Page 45 of After We Fall

“Please come back to the ranch. There’s a place for you. You’ll be safe. There are . . . possibilities for your future.”

And just like that, Finley’s face screws up with hardened defiance.

Wait. What did I do? What did I say? Panic hammers my heart. I have to fix this.

“Possibilities? Whose possibilities, Penelope? Yours? Meredith’s?” The tears that threatened to spill only a few seconds earlier are replaced with an obstinate stare. “You hide behind your judgment and act like you have all the answers. How come you get to be all holier-than-thou? What has that gotten you? You’re completely alone.”

Each word pummels my heart, but my body remains still.

“That’s what you want for me?” she asks. “Your pitiful, lonely life? No thank you.”

My mind scrambles, searching for anything that might keep her in my presence, that might redeem this and allow her to come back to me. My rising panic blurts something I know nothing about and cannot promise. “What if I can also help Marcus?”

She wrenches back, almost in horror. “Oh, so now you’re going to save Marcus too? What is it with you? Just because someone doesn’t do life the way you think they should doesn’t mean they’re wrong.”

I cringe. What have I done? “That’s not what I mean. I just—”

“Then what do you mean, Penelope?”

“The ranch has connections. People who can help him. Mentor him.” My hands tremble as I state possibilities on the fly that I hope are true. “Maybe find better work for him.”

She gnaws on the edge of her thumbnail, and I hope that means her wheels are spinning. Over the last few months, Finley has voiced concerns about Marcus’s possibly shady vocations. Maybe I can lure her back to the ranch with the prospect of getting Marcus a better job. A legal job. A safe job. For him and for Finley.

“But he hates you,” she says.

I nod. “Yes. Yes, that’s probably true. I think we just got off on the wrong foot. I can change that. Apologize to him. Make it right.”

“I don’t know if he’ll even talk to anyone associated with the ranch.”

I release a relieved breath. Good. Okay. At least we’re entertaining the idea. We’re headed the right direction. “I think we could have a conversation with him in whatever way might make him feel most comfortable.”

“Finley, babe, who are you talking to?” A low voice sounds from the parking lot.

Finley’s eyes widen, but she recovers quickly to mask her surprise. In its place is an eerily blank face on a girl who typically exudes expression from her pores.

Marcus comes into view. By the looks of his hair, he hasn’t showered since the last time I saw him. To accompany his baggy jeans, he wears a ratty long-sleeve waffle shirt covered by a dark red flannel shirt with its sleeves cut off. He slips between two parked cars to saunter onto the curb and hook his arm around Finley’s shoulders. With one look my way, he recognizes me and throws a grotesquely insulting name in the space between us.

Alarm bells clang in my head, and I rub the scar at my left eyebrow. If Marcus doesn’t kill me, then Luke will gladly sign up for the job. I should not have approached Finley alone.

Marcus clutches Finley’s shoulder, turning her into him, his fierce face inches from hers. “I thought I told you not to talk to her.”

My eyes dart between them. “Marcus, I think we got off on the wrong foot.”

He turns toward me and puffs out his chest. His nostrils flare.

The weight of his glower bears down, suffocating me. My chest rises and falls with its effort to find oxygen’s relief.

“Marcus.” I clear the fear from my throat. “I was—I was wondering, would you b-b-be interested in a job at the ranch?” Harlan’s going to kill me. But I can’t help it. I’m just spouting anything that might sound remotely intriguing to Marcus. Or at the very least anything that could distract his aggression. “I know the foreman and could arrange a meeting—”

“Unbelievable.” The word drips with burning incredulity. “You wanna save me too? That’s fresh.” He prowls one step toward me.

The putrid smells of cigarettes and my own terror assault my senses. “No.” My eyes widen, and I put out a placating hand. “No, I don’t want to save you. I just want to help. Job security is often hard to come by and—”

“Job security?” He flashes a smile that, at the root of all it offers, can only be described as evil. “Oh yeah. I’ve got job security. Everybody wants what I have.”

This conversation is sliding from bad to terrible quicker than I know how to handle.

His dark aura transitions from evil to sinister, he loses the smile, and his face turns to stone. “Listen to me, Penny Lady. Because I’m only going to say this once. I don’t need you. Finley doesn’t need you. You come anywhere near us again, I have no problem making myself more clear with you.”