Page 473 of Summer Heat
I brush my hair back as I glance from right to left. There’s a group of guys on the steps of an old brick house across the street and on its mailbox is 147.
I cross the street after passing them, so I’m on the odd-numbered side. The block before this was numbered in the two hundreds. So one more block.
The adrenaline pumps in my blood and I finger the gun inside my jacket pocket.
I have to will away the thoughts of Addison, no matter how much they cling to me and plague me every waking second.
My father taught us all to pay attention. Distractions are what get you killed.
A huff of a laugh leaves me at the memory of his lesson.
I guess when you don’t care if you live or die, the severity of his words don’t send pricks down your skin like they did when you were a child.
Tyler wasn’t with me that day. I wonder if my father ever bothered to give Tyler that advice. Addison was as big of a distraction to him as she was to me.
With the tragic memories threatening to destroy me, I halt in my tracks, realizing I wasn’t even looking at the numbers.
And I happened to stop right at 55. The mailbox is only two steps away.
The cold metal door of the mailbox opens with a creak. The sound travels in the tense air and the inside appears dark and empty. I dare to reach inside and pull out only an unmarked envelope. Nothing else.
My forehead pinches as I consider it. It’s thin and looks as if it’s not even carrying anything. But it’s sealed and this is the right address.
All of this for one little envelope.
Slamming the door to the mailbox shut, I walk a few blocks, grippin
g the envelope in my hand and looking for a bus stop.
I text my brother even though I don’t want to. I don’t want him to know it’s done. That I have what he’s been waiting for. It’s just an envelope.
It’s marked as read almost immediately and he responds just as quickly.
Good. Come back home.
Staring at his text, that pit in my stomach grows. I’m frozen to the cement sidewalk, knowing I have to leave and hating that fact.
I know I need to move and not stay here, lingering when Marcus will be watching. But with the phone staring back at me with no new messages or missed calls, the compulsive habit of calling Addison takes over.
The phone rings and rings and goes to her voicemail.
I haven’t stopped trying and I don’t intend to.
I stayed as long as I could outside her door. I listened to her cry until she had nothing left. I don’t know if I should have tried to talk to her and made her aware that I was still there wanting to comfort her, or if it would have only made her angrier.
A heavy burden weighs on my chest as I slip the envelope into my jacket, careful to fold it down the center and keep moving in the night.
I have no choice but to take this back to Carter. There’s no way I can stay.
For the first time in a long time, I feel trapped. Suffocated by what’s coming.
I can’t leave her again.
I can’t watch her walk away, and I can’t leave her either.
But it was never my choice.
It’s always been hers.
