Page 125 of The Locksmith's Promise

I swallowed past the lump in my throat.

Flicked the lighter under the rag and reveled in the first lick of the flames.

Facing my past head on, I whipped the bottle into the mess that was my childhood.

A splash of orange rolled into an angry, red ball of fire that roared into the night sky.

Eric threw his arms in the air and whooped.

John punched the air. “Fuck, yeah!”

Miller stuffed his hands in his pockets and stood beside me, shoulder to shoulder. He bumped me lightly. “You good?”

I bumped him back. “Yeah.”

He looked at John and Eric whooping it up. “Look at these fucking doorknobs.”

A rumble of easy laughter bubbled up in my stomach and filled my chest to overflowing until it escaped my lips. “Our fucking doorknobs.”

“Marshmallow?” Keith handed me a stick.

I shrugged. “Sure.”

It was the early hours of the morning before it was done, nothing left but a steaming pile of charred, wet wood.

Exhausted, I turned to Maggie’s dad.

He stayed the whole night, him and Sarge pulling out more lawn chairs for us and telling stories while we devoured Laurie’s cooler full of food.

And I knew, I just knew, he’d be there always.

“Sir?”

Eyes rimmed red from smoke and lack of sleep held mine. “Son?”

“I need to talk to Maggie.”

He smiled. “I’ll pick up my grandson on my way home.”

29

It’s Going to Hurt

Maggie

Clad in pyjama pants and Baxter’s old sweatshirt, I paced the length of my tiny family room waiting for him to come home. My dad had picked up Corwin over an hour ago to give Baxter and me space to talk.

Dad was a mess with bloodshot eyes, smudges of black on his face and his clothes, and reeking of smoke. But he was smiling. He wouldn’t tell me anything other than Baxter was in a better place than he was.

Than he was when?

Yesterday? Ten years ago? Three weeks ago? When?

As usual, he didn’t give me enough information, and Baxter wasn’t coming nearly fast enough.

I peered out the window looking onto the street below but there was no sign of Baxter out front.

Jogging to my bedroom, I checked the back parking lot, but his truck wasn’t there either.

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