Page 80 of Secrets That Bind Us

Dean

Age Thirty-One

It takes me a full three hundred and seventy-two days to get it right.

His mistake?

The motherfucker buys an old 1958 Chevy Impala– the type of car I used to help my uncle soup up for car shows.

He parks the car in his garage. It’s fine.

I’ve been sneaking in every now and then getting used to his space as much as I can.

He’s asleep on the couch, empty bottle of Macallan in his hand.

Dressed in all black, I make it in and get to fucking work. I tamper with the fuel line, get a few pieces of toilet paper and tie it around it. I fuck with the brake drums so they drag, which will cause sparks that’ll ignite the fuel line.

Not one part of me feels guilty. Especially not after how I’ve watched him live this past year. He’s a fucking waste of human space. A meatsack with no soul.But I’ve always known that.

I get out of his house and into my car and wait.

The next day, I trail after him while he drives, hitting seventy down the road… swerving … I wait for it when I see the sparks start and slow down my speed.

I watch the funeral from the tree line.

Verity sheds no tears. Neither her small son asleep in her arms. Nor does my daughter, who stares at his casket in both anger and something like disgust.

Eli and Jake find me, and I hold out his suitcase. “You’ll find about two-hundred grand still in there.”

He blinks down at it and smiles radiantly at me.

there’s no way this man has ever looked bad a day in his life.

“Keep it. I was just told Verity booked a flight to Switzerland for after the funeral– where I’m sure she’s booked an extensive spa stay.

It won’t take her long to get back to you now.

Apparently, Zoey has a plan in store to get her back in Adelaide within the year, after her tour.

Something about calling off her engagement in a few months. ”

I groan and look up at the cloudless sky.

Yeah, not even God cries for Micah.

One year.

I can wait one more year.