Sunken Graves Alan Lee (reading e books .txt) 📖

“I believe you but I’m staying anyway. You’ve become important to me, Daniel.”

He was moving on autopilot, getting into bed. He fell asleep the second after he’d pulled up his covers. Hathaway lowered into the chair next to his bed and placed a hand on his shoulder.

She cast her eyes back to the bizarre weapon in the corner. Jennings’ apartment was exceptionally neat, except for that area. Murray had located shotgun shells in his drawer and taken them with him. Just in case.

What would he have done with such a short gun anyway?

51

Byron Horton was sitting at the kitchen table when Hathaway returned home that evening. Her emotional guard came up immediately but she was exhausted, like a boxer in the twelfth round.

“What’s wrong?” she said.

Byron held a fizzing glass of Pepsi. “Nothing. I’m packed up, kid.”

“Oh. You’re done?”

“Surprise, right?”

“Are you leaving now?”

“Tomorrow, if that’s okay. Or after the weekend.”

“Tomorrow is fine,” she said. “What can I do?”

“Nothing.”

“What about your clothes?”

“I hauled them to a storage unit today.”

Skeptically she peered down the hall. “I’ll wash your dirty—”

“I already did. Washed and dried and packed.”

“The master bath?”

“I got my stuff out. And scrubbed my sink.”

“You had boxes in the spare bedroom,” she said.

“Gone.”

“The basement is a disaster area. I’ll help down there.”

“Most of it’s already hauled. Got a few boxes left for tomorrow. The TV, my guitar, the XBox, stuff like that.”

“Wow, Byron.”

A lopsided grin. “I know. First time I’ve been an adult in a long while. And it’s too late.” He patted the table. “Sit down for a minute.”

She did. Perched on the edge of the chair, wary, ready to leave if he grew emotional or cruel.

“Listen, Hathaway. Daisy. I know I screwed this up. This’s on me and I own it. I’m sorry I got mad.”

Some of the starch in her spine softened. She searched his eyes for sincerity. “That’s okay. We were both holding it when it fell apart.”

“No, but I know. I know it was me. You tried and I didn’t. I think… I don’t know what I think. I wasn’t ready to grow up.”

“Neither was I,” she said.

“Yeah you were. But you were yoked to the wrong guy. Life is just bigger than I thought it was. Marriage is bigger. Jobs are harder. Self-management is harder, and I fumbled it. I’m looking in the mirror and realizing I still think I’m seventeen.”

Hathaway nodded, thinking about his words clanging on other parts of her life. “Life is bigger, you’re right.”

“It’s a big deal. And you made it hard to grow up.”

“I did?”

“You took care of everything, Hathaway. You cleaned, you cooked, you paid the bills. I didn’t have to do anything. I didn’t have to grow up. So…I didn’t. Did you ever think about that? The downside to taking care of someone?”

“I thought about it every night.”

“Look at me.” Byron patted his protruding stomach. “I’m reverse aging. I even got my baby fat.”

Hathaway groaned. “Me too. I’ve been stress eating the past few weeks.”

“No, babe. You’re fly. Trust me. I couldn’t believe it when Daisy Hathaway wanted to go out with me. The Daisy Hathaway. I still feel that way. Every time I look at you.”

“You’re sweet.” She gave him a smile at half-wattage.

“Is it working?”

“No.” And it wasn’t. He was making a big speech, doing his best, but in her mind he’d already been gone.

“You wanna fool around one last time?”

“Tempting. But I think we better not, Byron.”

“You and this new guy. Are you two an item?”

“I’m not sure.”

Byron said, “Really? Why not? Then why the heck am I—”

“You need to move out because it’s best for you. Not because I found someone else. With him, I don’t know what will happen because…like you said, life is difficult. I don’t know exactly how he feels and he’s dealing with life too.”

“Have you two…?”

“No.”

“Is he blind? I see how you’ve been dressing.”

“He’s preoccupied.”

“Are you blind? Big good-looking guy like that… Surely you noticed.”

She smiled. “I noticed. But I was engaged. And I don’t break the rules. At least when I can help it.”

“Hey, weird question. Can I have the ring? Might be able to get some money back. You haven’t worn it in a long time.”

Byron said it casually with no idea how it might sting. But Hathaway felt nothing. She wasn’t even sure where the ring was. She searched a moment, found it in a drawer, came back, and set it between them.

The sight of the little gold ring on the cheap table grabbed them both. It felt like the totemic period at the end of a long, rambling sentence. This was the moment their old life ended.

“We…” Byron’s voice caught. He wiped his eyes, surprised at their betrayal. “We really screwed it up, didn’t we.”

“We really did.”

“From here on out, we’ll do it better.”

She lowered into her chair again. Pushed her hair back. She’d run out of words too.

“Right, kid? We’ll do it better in the future.”

She hoped so. At the moment, however, she couldn’t see beyond the next twenty-four hours. The future was a great yawning abyss.

Peter Lynch sat in his office, not working. His inattention to his legal practice resulted in accumulating piles of manila folders on the desk and in the corners. His office manager Jerry had given up trying. Jerry came into work each morning hoping Lynch had dealt with at least one case the previous night, prepared for a day of forging his signature and making excuses to opposing counsels.

Lynch’s eyes were glued on his two new monitors. Live video feeds, sharp, clear, and in color. One of a dark bedroom, one of a bright kitchen. He’d placed the small cameras himself two days ago when he could wait no longer. They were artfully hidden and motion activated—he had a few months of battery life. He’d installed a wireless Verizon hotspot in the attic for the cameras.

Through his speakers, voices spoke.

The man—a boy in need of a haircut, really—was talking.

You wanna fool around