As I start walking, she begins to scream. “Brandon! No!”
I stop momentarily to pull my Zippo from my pocket and light a cig. The first drag is the best, but the rest feel bitter and shallow. Like the drags don’t do anything for me anymore.
Then I continue walking.
I can hear her bang her head against the bumper, but she’s not going anywhere as her wrists are tightly bound to the car. It’d be a miracle if she escaped, so I’m sure I can safely go away for a while. At least until I’ve cleared my head.
“Brandon! Get back here right now!” she yells, stomping her heels on the soil. “Untie me!”
It’s hard to leave her like that, but what else can I do? If I untie her, she’ll run off.
“Don’t you fucking leave me here alone!” she adds.
But there’s nothing else I can do. Right now, I can’t stay with her. I can’t look her in the eyes. Not without feeling like a complete failure.
I’ve failed everyone who entered my life. My papa. My uncle. Even her.
All this time, I thought she caused my papa’s death, that she picked up my Zippo and gave it to her brothers, but she says she didn’t, and for some reason, I don’t think she’s lying. She has no reason to.
But then how would the Zippo end up at my papa’s shop?
And why that fucking note?
It must’ve been someone close to my papa, or at least someone who knew the Burrells. But my papa never hurt a fly, and he didn’t deserve to die. Not like that.
And if I hadn’t left my Zippo where I did, he would’ve been alive today.
At least, that’s what I assume because if not … I probably wouldn’t be able to live with myself either way, knowing his death was in vain.
All my life, I’ve searched for a meaning. A purpose. And when she stumbled back into my world, I thought I found one: vengeance.
Except things aren’t turning out to be so easy after all.
Do I even have a right to vengeance when I did something horrible too?
Because if she’s right about her brothers … if they didn’t kill my papa, then I’m responsible for the death of two innocent boys. I wasn’t the one to slice their throat, but I made the call. I put my uncle on their tracks. I could’ve reported it to the police. I could’ve done a lot of things, but I didn’t.
And for that, I’ll be forever to blame.
And I won’t hold it against her if she hates me forever.
But now I finally understand. Why she had this unquenchable thirst to murder me in my sleep. Why she wished I wasn’t ever in her life to begin with.
As she said, I’ve ruined everything.
I destroy everything I touch, including her.
And fuck me, right now, that hurts more than anything.
Sighing, I make my way up a small mountain path and sit down against the hard stone, watching the horizon from afar. It’ll be a long time before dawn, but I won’t get any rest.
My mind has to be clear for that, and right now, it’s cloudier than ever.
But my heart … fuck, my heart is bleeding.
I thought mine had shriveled up and died, but Dixie coming back into my life brought back feelings I thought were buried long ago. Something untouchable. Something I can’t explain. A longing that goes unanswered.
I can feel it deep down inside me, the need to claim her and never let go. To kiss her and ruin her and do everything I ever wanted to do to her body. And then when I’m done with her, I’ll do it all over again and again.
Because that’s just it. Even though I fucking hate her sometimes, I still can’t get enough of her. Physically, I’m away, but mentally … I’m still right there with her.
That has to mean something. I just don’t know what.
It’s not right.
I have no right to her.
Especially not if everything she says is true.
Should I let her go?
Should I go search for my papa’s real killers?
Or should I let her kill me after all?
Fuck me, I don’t know anything anymore.
Shaking my head, I blow out another breath and fumble in my pockets to take out another cig. Man, I’ll probably go through my entire stash before the night is over.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Dixie
I keep screaming, but my voice disappears into the wind.
Brandon is long gone and so is my hope for being untied.
Now I’m stuck here in front of a car, praying to God that fucking coyotes don’t eat me alive.
Fuck.
I hate that he put me here just so he can walk off while ignoring me. What the hell is he thinking, keeping me contained? He knows I’m innocent. I saw the realization and the regret in his eyes. All of it probably became a little too much for him to handle, so he just walked off and left me here all by myself. Alone. In the wide-open desert.
Great.
As if things weren’t going badly enough already.
First, I let him fuck me like some animal, and my body betrays me by actually enjoying it. And then when the truth finally comes out, I’m still being held captive.
It’s as if the world hates me or something.
No, just Brandon Locklear right now.
Why can’t he just face the goddamn truth and let me go like he’s supposed to? I didn’t do anything wrong, and he knows it. How long is he gonna leave me here? Until I die?
Fuck no. I’m not letting that happen.
Besides, I have a responsibility to my dad. I went to that casino hotel for a reason. My mission failed, but that doesn’t mean I can’t try again. I just have to recoup and revise my plan. This time without bumping into fucking Brandon Locklear.
I assume his uncle won’t let him back in either, considering how he saved my ass. His uncle must be pissed off at him. I can imagine it’s a tough spot to be in, torn between family and … past love.
Sighing, I stare at my own two feet, wondering if I could’ve said something else to keep him from walking off. Part of me wanted him to leave me the fuck alone, but not when it comes at the expense of my freedom. Another part of me desperately wants him to stay.