Page 139 of Wicked Ends
“I didn’t need you there after all.”
“But you wanted Dad out. You wanted to share the burden?—”
“And I forgot for a second that that man has only ever been a heavier burden, not relieved it. I thought for a second it might be different, but it wouldn’t have been. He’s the same as always. A waste of blood and bone. I don’t need his help. I don’t need anyone,” Cole said starkly.
“You have me,” I offered.
Ari had told me often enough that there were more people than I gave credit for who loved me. Cole had loved me all along. He’d sacrificed his life to raise me and give me a home. He’d supported me playing hockey after all. My heart swelled.
Cole nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, I have you. And you have me, always. Dad’s going to be away for a while longer, past when you’re done with school and out of here. Maybe he’ll read aboutyour Stanley Cup win from prison. That would be a sight to see,” Cole chuckled.
“He’s really not getting out?” I couldn’t believe it. Suddenly, the unpredictable element of my father appearing to fuck up my life was gone. It was disorienting.
Cole shook his head. “It looks like it’s just you and me, brother.”
I couldn’t fight my grin as I pulled my reluctant, tough-guy brother into a bear hug.
“Sounds perfect.”
Arianna
It didn’t take longto pack up my room at the Night Owl. I’d never really unpacked my things. Correction, I’d barely had any possessions in the first place. Not in Hade Harbor. I’d crawled here, hunted and haunted, with barely two cents to rub together, and somehow, made a life.
Stuff didn’t matter. The rented room and sloshy waterbed meant more than the years I’d lived in comparative luxury with my grandparents. My meager clothing collection was more precious than when I’d had a whole wardrobe full of expensive labels. I’d never cared about what I’d worn then, only that it covered me and didn’t draw attention. Now, my well-worn mini collection of outfits had memories attached. The jeans I wore at the Chickadee. The top I wore the first night I met Marcus. The hockey jersey hanging from a wire hanger, holding a thousand happy moments in its folds.
I stared at the suitcase I’d packed. I’d planned to leave Hade Harbor tonight. I was going to take the fall for everything at school, make sure Marcus got back on track with the life he deserved, and then go. Deciding to leave had been gut-wrenching, soul-destroying, any awful and life-ending adjective you could think of, but I’d done it.
For him. So he could have a fresh start. So that knowing me wouldn’t have cost him everything.
Now, I didn’t know. I wasn’t fired, like I’d planned to be. It left me in a weird in-between space. One thing was for sure, however, I needed to get Marcus to practice tomorrow and recommitted to the team. Coach Williams would be pissed about him being benched, but he wouldn’t want to lose him. He was the best goalie I’d ever seen. He was born for it.
My phone beeped with a message. Would this be the last time Marcus texted me? Could we move on from the bad shit that had happened between us? From Cole’s injury and surgery to whatever had gone down with Dale at the end, knowing me had exploded a bomb in Marcus’ life. The guilt and shame felt thick, a heavy blanket laying across my shoulders, weighing me down.
I picked up my phone, a thrill running through me at the sight of his name, and saw a dropped pin. The location was vaguely familiar.
I stood and slipped my bag over my shoulder and grabbed my keys. Whether it was the last time I saw Marcus or not, one thing was for sure: I’d make sure he made it to practice tomorrow.
I had time for one more game, and there was no one else I wanted to play with more.
The pin took me to the house I’d gone to see a few weeks ago. It felt like another life. That day had been a study in contrasts.From the high of realizing that I wanted to put down roots in Hade Harbor and the tentative hope that I’d be able to stay with Marcus, at least until he got bored of me, to the painful reality of Dale catching up with me.
I left my car at the side of the quiet road behind Marcus’ motorcycle and walked through the wild beach roses and dune grass wavering in the wind, filling the front yard.
Someone had cleaned up the porch. The exterior paint was new, as were the rocking chairs set in the corner of the wraparound porch, overlooking the view down to the water. There were even a couple of lobster traps repurposed as tables, and a rusty tin lantern swayed from a nail. I stopped and stared at the pretty domestic scene it made. Someone had clearly snapped this place up and made it a real home in the time I’d been battling with Dale. I was jealous, for a second. So jealous I couldn’t breathe. But that was plain wrong. I forced my resentment away. I had too much to be grateful for lately. I dragged a deep breath of clean salty air into my strangled lungs and relaxed my shoulders. I was glad that someone was going to live in this beautiful house.
But why was I here?
I walked up the creaking stairs and approached the door. This was where he wanted to meet? I pulled my phone out and checked it as I stood there, looking for signs of life. While I waited, a message came through.
M: Key is under the lighthouse.
A pretty, painted lighthouse statue sat by the front door, next to a new welcome mat. I lifted it, and sure enough, there was a key.
Straightening up, I fiddled with it and texted Marcus back.
A: I can’t just walk into someone’s house. Where are you?
M: Waiting for you. Trust me, birthday girl, one last time.
