Page 51 of One Last Chance

Chapter 19

It would have beenreal easy to prove her wrong. I knew exactly where the cash was buried. I could have brought it to her that night. Somehow, though, I didn’t think that would change anything. Daisy wasn’t pissed at me for not making enough money. She was pissed at me for—hell, I didn’t know. From where I stood, it seemed like she was pissed at me for being in the situation that I was in. Like it was my fault.

I wondered for a while if she did think I killed Hunter, somewhere way down deep in her mind that she wasn’t even allowing herself to reach. A sick urge to force a confession out of her nearly strangled me. I would have walked her back home just to make sure she made it, but I knew I couldn’t hold my tongue if I did.

I watched her from the top of the hill until the light went out in her bedroom, fighting the urge to follow her. The argument reminded me of all the fights Hunter and I got into before he died—arguments which had been unfortunately public, and which had sealed my fate as the police were already under the impression that a falling out between us was the cause of Hunter’s death.

“Maybe I’m just too restless for their whole damn family,” I muttered to myself.

I took off into the woods in the opposite direction from Daisy’s room, making for a spot that Hunter and I had never taken Daisy. We had both agreed—in one of the rare moments when we both agreed on everything—that she would be safer and more content if she didn’t know about the spot, or what it contained.

A layered fury overtook me no matter how quickly I moved. Fury at Daisy for not seeing that escape was my only option, and fury at Hunter for not listening to me when I told him the same thing six years before. We had the money, enough to get away and set up in a comfortable house in some other town. It hadn’t been enough for Hunter. He thought his only skills were cooking and dealing—completely discounting his ability to sell and sweet-talk people—and he didn’t want to start a drug ring in an unfamiliar city.

At the same time, though, he hadn’t wanted a short-term comfortable solution. No, Hunter was set on living large for a long time. When I’d done the math and shown him that we could buy a decent house in cash, on land, in a town big enough to offer opportunities, he’d laughed in my face. He wasn’t going to move out of one crappy house just to move into another, he’d said. No, he wanted a three-story mansion and flashy sport cars. He wanted to wear his wealth on his sleeve.

I would have been happy just to get away and own a piece of something. That was what I wanted, and I knew Daisy wanted the same. At least I thought she did. I was beginning to realize that I might not know her as well as I thought I did. Mexico seemed to be the only practical solution to our current problem. It would give her everything she wanted—dates in public, sex between the sheets, my freedom—a future. I couldn’t fathom why she was so against it, and it made me furious.

I let my feet wander wherever they pleased. I was too pissed off to make a plan, I just wanted to burn through the current and remembered frustration without taking it home with me. I took savage, immature pleasure in stomping fallen branches to pieces as I stormed through the underbrush.

I wasn’t a superstitious person, but I was as afraid as anyone to speak ill of the dead. Regardless, my fury roiled in my brain, and Hunter was at the eye of the storm. If he’d only let us leave when I said so, he’d still be alive and Daisy wouldn’t be trapped under their dad’s drunken, smelly thumb. If he hadn’t been so insistent upon hiding our fortune from his sister, she would have a little more faith in my ability to do what I said I could do.

My feet took me to a slight swell on the forest floor which overlooked a hollow filled with the charred remains of a massive spruce. The trunk curved protectively over a soft, green patch of earth. A ring of carefully placed stones circled that patch, nearly invisible after six years of undisturbed growth. We’d chosen the right place to hide our treasure, Hunter and I. I nodded grimly at the place and turned away, fighting against all the memories we shared here.

I had no reason to go in for the cash now. I still remembered exactly how much was hidden there, in the steel ammo safe tucked inside the plastic tackle box wrapped in a plastic bag. I remembered the combination to the ammo safe, could feel in my shoulders how far down the stash was buried, and even recalled how heavy the whole thing was. When the time came, I’d be ready to haul it away.

I was miles away from the motel now, and the long walk gave me plenty of time to think. Eventually I came to begrudging terms with the fact that Daisy was right—taking my money and running wouldn’t help. It would trap me—and her, if she decided to come with me—in whichever country we ended up in after crossing the border. It wouldn’t be fair to her. Hell, it wouldn’t be fair to me. Running off like that would be the ultimate confession of guilt.

No.

There was only one way to get out of here—I would have to clear my name.

It wasn’t until I was almost home that I realized I’d overlooked the greatest tool in my arsenal. Leroy. He knew everything abouteverybodyand wasn’t afraid to talk. If I could just get him relaxed enough to remember shit from six years ago, he might spill some little tidbit which would start me off in the right direction. I was a little too excited when I got back to the motel, completely forgetting the predicament I’d left Leroy in.

Unfortunately for me, he was already in bed, which was fine—he was probably still dealing with withdrawal anyway and would be in no mood to talk.

A few more steps took me up to my room and I can’t deny that by the time I got there, exhaustion had finally decided to rear its head. I flopped down on the mattress, leaning into the squeaking, but still thankful that I was in a place where I could rest my head without the smell of piss lifting my nostrils. Still, I wasn’t as thankful as I would have been given the opportunity to just move the fuck out of here, or at least share this worn out mattress with Daisy.

Daisy.

My mind spun. My heart sunk. Sometimes I wished it was easy to give her up. But that had never been the case and I knew, deep down, that it would never be. It boggled my mind, though. How the universe could connect us this way, but make things so damn hard all at the same time.

Closing my eyes, I tried to will myself to sleep. But all I could hear and all I could think about was the pain and the anger in her voice. That, and the fact that as old as we were, we were sneaking around like damn teenagers.

I couldn’t even fucking call her to apologize.

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