Page 70 of Wreckage of Us
I have a bad feeling about it but decide to trust her. She knows more about all this mess than I do, and if Dylan trusted her to be with me when he’s not around, I have to trust that as well.
We get in the car, and she pulls out of the garage.
“Did you tell Malone we’re leaving?” I check one more time for my piece of mind.
“I sent him a text,” Arlene informs me, and we’re rolling down the long driveway that’s taking us to the road. “What do you feel like eating?” she asks once we’re merged into traffic.
“Uh, I’m not sure,” I rub at my belly nervously. I sort of thought Dylan and I could have a romantic dinner tonight. That’d be followed by me telling him that I loved him, opening the envelope with the picture of my ultrasound, then the best sex of our lives. Hanging out with his mom is kinda killing my vibe.
“Steak?” she asks helpfully.
“That sounds good…” My phone dinging in my purse distracts me. “Oh, it’s Dylan again,” I smile at the screen. “He says to hurry home.” I frown at my phone. The way the message is worded seems off somehow, but before long, we are on my street, and once my house comes into view, I see Dylan’s truck parked in the driveway. I instantly relax at the sight.
All of a sudden, a loud boom echoes in the neighborhood, shaking the ground under Arlene’s truck. That’s followed by smoke that seems to be coming from… my back yard?
“What the hell is he doing?” Arlene shakes her head with amusement.
“Is this normal?” My eyes are sure to be bugging out of my head.
“Sometimes,” she laughs. I take her word for it and jump out of the car, then rush to the front door, surprised to find it unlocked. He’s been religiously checking the locks.
I pop the door open and step inside. As soon as I do, I can tell something is wrong.
“Dylan,” I call out. “We’re home. Something happened in the back yard, there’s smoke, and… oh my god,” I gasp in shock at what I see. Dylan is rolling on the ground with a man. He looks older but almost just as tall as Dylan.
“Fuck,” Arlene explodes from behind me. “I left my bag with my gun in the car.” She turns around, presumably to go get it.
I watch in horror as a gun seems to be discharging, but I can’t tell if it is Dylan that’s hurt or the other man.
“Dylan,” I gasp in shock when I see him lifting his head and looking down at his chest. There is no doubt in my mind that he’s been shot. There’s a large stain forming on his sweatshirt that’s indubitably blood. Shit, I need to do something.
Something catches my eye right under the couch. A baseball bat. I think it’s Ben’s. Colton’s friend loves baseball and plays it as much as he can in spite of being a dedicated football player and also to his father’s dismay. He must’ve left it here the last time he visited. I need that bat.
I am just about to bend down to retrieve it when the voice of the man who quite possibly killed the love of my life speaks to me.
“Ah, Becca Garner,” he chokes out through coughing fits. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you…”
“Dylan’s father,” it suddenly dawns on me when I take him in more carefully.
“The one and only,” he opens one arm out. He doesn’t seem to have much mobility in his other one. “At least as far as I know. I married a whore so what should I have expected, right?”
“A whore who’s going to kill you dead, Bricks,” Arlene’s firm voice calls from behind me. She takes a few steps forward, the shock evident on her face when she takes in Dylan’s inert form on the ground.
“One down, one to go, right, Arlene?” Bricks laughs at her when he notices where she’s looking. “I can’t wait to see Wyatt. He owes me one.”
“I am going to kill you,” she speaks through gritted teeth. “Slowly,” she adds. “I want you to suffer.”
I stay quiet, hoping that the more they talk, he’ll just forget about me. My plan is to grab that baseball bat and bash him upside the head with it.
Unfortunately, another man walks in through the sliding door just as I think I should go for it. He is older, probably same age as Bricks. He carries a rifle and is dressed in military fatigues.
“Ah, you got them both,” he snickers, his shrewd eyes going from me to Arlene. “Which one can I fuck first, Prez?” he elbows Bricks jokingly.
“You stay away, Snake,” Arlene’s hand is not so steady all of a sudden.
“Arlene,” Snake smirks at her. “Why the drama? You and I had some really good times, didn’t we?”
“If by good times,” Arlene spits out, “you mean you raping me in front of my husband who was cheering you on, then yes.”
