Adam knew better than to ask, but somehow the question slipped out anyway. “Do we have to do this now?”
“Of course we have to do this now, Adam. This isn’t a chore you can half-ass and pretend that you didn’t, or a movie we can pause. This is an argument. It deserves your attention now. Asking me if this can be done later is the same as telling me that this isn’t important to you.”
“This is important to me, which is why I brought it up. But my side of this only got about a minute before we were back on The Selena Show and I was wishing for Tivo, because this is definitely a show I’d delete from my queue.”
Adam didn’t have an issue dealing with it, but he had a big problem with the way she was addressing him, and the entire situation. She wouldn’t come out and say what she was thinking. Instead, she was unraveling, one passive-aggressive statement at a time. Just like her career. It seemed like she wanted to take him down with her.
But Adam wasn’t about to let that happen.
“Just say it, Selena. If you want me to stay up here and talk to you, then fine. You either need to listen and help me, or say whatever is on your goddamned mind and stop forcing me to try and read it.”
“I’m not forcing you to do anything.”
“You’re forcing me to stay up here in the bedroom with you, when it’s obvious that we’re not getting anywhere.”
“You mean you’re not getting your way.”
“Not even close.”
“What do you want from me?”
Adam threw up his hands.
“Are you kidding me?” He started to pace.
“Will you please stop being dramatic?” Selena practically screamed. He’d finally gotten under her skin. “What is it, specifically in this moment, that you want from me?”
“How about a little fucking empathy? How about you see what’s happening around you, instead of waiting around for Sam to call and tell you. How about—”
“Is this where you just make a list of things to insult me?”
“How about you care about someone other than yourself for a change?”
“So, that’s a yes.”
“It’s out there, and there’s nothing we can do to change that. I don’t care what Sam promises you, that cat already scratched its way out of the bag. I’ve been outed. The world knows I’m a killer.”
“You’re not a killer, Adam. Not even close.”
“Close enough. I’m suppressed. This would have been the most earth-shattering event of my life even without the string of murders only miles away.”
“Exactly. And what do you think that does to the credibility of my work? Of our work?”
“Absolutely nothing! What does one have to do with the other? Why are you making this about you, even after I keep begging you not to?”
“Because it’s about me too, Adam. It’s about all of us. It’s about the future that we’ve invested in together. We can’t afford this.”
“What do you mean, we can’t afford this? We’re doing fine.”
“Sure we are, in part because we’re borrowing against a tomorrow that seemed all but guaranteed.” She turned toward Adam, snarling, “And now you’ve gone and fucked that all up!”
“You always told me that I couldn’t stop my thoughts, but I could always control what I did with them.”
“And are you?”
Adam stared at his wife. Couldn’t believe he was having this conversation.
“This is ridiculous.”
“I agree,” she said.
He looked at the door.
“You’re not leaving until we’re done.”
“I’m not leaving?”
He sure as hell would be leaving. It wasn’t like he had much of a choice. The police would surely want to have a chat at any moment. He had to start thinking about where he would go, and how he would survive on the run.
It didn’t matter whether the police arrested him. Just as with Ollie, the questioning would be enough to ruin his life.
And unlike Ollie, Adam had said some terrible, terrible things.
What would happen to the boys, with their father on the run and their mother’s career in ashes?
How dare she sit there and moan about how this was going to hurt her career when she should’ve been thinking about how this would hurt their family?
She finally broke the silence. “No. You’re not. Let’s finish this.”
Great idea.
“Fine. Then why don’t you just say whatever it is you haven’t been saying? I’m sick of smelling it on you.”
“Better than what I’ve been smelling on you.”
More silence. Another glance at the door.
“Don’t even think about it.”
“Too late.” If she’d actually talk about this — not at or around it, but really dig into it — he’d gladly stay. But this pretending … this, whatever it was, he couldn’t be a part of it.
Adam wanted to throw up.
He shook his head at Selena and headed for the door.
He felt slightly better the second he was on the other side.
“Adam … Adam … ADAM!”
He ignored her all the way downstairs. He had to get out of the house. It didn’t even matter where he went, just as long as it was away from this place.
But still, Adam knew exactly where he was going to go.
And maybe even what he would do once he got there.
If he could gather the courage.
Finally. Get the guts to spill hers onto the floor.
Into the kitchen and over to the fridge. He yanked the door like he was trying to unstick it. The thing flew open and the cold air that Adam had been craving started kissing his face.
Banish the thoughts. Before they took control and made him do one of the few things that would make his situation worse than it already was.
Adam closed the fridge, hesitating when he saw Dane in the living room with Levi and their friends. The other boys deliberately ignored him, but Dane turned around to leer at him.
Adam stared back. Without looking away, he opened the fridge again, reached inside, and grabbed a bottle of beer. Then he opened a drawer, pulled out a bottle opener, popped the top of his local craft, and took a swig.
It was easy to hold his smile with the things he was imagining doing to this little punk-ass pile of semen and shit. Adam would love to end him, and could merrily count the ways.
One: I’m going to punch you in the throat, then while you’re choking on your few final breaths I’ll carve a hole in the back of your neck. You’ll be in shock, but quickly understanding that all of the blood will be leaving your body, and that I will use your empty husk to mop it up from the floor. I’m going to shove my fingers into that fresh hole and yank on your spine. Blood will rain when I disconnect tissues. Then I will puncture your organs, empty a one-gallon jug of gas into the hole, and drop a match.
Two. I’m going to—
No. He couldn’t do this.
These thoughts would destroy him.
He nodded at Dane, almost pleasant, and walked toward the door with his beer.
He was worse than worthless, a total pariah.
His kids were never going to look at him the same way again, and it was all his fault.
He opened the door and looked back into the living room before leaving, wondering why Levi and his friends were downstairs at all. They practically lived in the game room. Maybe Corban was upstairs and they were all down here because he and Levi still weren’t talking. They weren’t even watching TV or playing a game. No one was on their phone. They were all just sitting around on the couch, staring at the coffee table in silence.
Dane nodded back at Adam. Slow, like it was some sort of threat.
Right. He was probably going to prison for the rest of his life for being a serial killer, but what really scared him was a teenaged piss-ant with an attitude.
Adam stepped outside and closed the door behind him.
He had suffered long enough, and everyone thought he was guilty anyway.
It was time to do what he’d been born to do, and yet denied all his life.