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I turn toward the window, looking for his truck. Waiting.

I hold on to a piece of sharp glass from the window we broke with my chair on the other side of the cabin. My shirt is wrapped around it, but one wrong move and I can cut myself severely.

“Danny, I’m sorry for the things I’ve said. I know this isn’t your fault now.”

I give her a reassuring smile, happy she thinks that, but I still blame me. “It’s okay, love. No man is wise at all times.”

She smirks. “You and your Irish sayings.” She laughs lightly. “Your dad would be proud,” she says. “You didn’t let his Irish background die with him.”

I flinch at the compliment. “I learned everything from him,” I say, clearing my throat.

Her smile fades as she swallows. “Danny, I…” She looks into my eyes and I look into hers, and in this moment we share an understanding.

“I know, Bex. Me too.”

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Bones

2019

We had businesses to collect money from this morning and that didn’t go smoothly. I let some druggie borrow a couple grand to start up a new restaurant and things aren’t going well. He’s getting high in the kitchen he’s serving food from, he’s in a mess with the health department, and he’s not making his payments. So, I had to get my hands bloody.

“What did I tell you, Miles?” I ask as I slam my fist into the man’s face. “Repeat what I said.”

Miles spits onto the floor, wiggling his hands, which are tied behind his back.

“You said I’d be okay if I paid at the end of the month.”

“And what day is it?”

“Bones, it’s only the first. It’s only a day late.”

Another punch to the face.

“Nope. It’s eleven days late from the original pay date. I gave you ten extra days, Miles. Ten whole days. I thought that was kind of me. I thought I was doing you a favor.”

I lean down so I can look Miles in his battered face. “I find out you’re snorting cocaine next to the food you’re preparing. I find out you’re drinking on the job. This isn’t good for business and you know what they say?”

He shakes his head.

“They say, you must crack the nuts before you can eat the kernel.”

Miles looks confused.

Sweep chimes in, “Success takes hard work.”

“Exactly. Sweep took the words right out of my mouth. You must do better. People are hearing about your bad habits and you know what it’s doing to me?”

Miles doesn’t say anything.

“It wasn’t a rhetorical question, Miles. I need you to answer.”

“It makes you look bad,” he mumbles.

“What was that?” I ask. I look over at Trig, who’s popping his rubber band. Miles looks over at him, too, nervously.

“Did you hear that, Trig?”