Read Online The Dead Series (Book 1): Tell Me When I'm Dead by Steven Ramirez - Free Book Online

Holly. “You were right. We need to get out of here.”
    “I’m sorry I called 911. I didn’t think. Now they’re going to find out about you and that devil woman.”
    “My God, Holly, don’t apologize. This is all my fault. The important thing is for us to get away from here.” She became cool and didn’t say anything. “Did you ask your mom if we can stay with her? Holly?”
    She pursed her lips, and I knew something bad was coming.
    “I’ve decided to drive to Mt. Shasta by myself. I’ll call Fred to let him know I quit once I’m up there.”
    Her face told me everything. She hated me for what happened. Cheating on her was one thing, but Missy tried to kill her. I brought this evil down on both of us. And what I feared most came true. My wife was leaving me.
    “Okay,” I said.
    We sat there for a long time, galaxies apart. I listened to the ticking of the singing-bird clock I’d bought her for our first anniversary. Any minute birdsong would startle us rather than comfort.
    “I’ll follow you to your mom’s to make sure you get there safe,” I said. “Then I guess I’ll come back here.”
    “You should find some other place to stay. For your own safety.”
    I touched her warm hand, but she withdrew it.
    I wondered if I’d ever see her again. I wanted Holly more than anything in life. She was all I cared about. I’d do anything to protect her from Missy—or anyone else who tried to harm her. But it was what I’d done that put her in danger in the first place. I lost her that first time I climbed into Missy’s bed, the day I condemned myself to Hell.
    What’s that saying— bad things happen to good people ? But it’s not true. It’s bad people doing bad things to themselves and others. Or people who are more stupid than bad doing bad things. Me, I was somewhere in the middle. I didn’t think I was bad, just stupid. What scared me was the belief that bad people can become good if they want to, but stupid people can’t become smart. They continue living out their pathetic lives, hurting more people along the way till they either are killed or die off.
    “I’ll gas up your car,” I said, and left the room.

    It was an hour to Holly’s mom’s house in Mt. Shasta. As I got on the freeway, I saw a military-looking helicopter zooming overhead. All the way up I followed Holly’s blue Prius. She had tried again to go by herself, but I refused to let her. I wanted to keep her safe.
    After Holly’s dad died, her mom sold her home in Tres Marias and bought a cabin not far from the lake. They called them cabins, but they were townhomes in a community called Shasta Heights. Thirty had been built when the builder went bankrupt. Holly’s mom got hers at a bank auction and paid cash.
    I saw the lake shimmering through the trees. The last time I was here was with Jim. It was warm, and there were a lot of boats pulling people on water skis. It seemed idyllic.
    Holly didn’t tell her mother what I’d done. She said there was a wave of violence tearing through the town and I felt she was safer up here. Her mom seemed to buy it. She was a simple woman who’d worked hard all her life and took things at face value. I don’t think she had the capacity to recognize intrigue.
    “Nice to see you, Dave,” her mom said when I came through the front door with the bags.
    She never liked me all that much because of the drinking, I guess. But I saw she was making an effort. Sometimes it was hard to understand her, because most of her teeth were missing. Holly told me once that, when a tooth fell out, her mother would toss it into a mason jar with the others. She used the jar more or less to keep track of her age.
    “Good to see you too, Mrs. Mitchell,” I said.
    “Irene.”
    “Right.”
    I planned to return home, knowing Holly didn’t want me around. But she informed me that, for appearance’s sake, I’d better stay till morning.
    “I didn’t bring any other clothes.”
    “Just do it, Dave. After Mom