Page 35 of When the Smoke Clears

Stupid fucking small towns.

My mouth opens, but I don’t know what to say.

“You probably think you need to apologize right now. You don’t need to,” she says.

I assess her more closely. The dark circles around her eyes, the translucent tint of her skin.

“I’m not angry with you. I forgave you as soon as I got the news.”

My face scrunches. “That’s a very selfless thing to do. You don’t even know me. Or what happened.”

“I don’t need to. I knew my son. And he was just like his father.” This suddenly feels like a much deeper conversation, and a latent validation of my distrust of Alan all these years.

I look around the sparsely populated lot. “I get the impression you came here for a reason that wasn’t to talk to me.”

Her eyes pass momentarily to the front door of the police department. “I came to speak with the detective.”

“I see.” I study my boots.

“You look like you’re in pain.” She motions to my midsection. “They said you were injured during the incident.”

I don’t know how much I’m supposed to say. Once again, I feel like I’m in over my head. Yet another reason I should have a lawyer. I hoped by helping with the preliminary process that this would all go away.

Melissa seems to be genuine, though.

“Colt stabbed me.”

“Was it serious?” She takes a half-step forward, realizes her movement, and pauses. “This is all so surreal.”

“It is,” I agree quietly. “It could’ve been worse.” The fact that I’m saying as much to the mother of the man I killed makes me feel ill. I could be dead, and hinting that his death was a better option than mine feels selfish to say directly to her.

“I’m glad it wasn’t.” Her face twists into a grimace.

“Ms. Garrett, glad you could make it!” Detective Porter calls down to her from the open front door.

Both of us look his way. She waves politely before turning back to me. “Would you be open to speaking again? It can be in public.”

I weigh the options. “I’ll think about it.” I hand her a card from my purse. “You can reach out and I’ll let you know how I’m feeling.”

She nods solemnly. “That’s fair. I hope you have a smooth recovery, Maci.” She presses her lips together in an awkward, tight smile.

I can’t bring myself to say anything. I only watch as she climbs the steps to meet Detective Porter, whose eyes stay pinned on me.

Chapter 11

Maci

Afterdinner,SuttonandI take the truck to the future site of his house. The sun sets earlier and earlier these days, and the sky is a deep indigo when we park. Still crisp, the gusty wind from earlier has left the air. Dim stars begin to dot the sky.

Sutton pulls a blanket from the backseat and opens the tailgate. I don’t move until he comes to my door, swinging it open wide and leaning his front against my seat. Warm breath teases my ear as he tucks his head in close. “Tonight, you’re going to let me help you into the truck, Firecracker.”

“I’m in the truck.” I bite my lip to hide a smirk.

His voice is intoxicating. “The truckbed, Maci.”

“Are you going to lay me down in it?” I tip my head up, subtly giving him more access to skin. Needing more touch, more fire.

“I am not.” He indulges me, kissing down my neck with featherlight lips. “And you’re going to behave.”

---