“Oh I’m not picky, head, clean exit, you know, the usual.”
“So you want to look good for the funeral? Cool.” Tex sounded frighteningly excited about being able to end my life. Then again, he’d been waiting for years, ever since I basically made him believe I’d slept with his wife before they were together, but Tex had never been good at forgiving old wounds, no matter how happy he currently was.
“Nobody is killing anybody,” Nixon said in a calm voice. “Look, Sergio, have you thought maybe about… more finesse in this situation?”
“Hah!” Trace burst out laughing. “Oh, sorry, sweetheart, go ahead, talk to Sergio all about finesse, I’m all ears.”
I couldn’t help but grin. Nixon was the last person who should be talking about any sort of romance. The man thought with his gun first. Always first.
“Look, it was a mistake calling you guys. I just…” I didn’t finish what I was going to say; maybe the silence was all it took to get the message across.
Because at the end of the day, they were family.
When Andi died.
The guys had cried with me.
When I needed help with the funeral, they jumped at the chance to make sure I had everything I needed.
And when I didn’t want to get out of bed, it was Phoenix who kicked my ass and told me to go for a run.
Without them, I probably would be dead.
Because I already felt halfway dead, and they’d done everything in their power to breathe new life back into me.
“Thanks,” I finally said. “I think I’ll just keep powering through.”
“Maybe.” Nixon sighed. “Try not pulling a gun on a girl who isn’t used to violence.”
“No violence.” Tex cackled. “Does he even understand how to use words?”
“Very funny.” I rolled my eyes. “All right, I’m going to go face the firing squad also known as the Alfero uncles. Wish me luck.”
“Those bastards are big dudes, don’t let the limping fool you,” Tex added.
“Could have used that advice yesterday when I nearly got taken out by all three, thanks for the help!”
“You got in a fight!” Chase whined. “It’s so boring here.”
“Yeah, well…” I glanced back up at the brick building. “At least you aren’t being forced to marry a child.”
“I married Mil, so….” He didn’t finish. I assumed she hit him in the balls.
Laughing with them for first time in a while, I hung up the phone and reached for the screen door, only to have it open before I had a chance.
“You have a horrible habit of eavesdropping.” I slid my phone into my pocket and crossed my arms while Val glared.
“And you have a bad habit of constantly telling others how much you hate me.”
“It’s not hate,” I fired back. “Believe me, I know hate. You have absolutely no idea what that word even means, so I’d appreciate if you didn’t use it as if you did.”
“I hate you,” she said it softly. “I really do.”
“No, you don’t.” I reached for her, but she pulled back. “Your feelings are just hurt, maybe your pride, but you’ll get over it.”
“You’re right.” She shook her head. “You suck with words.”
I smiled. “We get married in less than two days. You have two more days of freedom.”
“And what will I have with you?” Val asked. “A prison sentence?”
“A life with me?” I looked down as the anger resurfaced, because she was right to hate me, even though she had no clue how much a human could hate something — I hated cancer, I could never hate a person, no matter how much I tried, I hated things that destroyed people, not the person itself.
Humanity was too frail.
To hate.
And it bothered me, that she flippantly tossed something around without realizing the power behind its intensity — its truth.
She was young.
Na?ve.
But who was I to judge her hatred?
No one.
Just her future husband.
“Two days,” I said it again, maybe for both of us. “And then you’re mine, and this whole hate business? It ends then.”
“Says who?”
I took a threatening step in her direction and reached toward my jacket, I didn’t pull my gun, but the threat was there. “I say.”
Her lower lip trembled.
Shit. Old habits really died hard.
With a cry she shoved past me and ran up the stairs to her bedroom, the door slammed, knocking a picture onto the floor by my feet.
One step forward.
Twenty steps back.
Because of my inability to connect the hurt, the pain, the confusion, the anxiety, I couldn’t link the feelings and make sense of them.
So I defaulted.
To what did.
My numbness.
My anger.
And for the first time that afternoon… I once again felt the sweet comfort of nothing.
Only this time…
I hated it.
Hate.
A strong word.
Too strong for my lips.
And just like that, I thought of Andi and her inability to hate anything, even the ugly.
Because to her, even the ugly was beautiful.