“Thank you,” she says.
I can’t even see where I’m walking from the tears that cloud my vision.
At Pete’s car, I’m surprised when Connor doesn’t take the wheel. He opens the door for me.
“Connor, I’m sorry.”
He’s not looking at me. “You’re driving.” He secures Hanna in the car seat in the back and sits in the passenger seat.
I sit behind the wheel. “What are you doing?”
“I’m not talking to you, Renne. Drive the car.”
I drive down the long driveway with a rock in my throat, heaviness in my heart, and tears that won’t stop pouring down my cheeks. “I’m sorry.”
“It is what it is.”
“I’m so sorry.” I sob.
“Stop crying. You can’t see to drive.” Connor rests his weapons on his lap. The SUV bearing his uncles ascends the driveway. I’m so scared, my teeth are chattering.
“Endo brought Scar. He won’t do shit. They wanted to talk, but I can’t let them, because if they say the wrong thing, I’ll kill them all. I would not feel good if I killed my uncle Cass. He’s like me.” Connor clears his throat. “A very rotten apple, but he did his best to raise me. Used to take me out of school and on the boats far out into the sea where we did nothing but fish for days. So I have to save everyone from myself when they can’t save themselves from themselves. Uncle Cass would say somethingdumb about you, and I’d have to shut him up. I’m trying. I really am.”
My foot shakes so hard that I can barely touch the gas pedal. The SUV slows to a crawl and the tinted windows roll down as the vehicles approach each other.
White-knuckled, I grip the wheel. “Are they going to gun us down?”
“No.”
“Why are they opening the windows?”
“They want to chat.”
A whine escapes me. I can’t speak to them. I can barely breathe.
The cars pass each other slowly, and I see him. The man from the yacht. His face looks the same as I remember it. Dark eyes, dark hair, grim expression. There’s a scar bisecting his eyelid that I don’t remember; otherwise, it’s him.
Time passes slowly. It’s like we’re in reverse time. All the memories rush at me, and I recall the nightmare from the yacht.
The group of us were dancing when the gunshots broke through the music. People screamed and panicked and, like a herd, tried to get below deck, but there was no place to go on the yacht, so we crowded together, me in the middle.
Like dominoes, they fell dead on the deck and buried me under a pile of their corpses. From there, with my head turned sideways, I had a clear line of sight and saw a man with long dark hair hiding behind the bar and shooting at everyone.
When he ran out of ammunition, he jumped into the sea.
Everything went quiet after that. I didn’t dare move for fear that there were gunmen on the yacht. But the vessel tilted, and the deck cracked. Water sloshed over my face, my nose, mouth. I closed my eyes and tried to think of what to do. I pushed at thebodies, but couldn’t get them off me. The only way out was to let the water lift the weight off me.
I had to wait for the yacht to sink and for me to nearly drown in order to try to save myself. We were sinking for at least an hour. I soiled myself multiple times, but I eventually managed to swim to shore and walk home. I lived alone, so nobody came to check on me for days. I tried to end my life twice. Failed both times. Eventually, my dad came. He took me to the hospital for treatment, not knowing what had happened to me.
That’s how we found out I was pregnant.
The SUV drives past us, and we get beyond the gate, but Connor seems alert still, looking around the car, and even above at the sky. I slow down by the spot on the road where Connor ate me out.
“You remember what we did here?” I sniff.
“I remember everything.”
“I’m sorry, Con. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I wanted to protect Hanna.”