47

Johnny

He was there,” Becca says again. “He could’ve saved her. Your mom didn’t have to die.”

“No,” I yell. “No.”

My brain is racing, so I start pacing to keep up. Things are getting slippery again. Everything is jumbled, coming into my head out of order. Yet everything is moving so fast I can’t organize it.

Brit.

Dead … blood … gurgling … family.

Goodbye … Mom … love … left.

Truck. Gurgle. Blood.

Save. Save. Save.

“You do what you need to do,” I hear Becca say softly. “Nobody would blame you if you took Ethan. If you paid Travis back. We deserve justice. We all deserve it.”

“Stop,” I say. “Just stop.”

Ethan begins to fade from my thoughts as my back-up plan changes again. Saving him is no longer my top priority. The gun in my hand changes course—moving from Becca toward Travis.

The war begins: rage verses devastation.

I can’t bear to think of Mom’s final minutes. I can’t handle knowing she suffered; she knew she was going to die. She saw Travis walk away from her.

Rage begins to win this battle.

I can’t think around it.

I move closer to the scumbag.

A muffled cry comes from Travis. From his filthy mouth. Teardrops fall down his face and all I can think about is ripping him apart. And showing him. Showing him why it mattered that he left the scene. Making him understand exactly what he did.

Becca closes in on me—her tiger-and-prey move. She rests both hands on my arms, stroking them. Speaking in an almost soothing voice. Full of emotion. Her eyes dancing.

“No,” Becca says. “Not Travis. You need to make him suffer. Hurting him will only make things easier. Put him in pain like he put us in pain. Point the gun at Ethan. Please, Johnny. For me.”

Too much noise.

“Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.”

My finger shakes on the trigger.

“You can do it,” Becca says. “Yes, it’s a perfectly logical response. It is justified. It evens things out. I would understand. And I’ll support you. Whatever you need.”

“Okay then,” I spit, feeling my body heat with rage. Murderous rage. I’m discovering there is such a thing. “It’s settled.”

I move the gun once again.