"No," he said, his voice sounding like it came from the end of a long tunnel.
"Are you coming with me?"
"No."
The word seemed to hang above us in the air. I shifted, moving away from him but still not turning to look at him.
"Then where are you going?"
"I don't know. Mexico," he said. I could hear shame in his voice. I turned my face even further away, more tears coming now, but quietly.
"I did all this … this all happened because of you. And you're going to leave me to deal with it," I said, barely able to speak the words. I knew what I was asking wasn't exactly "fair", but it also didn't seem fair that Boon got to waltz into my life, screw everything up, and then waltz back out, leaving me to pick up after the fire.
"I'll come back, Samantha. When all this has blown over, I'll come back for you. It's just … it's too hot for me right now. It's not safe. I'll be getting it from the cops, and from my old man. Don't you see? I'm fucked either way," he said, his voice desperate. I wanted to take his word and trust him, to understand, but I couldn't.
The only thing that all those promises and explanations really meant, to me, was that he was a coward. He'd done things that he wasn't proud of, and now he didn't want to face the consequences. Well, shit, I haven't exactly been a bastion of pride either, I thought to myself, feeling my face redden in anger. The more I thought about it, the madder I got. I felt his hand reach out to me, to my shoulder, and I thrust myself even further away from him.
"They'll go easy on you if you help them," I said, knowing that it was at least partially true. The police always made deals with people if they thought they could get something good out of them. I knew my father talked about it often enough.
"Help them what? Take down my father? I might not love him like you love your dad, Samantha, but do you really expect me to sell him out? No, I couldn't do that," Boon said.
"Screw your father!" I cried out, the words reverberating around the shack.
"Please, Samantha, please. I – I think I love you," Boon said, his voice wavering. I wish I'd turned to look at him at that moment. But I didn't; I just stayed where I was. His "I love you" fell flat in my brain, and in my heart. Not a stir from the depths of my emotions. He might as well have said "cat food is delicious."
"If you love me, you won't leave me alone with all this. You won't leave my mother at your father's hands," I spat, fully aware that the last part was unnecessarily cruel. I mean, I didn't really expect Boon, just one guy, really just a kid, to go head-to-head with what was obviously a bloodthirsty group of killers. He might be a tough guy, but he wasn't that tough.
But it felt right to be so mean. It felt good, for a split second, to think I could make him hurt like he was hurting me. And the first part, I felt, was true. I knew in my rational brain that it would be very, very, very dangerous for him to come back with me. I mean, his club had put my father in the hospital and was currently holding my mother hostage, and if they didn't get him, the cops would, for sure.
"Samantha, they just want me. They'll let her go once they realize I'm not there. I promise, I'll get in touch with my father once I get far enough away," Boon said quietly. Finally, I turned to him, my eyes narrowed to slits, watery. I hated him then. I hated him as much as I ever cared for him.
"They want you, but it's my mother they've got. Excuse me if I don't support your decision to split. You don't know what's going to happen. And if she winds up dead, that blood is on your hands, not mine. And I'll never forgive you for this. I'll never, ever, ever forgive you for leaving me with your fucking mess."
I could see how hard the words hit him, and I liked it. I wanted him to feel powerless, awful, guilty, like me. I wanted it to be him crawled up in a ball on that shitty mattress. Our eyes were locked like that for a full minute before he turned away.
"I'm sorry, Samantha," he mumbled. "I understand you can't forgive me. I don't think I'll be able to forgive me, either. I'm so sorry."
I couldn't respond. I turned back, facing the wall, knees to my chest, shivering slightly from shock and fear and exhaustion. I was hungry, but I didn't want food. I was tired, but I didn't want sleep. I just wanted my mother to hold me and tell me that it would be okay.
I just wanted my mother to be safe.
Finally, I heard the scrunch of tires coming up the road. Doors slammed as the tires stopped, and Alicia's face appeared in the broken window.
"Sammy? Sammy, we're here to take you home. Take you back," she said, softly, almost too softly to hear. I looked up dazedly. I'd been lost in my thoughts, remembering the times I'd gotten into stupid fights with Mom. I wanted to take them all back. Boon rose from the mattress, holding his hand out to me to help me up. I didn't take it, but struggled to my feet on my own and stumbled towards the window. Alicia's eyes were wide and teary; I know I looked frightful, and the reality of seeing me must have hit her hard. Becky's face appeared next to hers.
"Oh, honey, come here," Becky said, holding an arm through the window. I took it, the feel of her hand against mine the only comfort I had in the world. Boon stayed back near the mattress as I clamored out of the window. Alicia looked at him, shooting daggers. Becky was too busy helping me in my ungraceful return to the real world.
It seemed too bright outside, too warm. It was about 8pm, and the long summer sunset was still illuminating the sky in bright pinks and yellows. Becky began to lead me back to the car, but I stopped and turned. My mind was still mostly blank, but I knew, deep down, that this could be the last time I ever saw Boon, and as much as I hated him in the moment, he'd still been someone to me before. He'd been someone I cared about, and who cared about me.
I turned and went back to the window, barely able to make out his figure in the darkness. He saw me and moved forward quickly, until I could see him fairly well. I felt a sharp pain in my heart as I looked into his eyes, saw the dejection and pain and guilt. He looked, suddenly, very, very old, and very, very tired.
I thought of all the things those eyes had seen before they ever laid on me. I opened my mouth, but no words came out. Alicia was standing at my side, her hand on my arm. I felt strength in our bond, felt the fog in my mind slowly clearing as I took strength in her mere presence.
"I don't hate you," I finally managed to say. Boon gave me a sad grin, so unlike the grin that had started it all.
"I wish that could be good enough for me, baby," he said, his voice cracking. "You're never gonna leave my dreams, are you?"
"That's not up to me."
"No, I guess it's not. When all this turns out okay and you're on your way to whatever beautiful life you're gonna have, I hope you smile sometimes knowing I'm out there, lovin' you just as much as I do now."
My heart broke all over again. I wanted so badly to hate him, to just wish him the worst of all things, but I didn't. He was just protecting himself, and what else could I expect from someone I'd known for all of two weeks? I didn't think I had any more water in my body, but apparently I had enough for a fresh batch of tears.
"Come on, Sammy, we gotta go," Alicia whispered to me.
"Take care of yourself, Boon. Get out. Make this all worthwhile," I finally managed to say. It seemed as good a way as any to say goodbye. With that, I let Alicia pull me away from the window and back to Becky's car, which was now idling.
"Is that the car you stole?" Alicia suddenly asked as she opened the passenger side door, gesturing to the car we'd come in.
"Alicia, if you had any less tact, I'd think you'd need medication," Becky said, leaning towards us.
"I want to sit in the back," I said numbly. Being in the front seat … even as a passenger, it would just be too much. I wanted to just close my eyes and let the world pass by for a little while. I let myself be helped into the backseat and felt a deep weariness spread over me. The door slammed shut and I leaned my head against the window, staring at the car that, yes, we had stolen.
Boon can take responsibility for that, at least, I thought, my last conscious thought before the purr of the engine and the gentle rock of the car down the dirt road lulled me off to sleep.
27
"We should go to the police first."
"There will be cops at the hospital."
"Yeah, but they're just going to want to take her in, anyway."
"At least this gives her a little more time to prepare. And she needs to see that her dad's okay."
I woke up to the sound of Alicia and Becky arguing quietly. Their hushed tones drifted into my brain before I fully woke up, when I was still in a dreamland where none of this had happened. The reality came crashing down once I made out just what they were saying. We were parked in a Dunk'n Donuts parking lot, and I could see by the time that I'd been out for a little under an hour. I still felt exhausted.