I hold out my pinkie and a relieved chuckle comes out of her. She tangles pinkies with me, but her brows are still down. I take my finger back and write. Gotta go.
“Hot date with the Italian Stallion?” She knocks her hip into mine and I smile. “Ooh you do have a date. I’ll bet he’s a machine in bed. Am I right?”
I jab her with my elbow, but I’m laughing. I waggle my brows to let her know it’s true.
“I knew it! I need to find me a dangerous man. I’m so sick of these pasty-faced musician-boys.”
I ignore the unease the word dangerous inspires.
But she’s right. Tony is a dangerous man. Why, then, does being with him make me feel safer than I’ve felt in years?
Tony
It’s insane, Pepper writes. We’re standing at the overlook, staring down at the giant, toilet bowl structure of the Hoover Dam.
“I know, right?” Something about the enormity of the concrete formation makes your stomach drop.
It’s horrifying.
I chuckle. “Yeah, I guess it is.” Built into the beautiful red rock face of Black Canyon and capturing the clear blue water of the Colorado River, the dam changed the very forces of nature.
My parents showed up today, she writes on her notepad.
I scratch my face. I’ve been waiting for her to tell me what my security guys had already reported. “Yeah, I heard. Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
She shakes her head, disgust marring her features. It’s a pain in my ass. They don’t think Hugh should stay fired.
I have to work to unclench my fists because I still think the man deserves a beat-down. And because her parents are on my shit list too. But this isn’t my business and she has enough people telling her what to do.
“Parents are by nature a pain in the ass.”
A smile flickers over her face. Is your mom?
“Ugh, God. Don’t get me started. The woman won’t leave the house. She’s a slave to my stepdad and she’s totally miserable, but won’t let me do anything to change things for her.”
Because I’ve already done enough.
Pepper lays her small hand on my arm and squeezes. I cradle her head with one hand and lean down to kiss her. I’m not sure how I managed to win her affection, but I treasure every moment while it lasts. I’m not under any delusions of keeping her.
She picks up her pen again. What about your dad? She looks up at me, the autumn sun making her squint.
“Dead.” My voice is hard.
She looks down at the pad. Is that a good thing?
“Yeah. He was an abusive prick. He beat my mom and me, probably would’ve killed one of us if—” I stop. I don’t even know why I’m telling her. I never talk about this. But it’s Pepper, and the desire to let her in, to get even closer than we have shoves me forward.
If what?
I swallow. Once I tell her, she’ll know what I am. I mean know, without a shadow of a doubt, that I’m a monster. I tainted my soul at a very young age. She’ll push me away, as she has every time I’ve let her see that side of me. And then it will be over.
But keeping it from her?
Feels like a bitter lie. And I’ve never been a liar.
I stare out at the glittering blue water. I can’t look at her for this. “I was fourteen. I couldn’t get my ma to leave him—she was too scared. And things were getting worse. His drinking was worse. The episodes more frequent. He was less sorry afterward. So, I figured I’d better man up and do something.”
I don’t dare look at Pepper, but I feel her eyes on me, wide and riveted. I think she’s holding her breath.
“I went to Don Tacone. I was friends with Nico from school, and everyone knew who his dad was. I told him my problem and asked him for a gun. I don’t know what I thought—that I’d threaten my dad with it the next time and he’d back down. Don Tacone gave me the gun. Took me to a shooting range and showed me how to use it. Made me practice until I had it down.”
Pepper reaches for my arm again. Her fingers tighten around the cords of taut muscles.
“And a few weeks later I came home to find my dad straddling my mom, punching her in the face. I ran for the gun. I told him to get off her. He didn’t back down. I guess he didn’t think I’d do it. So when he came after me, I shot him.”
My mom’s bloodied, horrified face swims before my eyes. “My ma screamed, Tony, what have you done? After all that, she didn’t want him dead. I don’t think she’s ever forgiven me. She continues to pray for my soul.” I give a humorless laugh.