“Who?”
I ignored the question and instead said, “I’ve always been good at multiplying money, especially dirty money. Razor offered me a job and a place.”
“And you accepted?”
“Yes. I did. As long as I was loyal, quiet, and got shit done, they left me alone. And I went into it with my eyes open. My choice.”
“Knowing what they’re like, why would you give them any loyalty at all?”
“Because they’re honest.” I shrugged. “Razor and Romeo don’t care about me. I never mistook their interest in and exploitation of my abilities as care, not once. But at least they’re honest.” I glanced at Isaac, smiling grimly. “At least they didn’t throw themselves parades, pontificating about their Christian values while turning a blind eye to anything that doesn’t directly affect them. They ain’t Christians, they’re the pharisees. This country is full of hypocrites. Razor and Romeo, they’re scum and they’re crazy, but they’ve never pretended to be anything other than just exactly that.”
Done with my rant, I gulped down the rest of my whiskey. We sat in the stillness, my final words echoing between us. Slowly, I became aware of the nighttime noises: frogs calling to each other, crickets singing a chaotic song. An owl hooted and for whatever reason, the sound reminded me of a night—a long, long time ago—when Jethro Winston had brought his little sister, no older than fifteen, to the compound.
I’d immediately called Billy Winston. I’d then stood outside standing guard over her, waiting for the most responsible of the Winston boys to pick her up.
At one point before he’d arrived, she’d turned to me and said, “Thank you. I think you saved my life.” Her chin had wobbled, and she’d sniffed, pressing her lips together bravely.
Ashley Winston was just a few years older than my Jessica and her own feckless brother had turned her over to the wolves. She’d trusted him. And that had been her mistake.
None of the Wraiths were trustworthy—not Ashley’s father, not her brother, none of them. But she’d been just a kid. Adults trusting other adults was one thing. I believed in free will and self-determination. Folks made their bed; they needed to sleep in the consequences. But kids trusting the wrong adults didn’t deserve nasty consequences. They deserved protection and patience.
That’s when I’d ordered the cattle iron and started branding anyone who brought in a teenage girl.
“I used to have freedom here,” I said, contemplating my empty glass. “But I can’t leave them alone anymore.”
“The Wraiths?” he asked.
“Yeah. And I know—I’ve known for a while—the next time I go, I can’t ever come back.”
“It’s worse than I thought it would be.” Isaac nodded. Maybe he understood.
We traded a look and he added, “When you go, leave the branding iron with me. I’ll stop them. Catfish will help me. He hates it, too.”
“Thank you. I’d appreciate that.” Lifting the bottle between us, I poured the younger man another glass, then refilled mine, thoughts going off in another direction, following the river of my tipsy state of mind. Unsurprisingly, it turned to Diane. “You know, I don’t believe that a bad man can be with a good woman and not want to change for the better.” Rubbing my jaw, I stared at the amber surface of my whiskey. I didn't want to drink any more. But for whatever reason, holding it made me feel better.
“I don’t think that’s true.”
“Oh, you don’t?” I chuckled at the young man's certainty. What did he know? Twenty-nothing, at the start of everything.
“No.” Isaac shifted on the ground next to me, and I felt his cold blue stare fasten to the side of my face. “I think it’s more like, a good man can’t be with a good woman and not want to change for the better.”
“I’m not a good man.”
“Aren’t you?”
“Is that a joke?” Now I laughed for real. “You’ve seen me deal out punishments.”
“All of which were deserved.”
“I launder drug money.”
“If you ask me, all drugs should be legalized anyway.”
I stared at him, my eyebrows shooting to my hairline. “You work for the DEA.”
“So? I have a brain, don’t I? Have you seen what happened in Portugal? Drug related deaths down by 90%. Who is the real bad guy? The drug dealer? Or the government that profits from making them a crime?”
“Isaac, you can’t tell me you think I’m worthy of your mother.”
“I don’t.” His unnerving stare broke from mine and settled on his whiskey. “But she does. And you make her happy.”
“That’s enough?”
“I’ve never seen her happy before. My whole life, I’ve never seen her laugh for real when it wasn’t just the two of us, or us and Jenn. So yeah,”—he shrugged—“life is short, and that’s enough. But, Repo, Razor Dennings is a big fish for the government. So is Romeo Winston, so are you. You and my momma have a better chance on the run then you do if you stay here. Don’t do anything stupid. Leave tomorrow as planned.”
I shook my head, closing my eyes against more than just the night. “That’s not the kind of life I want for her.” I hated that I hadn’t been able to make all of this go away for Diane. I needed to close out reality, just for a little bit.
“Too bad. Nothing you can do now. Just . . ." He hit my shoulder and I looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “Make her happy,” he said, the three words a command, and added in the same tone, “and don’t ever come back.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
*Diane*
“Wrinkles should merely indicate where the smiles have been.”
Mark Twain
The moment I opened the door and looked into Isaac’s face, I knew the time had come for me to leave.
“Hi, Momma,” he said, just like he’d done for the past several weeks; except this time, something about his voice—or the anxiousness in his eyes, or perhaps his posture?—rang of finality. “Am I too late for dinner?”
“Of course not. Give me some sugar and I’ll heat something up for you.” I tried to smile as I offered him a cheek for a kiss, but my stomach couldn’t decide whether to sink or swim.
Was I scared or excited? I had no idea.
I know y’all will think I am a looney, but the weeks following Isaac’s initial visit and leading up to this moment hadn’t been terrible. Yes, I was still under surveillance and suspicion for murder. And yes, I hadn’t seen Jason in over a month, which made nights torture and my heart feel like a pin cushion during the day.
But I felt certain I would see Jason. I felt certain, one way or the other, this would all be over and we’d be together. Also, my children had been visiting me. They didn’t stop by at the same time, but I still got a chance to visit with them both, and I’d treasured every minute of it.
Isaac always brought his laundry and ate everything I put on the table, letting me fuss over him and his sensitive skin. I’d even managed to make him laugh a time or two. Plus, he gave me hugs. So many hugs. Nothing is quite the same as a hug from your child; it’s like being wrapped in contentment and happiness.