by Amelia Gates
Behind me, I heard Daisy climb over the fence and I grinned to myself, pushing the thoughts that had seeped in far to the boondocks of my mind. She couldn’t stand to watch me do things wrong, she never could. She also could never leave me to my own demise, always wanting to be close, always drawing near when she should be far. I think back to life with her and Hunter – the way she was always itching to be a part of everything we were in. The way we were always adamant on keeping her out. That’s not to say we didn’t spend a lot of time with Daisy. Hunter wasn’t just her brother, wasn’t just her twin either, they were best fucking friends. Sibling rivalry didn’t exist with them. Hunter wanted for Daisy more than he ever wanted for himself. All the wrongs he might have done, he did them to offer her a better life. The same was true for me. I’d never wanted anything more than I wanted…well, than I wanted her.
To make her believe in love.
To be the one to love her.
To make her feel protected.
To be the one to protect her.
To see her succeed.
To give her every damn thing she needed in order to grip success by the balls.
I crouched to brush the dirt off one of the graves and squinted to read the name. I didn’t care what it was. I was halfway making a point. Showing her that I’d crawl my way through this entire place until Sunday if that’s what it took to find Hunter.
“You’re in the wrong spot,” she said, exasperated. “You should know that. We spent enough time in here to—” She cut herself off and turned on her heel. “Come on.”
I followed her. “I knew you remembered.”
“Shut up. It doesn’t matter what I remember or what we did together or how long we knew each other. All that matters is that it’s over now and it’s your fault.” Her voice shook as badly as her body had before.
“You trying to convince me or yourself?” I asked.
“Shut up.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Oh my god, shut up!”
I feel like it’s disrespectful to grin in a graveyard, but as Danton’s Most Wanted, I wasn’t real concerned about minding my manners.
The stones grew sharper and shinier as we walked, and the overgrowth receded until we came to a place that was all freshly mowed lawn and glistening concrete. Flowers in various stages of decay lay respectfully across mounds of earth, identifying those whose deaths were still fresh enough to earn attention from those they’d left behind. And those who had been forgotten as the years drew on.
Hunter’s headstone was small and cheap, a generic curve jutting out of the ground. The only thing that set it apart was the die-cast Oldsmobile perched on top of it. I chuckled.
“Who did that?” I asked.
Daisy was fighting a grin. “Mom did. She had it cemented on there, too. It’s going to be there forever.”
“She has no idea, does she.”
Daisy lost the battle. Her smile was almost bright enough to illuminate the entire graveyard. “No,” she said, her voice glittering with suppressed laughter. “She thought he just really liked Oldsmobiles.”
“Think his sample stash is still in there?”
She shot me a wicked look. “I made sure of it. There’s a whole handful of drugs sealed into that thing’s undercarriage.”
My laugh echoed off the somber graves around me. “Good work. Leaving presents for future archeologists.”
Her amusement faded and she shrugged. “I don’t think anybody’ll be studying Danton. Nothing important ever happened here. Do what you came here to do so we can leave.”
She leaned against a neighboring headstone and fixed her eyes on me. Damn it, I had things to say and I didn’t want to say them in front of her, not now that I knew how she felt about me. I tried to shut her out and focus, but she was taking up my whole mind.
“You wanna give me a minute?” I asked.
“You have your minute. I won’t say a word.”
“Daisy, please don’t be a brat about this. Let me say goodbye to my best friend in peace. Please.”
She narrowed her eyes at me for a moment, then shrugged and stepped away. It was a nominal gesture—she was still well within earshot—but at least I could avoid looking at her now and could pretend that I was alone.
I traced my finger over the cold metal model car, grinning at the thought of his mother commemorating his life with his drug stash. I wonder what Kash would have thought about it if he could see it.
“You’re an asshole,” I told him. “You see what you did? Convinced your poor mother that you had some kind of toy car obsession. I told you to use a book.”
I brushed a bit of dirt off of his name and read it slowly. It was hard to believe that he was gone. Somehow harder now, than it was when I was in prison. I guess that’s what happens when you aren’t there to watch a person get lowered into the ground. Something akin to parents of missing kids never being able to really and truly let go; hanging on to hope because they’re sure little Tommy could still be somewhere out there.
Looking at Hunter’s headstone, though, caused emotions to flood me in one fell swoop, causing my chest to tighten and my heart to squeeze.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. You don’t read and everybody knows it. Would have been suspicious. Don’t know how a grown man walking around with a book is more suspicious than a grown man walking around with a toy car, but I figured you knew what you were doing.”
I frowned at the gravestone and settled down on the earth. I was probably sitting on his feet. “What were you doing, Hunter? You were supposed to be with me. I put off that deal for an hour waiting on you, you know. Dude was pissed. Just about took my head off when I wouldn’t give him a discount for the ‘inconvenience’. I mean, come on, who puts their ‘customer is always right’ face on in the middle of a drug deal?”
I saw the scene in my head for the billionth time. Me, on some street corner fighting with some new customer. My mind zoomed out to take in the whole town, then the fishing pond, then the picnic area, then just a little farther to the edge of the woods—maybe three miles from where I’d been—to see Hunter getting bludgeoned to death by some shadowy figure. In my head, the figure had my face and build. Guilt’ll do that, I guess.
“I could’ve used your help in prison,” I said. “There were these two guys—you remember what we did to the Marley brothers in eighth grade? With the mummy in the locker thing? These two would have pissed themselves. Thought they were so big and bad, scared to death of things that go bump in the night.” I chuckled. I could almost feel Hunter’s presence reminiscing with me, just close enough to remind me that he was very much gone. The emptiness inside of me spread, opening like a monstrous mouth trying to swallow me whole. A part of me wouldn’t have minded it. This world wasn’t an easy place to be in. Maybe Hunter had it better wherever he was. I didn’t really believe in a heaven, but I couldn’t exactly say anywhere wasn’t better than Danton.
“Man, everything’s messed up now,” I told him. “This town’s gone to hell without you. Old Raff’s gone, don’t know what happened to him. Maybe he’s hanging out with you. Bet he’s still bumming smokes, too. Y’all smoke in heaven?”
Hunter never believed in heaven either. Ghosts, sure. Hell, absolutely—he figured it was here on earth. But heaven was too far out of reach to his mind. I sighed. “Look, man, if hell’s real then heaven is too. Maybe bringing a little heaven to people on earth is what buys you your ticket. Makes sense to me, anyway. No, I ain’t talking about the drugs, that ain’t heaven. I’m talking about the shit you did for people. Like those damaged girls who were always following you around. The way you’d just listen to them four hours because they needed to vent. Not many people like that around here.”
Hunter wouldn’t have called the girls damaged. He would have classified them as people who needed balancing. That’s how he saw everybody, even our customers; people who needed balance. That was why he made rules for who to sell to, and never broke those rules.
&nbs
p; “I talked to Leroy. I’m not sure about that whole balance theory of yours anymore. The hotel’s gone to shit, and so’s his teeth. Yeah, yeah—Dayle picked up where we left off. This town’s still partying. I guess Dayle doesn’t have a monthly limit the way you did, ‘cause Leroy’s been strung out every time I’ve seen him.” I blew out a breath and shoved a hand through my hair. “Was it Dayle, Hunter? Getting impatient for his piece of the pie? Damn it, you should have told me what you were into that night. I knew something was up. I fucking knew it. And…Jesus, Hunter, we were a team. Whatever it was, you should have come to me. Whatever it was…you shouldn’t have tried to handle it on your own.”
Tears of regret burned at my eyes and I pressed the heels of my hands against them. It didn’t help, they spilled over anyway.
“What the hell, man? Why’d you always have to handle the sticky shit alone? You can’t talk everybody out of everything. You know that! That’s what I kept telling you and you kept on arguing with me, saying you’d rather have a nice diplomatic sit-down than have your guard dog intimidate people.”
I choked on a chuckle and let my hands fall. “What’s the point of having a guard dog at all if you won’t let him back you up when your diplomatic talking doesn’t get the job done? It’s that balance you like so much.”
I frowned at the ground and ripped up a fistful of grass. “You were the one who always said we shouldn’t go into the woods alone. Wouldn’t even let me go, and I’m bigger than you by a long shot. You were always careful. What the hell made you decide to break all your own rules? You lose your damn mind?”
My raised voice echoed off the tombstones around me, snapping reality back into focus. It chased Hunter’s presence—real or imagined—away, and then I was nothing but a crazy ex-con babbling away to myself in the middle of a graveyard.
“Well,” I breathed. “Rest in peace and all that shit.”
I pulled myself up and touched the car again. It wasn’t so funny anymore. It was Hunter’s crucifix. I didn’t know why, and I didn’t know how, but I was certain that the nature of our business had everything to do with his death. I guess sometimes playing with fire gets you burned—but that was why he made rules. I wondered if I’d ever figure out why he’d broken them all.
When I turned back to Daisy, it was hard to overlook the fact that her face was covered in tears. It broke my fucking heart. I wanted to wrap her in my arms and protect her from the world, but I knew she didn’t want me. I was the thing she needed protection from now. Or at least, she thought so.
“Sorry,” I said shortly. “Took a little longer than I thought. I’ll walk you home if you want.”
I started walking but she didn’t move.
“Kash, wait.”
I turned back toward her. She was wiping her face, but the tears kept coming anyway, rewetting the spots she dried. Her lower lip was trembling and I just wanted to kiss it until it stopped, squeeze her until she stopped looking so broken. I couldn’t look at her anymore. I rested my gaze back on Hunter’s headstone.
“Yeah, what’s up, you need to rest some more? It’s cool, I have all night, I’ll walk you home whenev—”
“Oh, shut up, Kash.”
I couldn’t tell if she was laughing or crying and I couldn’t afford to check. She walked to me and I willed her to go away. Didn’t she understand? I couldn’t just stand there in arms’ reach of her and all her wild emotions. I couldn’t ignore her forever. The only thing I’d wanted to do for six years was hold her and comfort her and make her burden a little easier to bear. I wasn’t like Hunter. I couldn’t just deny myself forever the way he could.
If she knew all that, she didn’t care. She stepped right up to me and put her cool little hands on either side of my face, forcing me to look at her. Those big, intense watery eyes. That soft, supple mouth full of emotion. Those smooth, perfect cheeks and her little nose, adorably off-kilter. That was Hunter’s fault. He’d accidentally hit her in the face with a shovel when we were kids. I wanted to trace the gentle slant of it down to her mouth, so I shoved my hands in my pockets.
“Okay, you win,” she said softly.
I win? “What do I win?”
Her laugh was soft and liquid, which just confused me more.
“Another chance,” she said. “I believe you. I mean, I think I do. Either you didn’t kill him, or you put on one hell of a show, and I know you don’t give a shit what I think so it can’t be that second one. As for the letters…if you said you wrote me…I guess I have no choice but to believe that too.”
How was it possible for her to be so far off-base? I knew I shouldn’t say what I was about to say. If that was her rationale, then arguing with it would only screw me out of my chance. But she deserved to know, and I couldn’t stop myself from saying it anyway. I was the thing she needed to be protected from, but I was also the only person capable of protecting her.
I grabbed her hands off my face and held them tight, looking deep into her eyes.
“Listen here, Daisy. Your opinion is the only one I do give a shit about. I do care what you think. Every thought, every feeling, everything. Don’t you dare give me a second chance just because you think I don’t care. Don’t be that stupid.”
Her startled eyes widened, reflecting the vastness of the sky. I could see her thoughts whirling, watched her emotions fly over her expression like clouds across the face of the moon. I braced myself for anything. Argument, tantrum, violence, whatever was coming, I was ready. But then she smiled, and I was off-balance all over again.
“You’re calling me stupid and trying to talk me out of believing you all at once? Who’s the stupid one, here?”
I sighed and dropped my head. “I just want you to make informed decisions, that’s all. You’re smart, you’ve always been smart, just not about people. Not about me.”
She laughed and I looked up. “You said that same thing to me the summer before high school when you were trying to convince me that you were so dangerous.”
“I am dangerous.”
“Shut up.”
“Yes ma’am.”
She giggled and it was the best sound in the world. Then she turned serious again. “Listen, Kash. I know I said we don’t know each other anymore, but I was wrong. I do know you. I don’t think you killed him. If you had, all those questions you were asking him would have had double meanings because you’re too smart for your own good and you’re actually basically an honest person.”
She sighed and looked away, then swallowed hard. “And you know, even if I’m wrong—you can’t fake remorse like that. So maybe something went wrong and Hunter wound up dead. Even if it was your hand, I don’t think you meant to.”
I shook my head. “I didn’t kill him, Daisy. The only thing I feel remorse over is not getting the three of us out of this damn town a heck of a lot sooner. If I did—”
She shook her head at me and sucked a deep breath in. “Here’s the thing, Kash. You can’t live like that. Trust me, you can’t, and you don’t want to. I’ve what-iffed myself into a depressive spiral for the past few years. We can’t change what happened, but maybe we can change what happens now.”
I put my arms around her and held her close, crushing her against my chest so tight I could have broken her. Maybe Daisy was right. Maybe we could. Maybe there was still time to salvage our lives, somehow.
Chapter 8
I hadn’t realized before how much of my grief was due to my belief in Kash’s guilt and the subsequent loss of our future, but now, as I held his hand through the woods I felt as though I was walking on air. I was giddy for the first time in years and it took everything I had to keep from dancing.
I looked up at Kash, seeing so much in his eyes. Sadness, happiness, truths, mistruths, the past, the future. I shook my head and laughed. “If you keep staring at me like that your eyes are going to fall out. Blink, man, blink!”
He grinned. “It’s good to see you happy. Didn’t think I’d ever see it again.”
&nb
sp; “Neither did I,” I confessed. “And not just because Hunter died, and not just because you went to prison. It’s more selfish than that, I’m afraid.”
He cocked his head at me curiously. “Selfish? How?”
I squeezed his hand and fought the flutter of anxiety in my chest which told me to keep everything inside. Speaking authentically was a habit I would have to re-learn; I had gotten used to keeping my opinions to myself over the last six years.
“You remember our plan, don’t you? How you two were going to make enough money to get us out of here? We were going to buy a big house with a massive garden and live in it together. We were going to have parties and friends and cars and I would get my degree and we would never have to come back here ever again.”
“I remember,” he said.
“I had my whole life pinned to that moment. From the day we came up with the plan, I started living life differently. I stopped trying to see a future here and just pinned my entire existence on the day we could get out of here. The day we lived in a house rather than that broken down trailer. The flowers I’d plant in the garden. The meals I’d cook with vegetables I picked with my very own hands. You have no idea how much I pestered Hunter about it. How much longer, Hunter? How much longer now?”
I sighed against the heaviness in my chest. “Then he was gone and you were gone and there were no more updates. I was just here. Stuck. Watching all my dreams turn to ash. Watching my brother get buried into the ground. No money, no plan, no partners in crime—just me and my grief and my parents. I’ve been stuck in limbo ever since, surviving from one day to the next with no plan and no enthusiasm for the future.” I shook my head. “I can’t be happy like that.”
