Page 82 of Dirty Hit
I actually feel my jaw drop at the blatant bullshit he’s spewing; because no, he doesn’t. My Devil is an atheist.
Dad’s eyes soften. “Good to hear,” he says. “It’s easy to drift at college.”
There’s a little more small talk. They ask about classes, and I recite sanitized versions of my schedule. They ask Dominic about football, and he gives them practiced answers about discipline, teamwork, and leadership. My mom actually asks if he’s dating anyone.
The whole time, my brain is spinning.
“Maybe you can bring Dominic down for a Sunday sometime,” my mom suggests at one point. “Our church would love to have a guest like you.”
The church would explode, Mom.
Dominic doesn’t even blink. “That’s very kind. If I’m ever in town, I’ll take you up on it.”
I make a mental note to set the whole state on fire before that ever happens.
Jericho jumps up on the back of the couch and stares at me, like he knows exactly what’s happening and is delighted by the chaos.
Eventually, my mom glances at the time and gasps. “Oh, we have to go,” she says. “Traffic to the hotel’s going to be awful, and your aunt will have a fit if we’re late for the rehearsal dinner.”
My dad shakes my hand, pulls me into a brief half-hug, then turns to Dominic. “It was good meeting you, son,” he says, clapping him on the shoulder. “You keep letting him help youwith those grades, alright? And try not to concuss yourself before the draft.”
Dominic laughs. “Yes, sir. I’ll do my best.”
“I’m glad you came,” I say, and I realize that it’s mostly true. I just wish they’d called.
Mom cups my face briefly, thumb brushing my cheek like she used to when I was sick.
“You look good,” she says. “Tired, but good. You’re eating?”
“I’m feeding him,” Dominic says easily. “At least while we’re studying. Caffeine and pasta. He doesn’t get a say.”
Dad smiles. “Good man. Keep him in line.”
If either of you knew how much he does, I’d be excommunicated,my brain screams.
And then, mercifully, they’re gone.
I close the door behind them and lean my forehead against it, listening to their footsteps fade down the hall. My hands are shaking, my heart’s racing, and my brain feels like there’s twenty tabs open and no one is in charge.
“Well,” Dominic say, “that was fucking wild.”
A hysterical laugh bubbles up, and I clap a hand over my mouth to stop it. “They just—they just showed up. They’re not supposed to ever be here. They’re—they saw you. They—”
“Brendon—”
“They asked about church,” I keep going, words spilling. “And you answered. You.. you lied for me.”
“I edited,” he says. “I didn’t lie.”
“They love you,” I say weakly. “They already love you. They brought a casserole.”
He huffs a laugh. “I’m very lovable. Haven’t you heard?”
I make a noise that might be a laugh, might be a sob.
“I’m going to die,” I say into the wood. “That’s how this ends. God’s going to smite me right here, in front of the chicken and rice bake.”
He snorts. “If he was going to smite you, he had plenty of chances. I think you’re safe for tonight.”
