Page 95 of His Last Shot
“Anything.”
Her hand remains on my chest, a comforting weight I don’t want to let go of. “Remember us always lying under the stars. Remember when it was just us and the universe. Let that memory take hold, and don’t let it go. Let it propel you forward as you do the big and hard things. Promise me.”
“I promise. It’s only us and the stars.” One last time, I lean forward, and our lips connect. It’s soft, sweet, and slow.
It’s goodbye.
I walk out into the night with Rachel’s sobs trailing behind me, and the door shuts.
Before I get into the truck, I take in this bar one last time. A bar that led me to Rachel, and a bar that ultimately became my ruin.
Suddenly, the door cracks open slightly, a sliver of light illuminating the darkness. Rachel peers out, gives me a sad grin, then recedes back into Dexter’s.
We haven’t shut the door completely on us.
Not yet.
27
You Are Dead to Me
Rachel
SLAM!!
The door shuts violently, shaking the pictures hanging on the walls and causing Dexter to jerk out of his chair, his hand flying to his heart.
“Rachel?” he asks after he gets his breathing under control. He scoots his chair out, using his hands as leverage on the armrests to heave himself out of it. “What in the world are you—”
I hold my hand up. “Don’t come any closer to me.” He lowers his head, understanding etched on his brows as he shoves his hands in his pockets. “How could you do this to me?” I ask, my words coming out shakier than I want them to.
I’m a hot mess. Being awake all night heartbroken and crying will do that to a person. So, no doubt my eyes are puffy and bloodshot, my skin red and blotchy.
After Johnny and I had a heartbreaking goodbye last night, and as soon as the sun rose, I got in my car and drove straight here to confront him. With no idea what to expect from this conversation.
“He’s no good for you, Rachel,” he replies, not even man enough to look me in the eye as he says this.
“SAYS WHO?!” I scream at the top of my lungs, causing him to flinch. The air around us ebbs and flows with anger as I stalk toward him. With each step,the rhythm of my approach echoes the thud of my heartbeat as I get closer to him. “I get to say who makes me happy and who doesn’t. I say what I—”
“You get no say,” he says through gritted teeth. “Do you even understand how that man cost me hundreds of thousands of dollars yesterday? I warned him.” He rounds the desk to get closer to me. For the first time in thirty years, being with my uncle is scaring me. I take a step backward. “I told him what would happen if he crossed me. You should thank me. I gave you a gift.”
“You are sick.”
“I could make that whole family of his disappear”—he snaps his fingers—“like that. Instead, I chose you, Rachel. Don’t you get it? The alternative was to lose him and that whole family that you love more than me.”
Realization washes over me. “Is that what this is about? Jealousy?”
Now it’s his turn to scream. “I did everything for you!! I took you and Micah in when you had NOTHING!” His eyes are wide and wild, and that’s when I notice the dilated pupils and the redness. My attention flicks to his desk. White powder, a razor.
Coming in here, I was so angry and laser-focused that I missed what was right in front of me. Evidence that’s blaring its horn, loud enough for me to hear and understand. Somehow, and I don’t know when, my uncle’s criminal activity has expanded. To drugs.
And he’s partaking.
But I barrel ahead. “This isn’t a contest! I can love Johnny and have him in my life and still be a niece to you. Why can’t you see that!?”
“For months, you have been choosing him over me, your family! I took care of you! I set you up with doctors for your RA, gave you a job. I even handed you the perfect man on a platter.”
My head jerks. “Who? What are you talking about?”
