Page 47 of Whiskey Shivers

“Anything,” I said.

He was quiet for a moment then cupped my good shoulder with his hand and without letting me turn to look at him, he asked me, “If there was a way to shut the whole thing down… the trial I mean, would you want that?”

I snorted and said, “God yes. I hope you don’t think badly of me, but I really wish he was dead. I feel like it’s the only surefire way he’d never hurt anyone again.” I sighed.

“I don’t think badly of you at all for that. I wish I’d killed him when I had the chance.”

“You thought you were beating a fourteen-year-old kid,” I said.

“Now it’s your turn to think badly of me. I tried. Believe me. Only reason I really stopped was because you were bleedin’ so bad and I didn’t want to lose you.” He kissed my shoulder, and I leaned back into him.

“I don’t think badly of you at all. How could I? You saved me.” I closed my eyes and said, “I wish I could remember. I feel like I’m letting the world down that I don’t. Like if I only remembered, it would remove all doubt and… well…”

We lapsed into a silence, the both of us thinking so hard and so loud it was like if I reached out, I could maybe touch his thoughts like gossamer hanging in the air and likewise, I was sure the same applied to me.

“I’m going to ask you again,” he said after a time, and his voice was steady and had a gravity to it that made me think I had better think long and hard about my answer before I gave it.

“If something could be done to shut down this whole trial, would you want that?”

I didn’t have to hesitate at all. “Yes,” I said unequivocally.

“You know what I’m askin’, don’t you?” he asked.

“If I am to understand things correctly,” I said. “This falls under ‘club business’ yeah?”

“Alina’s been talkin’,” he said but he sounded pleased.

I turned carefully and looked up into his eyes.

“If you’re asking me to sign the death warrant on the man who attacked me, do you just want ink or blood? Because I’m good with either, Hex. I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to have to march into that courtroom day after day and listen to the lies and the bullshit all in a bid to get him off. I don’t want to have to run the gauntlet of reporters asking me questions about this thing I can’t remember and honestly hope to every god that there ever was that I never do. I don’t want to watch the sordid true crime documentaries about me, and I don’t want this one thing becoming my whole life. This one moment in time, arguably one of the worst things to ever happen to me, become my everything for any length of time. I’m scared to death that my legacy won’t be the students I’ve helped, or that I’ve inspired. That it will be this – this – thisthingthat happened to me. I can’t tell you how much I don’t want it to be.”

“Say no more, Fable,” he said, pressing my head to his lips then to his chest. “It won’t be. I promise you. But this conversation never happened. Okay?”

“What conversation?” I asked somewhat miserably.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured.

He carefully pulled me down into the bed with him and we cuddled close beneath the blanket, cozy and warm in the air-conditioned hush of his little house, the ceiling fan turning lazily above us from where it was suspended from the vaulted ceiling.

I honestly didn’t believe that anything could or would be done to stop my having to go through any of the things that I was sure was to come surrounding my case. The nice thing was that I didn’t have to think about it anymore for now. For now, I could just lie safe and warm and protected with Hex, until the morning came, and he had to go back to work and all of that.

I still had no idea what life was going to look like from here, but I could live it one day at a time for now, like I was taking toddling little baby steps. It was nice to have Hex to hold on to. He was a level of security that I’d honestly never known before.

CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO

Hex…

I didn’t know why I’d felt the need to… I don’t know,get permissionfrom my Fable when it came to the asshole who’d hurt her. Maybe it was because I wasn’t sure if she still had faith in the system or whatever. Maybe I was second-guessing whether she’d want her day in court. At any rate, the decision had already been made yesterday in church, before she and I had even had the chance to talk. The plan had been laid, too. Now it was just a matter of getting through the week to put it into action.

I got up the next morning and I felt bad about having to leave her. But it was a Monday morning, and another day, another dollar needed to be made – for now, anyhow. Didn’t know how much longer that would be a viable option once I got done doing what had to be done.

I kissed her goodbye, pulling the blankets up over her to make sure she was warm enough, and she barely stirred.

I left the coffee pot on and set out her meds in a shot glass next to a bowl of instant oatmeal. She just needed to add some hot water.

The day dragged, and I texted back and forth with her when I could. She said she was spending the day curled up in bed, reading, and I liked the thought.

The day dragged on by, and when I came home, it was an odd feeling sitting out there in my truck, knowing for the first time ever that I had someone I was coming hometo.

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