The Cypress House(93)

“You got some brass, saying a thing like that. Just because I did some work for the man doesn’t mean—”

“You did more than work for the man,” Arlen said. “You wanted to be him. Wanted to run around in fancy cars with a gun in your belt and a pocketful of money, dirty money, blood money, just so you could feel like you got some power. Feel like you’re a big shot. Came swaggering in the day you got out of Raiford and never so much as thought about your sister, what she’s been through waiting on your worthless ass. No, all you wanted to do was tell tales about the thugs and hoods you knew. Except you don’t even know them. You got any idea how sad that is, boy? You’re pretending to be Solomon Wade. That’s what you want out of this life. To be just like the man who had your daddy’s throat cut.”

Owen’s jaw had gone rigid, and his hands were tight on the steering wheel.

“I’ve been places where words like that would get a man killed,” he said.

“Son,” Arlen said, “you ain’t been anywhere. You don’t have so much as a rumor of what this world’s really like. You’re getting a taste now, and it’s your first. All that tough-boy bullshit aside, this is your first taste, and you know it.”

Owen didn’t answer.

“Look me in the eye and tell me if I’m wrong,” Arlen said.

Silence.

“There’s only one thing that you need to do now,” Arlen said, “and that’s take care of your sister. Try to make up for the mistakes you made and your father made that got you all into this fix. I’ll do your bloody work. You just be a man for a change.”


That night he sat awake with Rebecca on the back porch, and they listened to the waves break and roll back and break again, and neither of them spoke much for a long time. Owen had climbed the stairs as soon as they got back and shut the door to his room, never appearing again. There was a lot going on in his mind. Let him have his time, so long as he didn’t set the fool’s temper to work again.

Paul had been in the barroom until Arlen entered, and then he stood and walked past him without a word and went up the steps as well. Arlen let him go. How he wished Paul had never come back. He had to make sure that he’d be gone soon, long before anything went into motion with Solomon Wade. That would require waiting on the money, though, and that would give Arlen only about twenty-four hours to convince Paul to hit the road… and only about twenty-four hours of distance between the boy and Corridor County. Arlen didn’t figure they’d pursue him, but there was a chance. Paul would need to travel smart, travel with a plan, and that would require a conversation between the two of them. Right now, the boy wouldn’t even speak to him.

Rebecca laid her hand out in the darkness and put it on his arm, and the mere touch of her skin on his own broke some of the blackness loose inside him. He closed his eyes and felt the points of warmth where her fingertips lay, tried to focus on that and nothing else for just a few seconds.

“You shouldn’t have to do this,” she said softly. “Shouldn’t have to be any part of it.”

“Stop,” he said.

“Well, it’s true.” She squeezed his arm once and then removed her hand and said, “I told Paul about your father.”

He opened his eyes again. “What?”

“He holds such anger toward you, Arlen, and I can’t stand to see it. I tried to talk with him about it, tried to apologize for what happened and the way that it happened and explain what you were trying to do. That you believed so deeply he was in danger that you would drive him away from this place at any cost.”

“Let me guess,” Arlen said, “he wasn’t buying it.”

“No. I told him that I believed you. He didn’t care for that either. He wanted to know how I could possibly believe you.”

“So you told him.”

“Yes. I hope you’re not angry. I knew it wasn’t a story you shared, but, Arlen… I wanted him to know.”

He supposed he should be angry. He wasn’t, though. Just couldn’t muster it, not with her, and not over this.

“I won’t see that boy die,” he said. “I won’t let it happen. It isn’t this place that threatens him, it’s Wade. I’ll put an end to Wade.”

“We could just leave,” she said. “I still think we could just—”

“No,” he said. “You will leave. You and your brother and Paul. And I expect to catch up with you at some point. I fully intend on doing that. But not while Solomon Wade remains to follow.”