Page 69 of Even After Sunset

I should—because that kid is me. But instead I’m intrigued. Even though, yeah, I get that I’m just falling for Richard’s mind games—that this is exactly how he wanted me to feel. He wants me to realize that if I can forgive that kid, then I can forgive myself. And it’s not a bad end-game—if it weren’t for that missing puzzle piece. The one I’m holding on to so tightly it cuts right through to the bone. The one I’m not willing to let go of.

And yet… when I think about that boy holding it—when I think about him waking up every night in a sweat of nightmares and pain and guilt—it changes things. Itdoesfeel different. Even knowing everything he’s done—the part Richard doesn’t know about—I still feel bad for him.

I still don’t blame him.

And I don’t know what to do with that thought. I don’t know if I’m okay with it. Because if I don’t blame that kid, taking into account the full truth of what he did, then that means…

… it means—

“You made a fire.”

I look up and Jackie is standing just a couple of feet away. I didn’t even notice her coming outside. I nod, and she stands there for a moment, her gaze skimming my features. Hell knows what she’s hoping to see there. Whatever it is, she’s likely going to be disappointed.

“Do you mind if I come sit?” she asks.

I keep my eyes on the fire.

“Sure.”

She walks over to the picnic table and sits on the bench next to me, parking her ass a good two feet away. Clearly, she’s picking up on my moody vibes.

We both sit in silence for a while, just watching the sparks popping and misting into the night. It’s nice: the quiet. Not having other campers around or crowds or music. The sky is a mix of a bunch of navys and purples, and you can see the stars really good out here. Thousands of them.

I could probably see the stars at home, too. It’s not like we live in a big city or anything. I just never took the time to look. But it feels different out here. It’s more peaceful. Less heavy, I guess.

I’m dying for a drink, though. Even worse than before. And I’m not even as stressed out as I was earlier. I hate to admit it, but that call with Richard calmed me down some. It stirred up a bunch of shit in my head, but not all of it in a bad way.

I look over at Jackie. She’s got her head tilted back now, and she’s looking up at the sky. I’m guessing she takes the time to notice the stars when she’s at home, too, though. The firelight casts a warm glow across her face and honest-to-God, this girl is stunning. I don’t know why it wasn’t the first thing I noticed when I first saw her a few days ago in her camper. My senses were clouded with liquor, I guess. Also, I was jolted awake by her high-pitched scream. And then informed I was in an entirely different state.

I stare at her a while longer. And then:

“There’s something I need to tell you,” I say, surprising even myself.

But it’s wrong that I’ve been keeping the truth to myself for this long. I need to just come out and tell her.

Jax turns to look at me, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Her eyes are round; her full attention on me.

“Okay…” she says. “What is it?”

She has no idea what this might be about. She definitely isn’t expecting anything close to what I’m about to tell her.

Only I can’t bring myself to say it now. Maybe because of the way she’s looking at me, like she’s expectant but not weary. Because she’s so fuckinggood. And always so trusting. Even with an asshole like me.

I take a breath.

“It’s about… It’s uh,” I stall, my words stockpiling in my throat. “Shit… Sorry. I just… I can’t.”

She keeps looking back at me, her eyes even wider. Which I didn’t think was possible. And now she does look concerned. Which is probably good: sheshouldbe concerned. She needs to be prepared for the fact that what I’m about to tell her is going to be bad. And it’s going to change the way she feels about me.

“Is it… Is everything okay?” she asks with that same cautious voice Richard uses with me. “Did something happen or…”

“No.” I comb my fingers roughly through my hair. “No, it’s not— it’s not something that happened.” I pause. “I mean, yeah. It is. But it’s not something recently… It’s something I need to tell you. That I should have said before.”

I tear my eyes away and look back at the fire. “It’s something I should have told you years ago. After what happened… With our parents.”

“Okay…”

I jump to my feet, unable to sit still any longer. I’m regretting that I brought this up now. I want a drink so badly.

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