Read Online Never Can Tell by C. M. Stunich - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: C. M. Stunich
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no leash. Doesn't need one, I guess. I hold Noah against my chest, tucked safely into his baby carrier, and try to pretend that we didn't get frisked by the TSA for this sole reason, that these delicate bullet drawings played no part. Shit, I'm sure the piercings and the tats had nothing to do with our 'random selection' either.
Ty circles the carrier with his hands on his hips and tries to pretend that he's all cool, super tough shit, that we weren't clutching hands in fearful silence as the plane descended onto the tarmac. God, I hate fucking flying. He, like me, has a cig clenched tight between his lips, but it's not lit either. He's promised me that as long as I'm not smoking, neither is he.
“Well, shit,” he says, glancing in the backseat of the sedan we've rented and making eyes at the hissing face of Chuck Norris. “We don't really need this damn thing, do we?” I shrug, wondering what it is he's getting at and then watch as he curb stomps the poor kennel with his boots, rendering it to plastic shards right there in the parking lot. Ty grins.
“Aren't you just fucking precious?” I ask, rolling my eyes and doing my best to keep the smile off my face. I don't ever tell him this, but when he does immature shit, I find him cute. How ridiculous. “Have fun cleaning that up?”
“Sure you don't want to just jump in the car and drive away?” I give Ty a look and he laughs.
“Okay, okay, I got it,” he murmurs around his cigarette. I step back as he bends down and gathers the plastic up, gesturing for the stupid dog to jump into the car and closing the door behind her. I sway on my feet a moment and have to put out a hand to balance against the side of the car. Like a hawk, Ty's eyes snap up to mine. “Are you alright, baby?” I nod and try my best to smile. He knows better, I'm sure, but I'm keeping a game face on for him. Even if I have to retreat to the bathroom every five minutes to puke, I'm going to grin and bear it. For Ty. Always for Ty.
I lean back against the car and let my eyes fluter closed for a moment. I'm exhausted, all the way down to the bone. Last night, Ty and I packed up the rest of our shit. This morning, we got on an airplane. Last night, he confided his fears in me. This morning, he's perfectly fucking fine. I want to talk about it, but I can see that he doesn't. My only hope is that since we're out of New York, his fears are all for naught. He's not wanted for murder or anything, so no detective in his right mind is going to come after him. They might call him, sure, but that's okay. I think that's what he wants. Despite Hannah's warning to the contrary, I think he wants to hell the cops everything he saw all those years ago. If this cold case can get solved, I have a feeling that a little piece of Ty would heal along with it.
Marin Rice.
The girl that Ty saw all those years ago, the one he ran away from but never forgot. The one whose death he blames on himself.
I open my eyes and watch my dark knight gather up the plastic and carry it around the corner in search of a trash can. He thinks I don't know, but I can guess he's going to try and steal a smoke while he's at it. I drop my chin to my chest and look down at Noah, wishing with everything inside of me that he doesn't have to go through the same sort of pain that Ty and I have inside of us. The little monster inside of me, the one that's always told me to do things, who made me into a person I didn't want to be, I have to make sure she's not hereditary. I brush my fingers across Noah's soft tuft of hair.
There's always the chance that Hannah is just stalking Ty, that she didn't come over just to warn him. Why would she anyway? What does she have to gain? Why does she give a fuck? And then again, we don't even know if she's telling the truth or not.
I groan low in my throat and let my head fall back.
Ty believes her. That's what counts. I need to operate off of that assumption.
I pull my lighter out and flip it open,
Ty circles the carrier with his hands on his hips and tries to pretend that he's all cool, super tough shit, that we weren't clutching hands in fearful silence as the plane descended onto the tarmac. God, I hate fucking flying. He, like me, has a cig clenched tight between his lips, but it's not lit either. He's promised me that as long as I'm not smoking, neither is he.
“Well, shit,” he says, glancing in the backseat of the sedan we've rented and making eyes at the hissing face of Chuck Norris. “We don't really need this damn thing, do we?” I shrug, wondering what it is he's getting at and then watch as he curb stomps the poor kennel with his boots, rendering it to plastic shards right there in the parking lot. Ty grins.
“Aren't you just fucking precious?” I ask, rolling my eyes and doing my best to keep the smile off my face. I don't ever tell him this, but when he does immature shit, I find him cute. How ridiculous. “Have fun cleaning that up?”
“Sure you don't want to just jump in the car and drive away?” I give Ty a look and he laughs.
“Okay, okay, I got it,” he murmurs around his cigarette. I step back as he bends down and gathers the plastic up, gesturing for the stupid dog to jump into the car and closing the door behind her. I sway on my feet a moment and have to put out a hand to balance against the side of the car. Like a hawk, Ty's eyes snap up to mine. “Are you alright, baby?” I nod and try my best to smile. He knows better, I'm sure, but I'm keeping a game face on for him. Even if I have to retreat to the bathroom every five minutes to puke, I'm going to grin and bear it. For Ty. Always for Ty.
I lean back against the car and let my eyes fluter closed for a moment. I'm exhausted, all the way down to the bone. Last night, Ty and I packed up the rest of our shit. This morning, we got on an airplane. Last night, he confided his fears in me. This morning, he's perfectly fucking fine. I want to talk about it, but I can see that he doesn't. My only hope is that since we're out of New York, his fears are all for naught. He's not wanted for murder or anything, so no detective in his right mind is going to come after him. They might call him, sure, but that's okay. I think that's what he wants. Despite Hannah's warning to the contrary, I think he wants to hell the cops everything he saw all those years ago. If this cold case can get solved, I have a feeling that a little piece of Ty would heal along with it.
Marin Rice.
The girl that Ty saw all those years ago, the one he ran away from but never forgot. The one whose death he blames on himself.
I open my eyes and watch my dark knight gather up the plastic and carry it around the corner in search of a trash can. He thinks I don't know, but I can guess he's going to try and steal a smoke while he's at it. I drop my chin to my chest and look down at Noah, wishing with everything inside of me that he doesn't have to go through the same sort of pain that Ty and I have inside of us. The little monster inside of me, the one that's always told me to do things, who made me into a person I didn't want to be, I have to make sure she's not hereditary. I brush my fingers across Noah's soft tuft of hair.
There's always the chance that Hannah is just stalking Ty, that she didn't come over just to warn him. Why would she anyway? What does she have to gain? Why does she give a fuck? And then again, we don't even know if she's telling the truth or not.
I groan low in my throat and let my head fall back.
Ty believes her. That's what counts. I need to operate off of that assumption.
I pull my lighter out and flip it open,
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