Page 37 of My Secret to Protect

‘You’re driving me to Grandma’s house.’ She starts for the door, and I stand to protest.

‘Bree, it’s almost midnight. By the time we get there, it’ll be the early hours of the morning.’

‘Then we’ll sit in your truck outside her house until she wakes up. It’ll be like the good old days. Get your damn keys, Arlo.’

ThedriveuptoMrs. C’s house is excruciating. I want to talk to Bree, but she’s silent, practically vibrating with anger and confusion and focusing all her attention on Beans, who curled up between us on the bench seat and laid his head on her lap like he’s choosing sides. I’d be pissed at him, except he’s been throwing me those judgy looks ever since I agreed to this fuckin’ plan, so it’s not a surprise.

‘Bree, look…’

‘No. Don’t say anything. I don’t want to hear anything right now.’

Okay then. I guess I’ll just keep driving.

When we enter the neighborhood where Mrs. C’s bungalow is located, I feel the tension pull across my shoulders. Slowing to a stop at the bottom of the street, I feel Bree’s gaze on me.

‘What are you doing?’ she snaps.

‘Waiting.’

‘So, wait in her driveway.’

‘Bree, we pull into her driveway at three am, and we alert whoever is in that van and have to convince them we aren’t a threatandrisk waking her.’

She processes my words, and I know she wants to argue, but instead, she presses her lips together and slumps back into her seat and into her silence.

I turn on some music quietly, and she doesn’t protest, but after a few minutes, I turn it back off. I hate the awkwardness. In my youth, in prison, even in the years since, I’ve loved my own company. I like putting on music and not having to talk to anybody, but this, inside this pressure cooker, is making my skin itch.

‘We lied to you to make it easier for you,’ I say quietly, and she snaps her attention to me, so I turn to meet her eye.

‘Are you fucking kidding me?’ She’s furious and embarrassed. I can see it in her eyes, even in the dim light.

‘You’re not sleeping. You’re tired and off your game. Are you telling me you’d have gone along with this?’

‘Hell no, I wouldn’t, Arlo. This is insane.’

She’s right, this is fucking insane, so why wait any longer? Why play it safe when we’re already in this shit show? Without another thought, I start the engine and pull up to Mrs. C’s house, swinging the truck into the driveway and waiting for the shit to hit the fan.

That’s not what happens, though. To my surprise, as I park, Bree and I look up to see Mrs. C sitting on her front porch playing cards with a young guy wearing a cut like the one I used to wear.

‘What the…’ Bree climbs out of the truck, and I follow as the older lady stands and holds out her hand to stop the kid standing to confront us.

‘What are you doing here?’ Mrs. C asks, looking from Bree to me and back.

‘We need to talk,now,’ Bree says before stomping inside the house.

The kid stands, looking me up and down as he passes as though sizing me up, and I know he has no idea who I am.

‘Go back to the van, kid,’ I instruct and glare at him in a way that lets him know I’m not in the mood to be pushed. Then, walking behind Beans, I follow the two Campbell women inside the house.

‘So, I’m guessing the jig is up, given the look on your face,’ Mrs. C says, watching Bree stand in her kitchen, arms folded.

‘Sit down, Bree,’ I say, and she snaps her gaze to me.

‘You don’t tell me to sit down.’

‘I will then,’ Mrs. C says calmly as she puts on a pot of coffee. ‘Both of you, sit.’

Neither of us is willing to risk arguing with the woman who could kick both of our asses into next week, so we sit, but Bree looks ready to explode. I take her in, still dressed from ourdateand still frustratingly beautiful, but I can’t ignore the tiredness I see around her eyes. She looks exhausted and broken.

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