Page 82 of Endless

“And if anyone comes sniffing around, you tell me.” He combed my hair back and kissed the tip of my nose.

“How’d you do that so easily?”

“Practice.”

“On whom? Your PT Jeff?”

He laughed. “Your turn to tell me something.”

We resumed walking, but I now felt paranoid someone might be watching, or a gang member might jump out and start swinging a crowbar.

“What do you want to know?” I asked.

“Threes. Why is it threes for you?”

The air rushed out of my lungs.

“Oh boy. This one is Blow Pop worthy, isn’t it?” He pulled one out of his pocket.

“Oh my gosh. You have a Blow Pop in your pocket?” He was the sweetest thing ever.

“You thought I was just happy to see you, huh?”

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Damon

“Okay,Icandothis,” Lizzie whispered, and the fear in her voice killed me. Like a dull knife stabbed my windpipe.

She squeezed my hand three times, and I heard that sucker getting worked over in her mouth.

“Three…it was.” She cleared her throat. “Me, Mom, and Dad. It’d always been just us. Us three. They joked about the Three Musketeers. Three Amigos. Anything with threes. That was us.”

“So, no other siblings. What about other family?”

“Nope. And I’ll overlook that you asked me another question when it was your turn.”

“So gracious, my girlfriend.”

“No other family. They didn’t have any sisters and brothers. Both sides of the family died.”

“Really? Don’t hear that very often.”

“Cancer ate up one side. Mom’s mom died giving birth to her. Her dad, Grandpa Wayne, died of a heart attack.”

“Shit.”

“You? Any other family?” she asked.

“Just Drey. Dad’s in prison until the end of time. Never were in touch with any other relatives. There might be some up north. At least there was when I was a kid.”

“Oh shit,” Lizzie whispered and slowed us to a stop.

Instantly I perked up, listening for something out of the ordinary. Only heard the rustle of the leaves hanging over us, the flow of a nearby stream. If I remembered this park correctly there was a little bridge over a tiny stream.

A few distant voices registered, some heavy breathing and shuffling. A jogger. And a creak of a wheel; baby stroller, maybe.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

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