Can’t say I’m happy about that shady fucker knowing where my sister and I live. I crane my head. That car isn’t swanky, but it looks too nice for a guy namedSkunk.

I climb out of my truck, curiosity and wariness surging through my veins.

And then there she is. My mystery woman.

Hope blooms in my chest. Foolish, happy hope.

She followed me home, after all.

I don’t even have time to wonder about the logistics of that result before she frowns at me. “What are you doing here?”

There’s a nervous edge to her voice.

I’mfreaking her out.

By being home.

The moment hangs between us, crystalizing into something hard.

And that’s when Ed comes charging out, barreling into the night like he always does.

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