Page 472 of Summer Heat
“Get. Out.” I can’t look at him as he stares at me, waiting for me to say something else.
“Addison-”
“Out!” I yell as loud as I can. So hard my throat screams with pain and my heart hurts.
Even over my rushing blood I hear each of his footsteps as he walks away from me.
“You said you wouldn’t leave me,” Daniel grits between his teeth as he stands on the threshold of my door.
The words leave me as I slam the door shut in his face. “I lied.”
Chapter 22
Daniel
The heavy pit in my stomach is why I don’t give people a damn piece of myself. That sick feeling that I swear is never going to go away is why I play it close to the vest.
I thought she was different.
I close my eyes, swallowing although my throat is tight and listening to the busy traffic on Lincoln Street. I’m close to the address Marcus gave me. Close to being done with this town and having no reason to stay.
It’s only when the street quiets that I open my eyes and force myself to move forward. Going through with the motions.
She is different. She does know better. She knows who and what I am.
She just doesn’t want to accept it.
And how can I really blame her? I don’t want to accept it either. I didn’t even get to tell her all of the truth. I didn’t get to take her pain away from thinking she’s to blame.
And that makes everything that much harder to swallow.
Passing a corner liquor store, I make sure I track the movements of the few people scattered around me. I keep to myself, heading south down the street. It’s late and only the moon and streetlights illuminate the road ahead of me. But dark is good when you don’t want to be seen.
I try to focus, but with the quiet of the night, I can’t help but to think of Addison. She’s always comforted me in the darkness.
I finally had her. Really had her. I felt what I always knew there could be between us. And I let her get away. I lost her by confessing.
Maybe that’s why it hurts this fucking bad. She loved who I am, but hates what I’ve done. And there’s no way I can take it back.
She saw the truth of what I was, but I could have sworn she knew it all along.
Maybe I should have just hinted at it. And let her ask if she wanted to know more.
You can’t change the past. If anyone knows that fact all too well, it’s me.
Give her time. I close my eyes, remembering the advice I gave Tyler once. If only it was that easy.
The chill in the autumn air is just what I need as I steady my pace with my hands in my jacket pockets. The metal of the gun feels cold against my hand as I glance from house number to house number.
55 West Planes. In the mailbox.
That’s what Marcus said. Simple instructions. But an easy setup if he’s planning one.
They say he’s a man with no trace, no past, and nothing to use against him. A ghost. A man who doesn’t exist.
He knows everything and only tells you what he wants when he wants to deliver it. But he’s a safe in-between for people like us to use. Because if Marcus tells you something, it’s because he wants you to know it.
And that’s a good thing, unless he wants you dead.
