Page 111 of Endgame

It was a really bad fucking day.

“Dad sold Mr. Peterson the house down on Seaport Front,” I explained, drawing myself from my thoughts. “The one a mile or so down the shoreline from our house.”

“She doesn’t look like before.” Daryl frowned, obviously remembering back to that period in our lives.

“Yeah.” What Daryl meant was Molly didn’t look burned. “It’s mostly on her arms and legs,” I explained, reeling off what Amelia had once told me.

“So, it’s just Molly and her father now?”

I nodded. “As far as I know.”

“Goddamn,” Daryl muttered, shouldering his bag. His brow was set in a deep frown. “God fucking damn.”

I had a feeling from the look on Daryl’s face that his plans for tonight had taken a drastic turn. “Don’t tell me you’re that fucking vain, dude,” I growled, looking at my friend with a disgusted expression.

“Huh?”

“The burns.” I cocked a brow. “You’re bailing tonight, aren’t you?”

Daryl looked stunned as he registered my words. “Are you serious?” he finally hissed, tone angry. “You think I’m that fucking superficial?”

I shrugged but didn’t respond.

We both knew he was.

“I liked that girl when we were kids,” he shot back, voice laced with heated vindication. “She was –” He paused for a moment before saying, “sweet.”

I raised a brow. “Sweet?”

“Shut the hell up,” Daryl grumbled. “You just go ahead and worry about banging your stepsister and leave her friend to me.”

Mercedes

“HOW IS YOUR FIRST WEEK at school going, sweetheart?” my mother’s soft, girly voice filled my ears as I was making my way to the parking lot after school on Thursday. “Did you make friends? What are your classes like?”

“I survived,” I replied, biting back the urge to say if she really cared she would have been here or, at the very least, would’ve called me on Monday. “Classes are fine.” I leaned against the hood of my car and sighed. “And I’ve already made a friend. Molly, remember?”

“Just her?” I could hear the disappointment in her voice. “Mercy, you should be making lots of friends.”

I rolled my eyes. “We’re not all like you,head cheerleader.”

“Those were the best days,” Mom sighed dreamily, and I had to fight back the very real urge to puke.

“So, you guys will be back next week, right?”

Long pause.

Not good.

“Mom?” I pressed, holding my phone a little tighter to my ear. “You’re still coming home next week, right?”

“Yes, Mercedes. We’ll be home next week,” Mom shot back, tone sullen, and I knew right there she was pouting. I could read the woman like a book.

“Good. So, um, how’s the uh, pregnancy coming along?” I grimaced at my words.Pregnancy. Yuck.

“Wonderful. I’m only four and half months along but I’m so big already,” she replied with a giggle. Yep, the woman was thirty-three years old and stillgiggled. Ugh. “Gabe is being so attentive.” Lowering her voice to a whisper, she said, “He’s like an animal lately. Can’t seem to get enough of me.”

I shuddered at the thought. “Too much information, Mom.”

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