Page 34 of Insurgent

Jesus.

I’m still fucked up from finding out it’s Trig. I’m heartbroken about it.

This is going to sound shitty—fuck, what do I care? I’m more torn up about Trig than Samuel. Because to me they’re both gone. But the fact that he’s done this to us…

God help him.

“Are you going to tell me?” she says.

“You really want to know?”

“Yes.”

I nod. “We were heading back from a moonshine run. Moretti was selling it to the liquor stores for more than he paid. He was making a good profit; therefore, we were making good money. I noticed someone following us, so Mickey, Moretti’s right-hand man at the time, told me to pull over. Turns out, it was some meth heads, fucked up off their ass. They were trying to rob us. Things went south. They shot Mickey. He died on the way home.”

“The blood on you that night?” she questions. “It wasn’t from a deer then.”

“No. I lied. It was Mickey’s. We buried him.”

She shakes her head. “Why do you do this? Why do you want to live your life like this? I’ll never understand it. We could have had it all together.”

“But you said no,” I remind her. “Twice.”

Chapter Eighteen

Bones

2015

I leave her in the alley, her words soaking through my skin.“I’ve loved Samuel since I was a girl, and now I’ll be his wife.”

I’ve known Samuel was in love with Bex, but shit, I didn’t think she felt the same way. I mean, they’ve been together for years now, but part of me always thought…fuck, I don’t know what I thought.

She’s always looked out of place on this side of town. Too good for it, maybe, but now, damn. She’s otherworldly. The way she carries herself, the way she dresses like she just stepped out of a goddamn board meeting with some big CEO.

She’s still wearing the bracelet I bought her all those years ago, and that does something to me.

I head back to my car, climbing into the passenger seat.

Sweep looks over at me.

“What?” I say.

“The fuck you doing, Bones?”

“The fuck you mean, Sweep?” I ask. “Start the car. Let’s go. It’s done.”

“Yeah, I’ll believe that when one of you is below ground,” he says exasperatedly. He shakes his head slightly. Putting the car into drive, he heads down the road.

Sweep looks at me for a moment too long but doesn’t say anything farther. The sun has faded now, the night taking over. It makes my soul happy. I feel at home in the dark, because I’m a monster and monsters feed off it.

I look out the window, thinking about Bexley and wondering how she’s going to react to my brother asking her to marry him.

Maybe she’ll put on a happy smile and act surprised. Maybe she’ll be a fool and tell him that I already told her.

Before today, I hadn’t been in that shop in years. I always ride by in the evening—when the sun is fading, and I know she’s closing up—just to make sure she’s okay.

Just looking at her helps settle me down at night. She’s my shot of whiskey; she soothes me. I do a lot of shit. I hurt people, and she helps me remember that one day I won’t.

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