Page 35 of Ravens
I sit on a log and fluff the eggs inside the foil bag.
“You’re with me this morning,” York says, handing me one of the mugs. “We’ll take advantage of the sun and head over to the lake.”
“To do what?”
“Fight with you.”
“I thought you’d be tired of me fighting with you by now.” The coffee singes my lip, and I wince, setting it down.
“There is a difference between whining and fighting. Iamtired of the fucking whining.”
August laughs, and I point my gun at him. When the safety clicks off, everyone freezes, and the smile slides off his face. Maybe this is why York thinks I’m crazy.
“I don’t fucking like you,” I tell him calmly. “And I woke up this morning regretting the air still in your lungs.”
York moves toward me, and I flick the safety back on before opening my hand and letting the gun dangle from my index finger. There is no irritation when he takes it away, and I go back to eating my eggs unbothered.
***
“Would August make a suitable gift?” He looks at me as he holds a branch back so I canpass.
“Gift,” I repeat.
“Would it make you happy if I let you kill him?” He comes up behind me and retakes the lead.
Here is a conversation I never thought I’d have. Interesting that he thinks I need his permission . . . or that I’d wait for it. The real struggle between York and me is power. He wants to have it all, and there is no fucking way.
“If I were to do it, I wouldn’t be looking for your approval beforehand,” I say, annoyed at his audacity.
“Hm.”
“Plus . . . there is no way that guy is employed by a government.” I pass him. “He’d never pass a psych eval, so he’s here as an independent, correct?”
“Maybe.”
“Good. Then no one will come looking when I do off him.”
“When?Wemight.”
“I’ll fucking shoot you all too.”
Snorting, he walks ahead of me for a while but doesn’t say anything else. It’s another ten minutes before the trees spread thin and the soft, loamy earth gives way to stones.
He leads me all the way to the water’s edge, and we stand shoulder to shoulder gazing across the quiet lake. Out of the blue, he shoves me back, and I stumble, landing on my ass when my heel strikes a larger rock.
“What the hell . . .” I look up at him, but he’s already turned his back on me.
Getting up, I shove him forward, but he barely budges, and then he turns on me and lunges. My knee comes up, but he blocks it. I jump back, but he just keeps coming at me, and I realize what’s happening.
He’s testing my skills. That’s whatallthis is. He’s trying to get me to out myself.
“Will your brain work better if I tie your hands together?”
“Shut up,” I growl and kick at him.
He swipes my foot away, and my other ankle twists in the stones. Cursing, I drop and fall to my back.
He drops down on my legs. “I know you’re better than this. You have to be because you're alive.”
