“It’s not a death wish,” I told Sayer. “It’s more likea… get me out of here wish.”
He stepped closer, dropping his voice so we weren’toverheard. “Where would you go, Six? There’s nothing out there that’s betterthan this. You’d be bored. You’d hate it.”
Frankie said the same thing to me all the time. Idon’t know what that said about me. I just knew what I felt and that was hatredfor this life, for what we did, for what we stood for. I watched my dadstruggle through life at the lowest level. He was either gambling or wishing hewas gambling or regretting gambling. He was either asking people for money ormaking people pay him money or trying to figure out how he was going to paysomeone off. He drank too much and smoked too much and slept around way toomuch.
There had to be more to life than this. There had tobe some kind of peace in living a normal, legal, safe life.
I had to believe that. Because I could not live likethis forever. I could not be my father. I could not grind out the next thirtyyears hopping from one job to the next, living in shitty apartments, alwayslooking over my shoulder.
Or worse. What if I got caught? By one of our marks?Or the police?
How the hell would I survive prison?
“I’d love it,” I argued with Sayer. “I’d get a normaljob and a bank account and a library card. I’d even go to church.”
His head moved back and forth. He didn’t believe me.“Yeah, where? Where would you live this normal,boringlife?”
I thought of the most normal place I could, the mostboring, the most unexciting, the most even-paced place in all of existence.“The Midwest,” I said confidently.
He laughed this time, low and truly amused. It made mystomach flip. It made my heart flutter. It made me question all of my dreamsabout the Midwest and want to throw them away.
“The Midwest? Any place in particular? Or are you justgoing to grab the next covered wagon and see where you end up?”
“Don’t be an asshole.” But I was trying not to laugh.
“No, it’s cool, Caro. I get it. Why stay here and getrich beyond your wildest dreams, when you could go there and live amongst thecorn and cows.”
I smiled against my better judgment. “Exactly.”
“I’m not even sure they have cable.”
“They have cable,” I said confidently. Although Iwasn’t one hundred percent sure about that.
“No fast cars.”
“They have those too.”
“No museums.”
“Where do you think the Midwest is? The moon?”
His smile was wicked, his blue, blue eyes full of thedevil himself. “I just want you to think this all the way through. I want youto weigh all your options. Make a pros and cons list.”
“I’ll be sure to do that.”
He took another step closer to me, his chest almosttouching mine. “You’re too pretty for the Midwest, Caroline. Too daring. Tooindependent. They wouldn’t know what to do with a girl like you.”
I struggled to think straight. “You think I’m pretty?”
His head dropped so that his lips were at my ear. “Ialways think you’re pretty, but tonight you’re making it hard for me tobreathe.”
Now I couldn’t breathe. He lifted his head, showing methe truth in his eyes, the conviction in his expression. “Promise me you won’tleave, you won’t head off into the sunset until you say goodbye. It would killme. You know that right?”
“Sayer…”
His jaw ticked, the muscle popping out a warning thathe was serious. “Promise me. Don’t just leave. At least say goodbye.”
“I promise,” I said quickly. “Of course. Of courseI’ll say goodbye.”
