Read Online Third Rail by Rory Flynn - Free Book Online Page B

better than being dead. I tell myself that pretty much every day. And you know what, Eddy? Most of the time it’s true.” Candace leans toward her baby to tuck in the edge of a white blanket.
    â€œLook, I know you have to get back to the ICU. But I have to ask about this.” Harkness takes an evidence bag from his pocket and drops it on the table between them.
    â€œWhere the fuck did you get that shit?” Candace stares at the amber vial like it’s about to explode.
    â€œOn the floor of your dad’s car along with the Grey Goose bottles.”
    â€œShit. Shit.
Shit.
” She slams her fake hand down on the cafeteria table.
    â€œWhat?”
    Candace pauses. “Forget it, Eddy. Just forget it. All I can say is this is news to me. And not good news.”
    The baby cries and Candace lifts her gently from the carrier, unbuttons her blouse to cup her breast, and deftly maneuvers her dark pink nipple into May’s mouth. The feeding calms the baby and seems to do the same for Candace.
    Harkness stares, transfixed by the skein of fine blue veins just beneath the pale skin of her full breast. When he looks up their eyes connect.
    â€œYou can watch if you want,” Candace says softly. “I don’t care. Just don’t arrest me or anything.”
    â€œI won’t.” Harkness looks across the cafeteria.
    After the baby finishes, Candace buttons her blouse and raises May to her shoulder.
    â€œWhen he crashed into the monument, your father thought he was in a plane wreck,” Harkness says. “Is that the other accident you were talking about?”
    â€œYeah,” she says. “Family tragedy. I got over it. But he didn’t. That’s the thing. Dad blamed himself because he was the pilot. But it wasn’t his fault. He rented a crappy Cessna. Carbon monoxide leaked into the cabin. We all passed out and the plane crashed. I woke up in a snowy cornfield all cut to pieces. My sister didn’t . . . she didn’t wake up. Her name was May.”
    In Candace’s glimmering dark eyes, Harkness sees the sadness and strength beneath the jokes and shit talk, the leather jacket and pawnshop jewelry.
    Candace bends down to whisper in her daughter’s tiny ear. “No one’s going to ever hurt you, are they, May?”
    Â 
    They swagger down the long green hallway. The taller one leads the way, his long blond hair swinging in stringy clumps. Harkness figures the other two have to be brothers; they’re the same kind of ugly—grimy and short, with ironic beards that make them look like they just stepped off of a Civil War battlefield. The three dudes stop to peer in the holding rooms, making each other laugh, not even trying to be quiet. One of the hairy brothers takes an empty IV pole and pulls it behind him like a toy. The taller one yanks the pole away and gives his hairy friend a practiced shove like he’s a misbehaving kid he’s tired of herding around.
    Candace looks up from her iPad, thick with stickers like a skateboard. “Here’s Dex,” she says with a palpable lack of enthusiasm. “And his fucktard friends.”
    They walk into the waiting room. Dex’s friends see something amusing on the ceiling-mounted TV and stare at it, transfixed by cartoons. Harkness notices that Dex pauses at the door before he walks through, a moment of threshold anxiety—could be a quirk or a sign that he’s stranger than he looks.
    Dex floats over to Candace and bends down to kiss her on the forehead. He has a soft, almost feminine face but his cheeks are stubbled, and his hair, dyed Cobain yellow, hangs in front of his flecked green eyes, which he keeps locked on the floor, rarely glancing up. He could be an organic farmer or a musician.
    â€œHey, Baby May,” he whispers.
    â€œDex, she’s sleeping.” Candace shakes her head.
    â€œOh.”
    Candace points at Harkness. “This is Eddy. Used to call