Because I’m ninety-nine percent sure I just saw a tear fall from Carter’s eye.
Probably sweat from the desert heat.
I rev the engine and step on the gas. The bikers recede in the side-view mirror, and I watch their reflections more than the undulating road unwinding in front of me.
They stand like Roman pillars. Like they could weather a storm and still be standing in the same position afterward.
Which is why I’m so confused as to why I saw a tear in Carter’s eye.
I know what I fucking saw.
But I don’t know why I saw it.
I don’t walk into my house like a normal person. Instead, I crash through the front door.
“Oh my god,” I pant. “Sadie?”
I venture into the kitchen, my head low, trying not to catch the clock on the wall.
But my eyes have a mind of their own and go against my wishes.
It’s nine in the morning.
“Sadie?!”
When my call is met by silence, my stomach gets ready to flip. What if Conrad is one step ahead? What if he’s going to get to me through Sadie?
Through Otis?
The sound of brisk footsteps settle my nerves. Sadie waltzes into the kitchen and gives me a slanted smile, a steaming cup of coffee in her hand. “Hey…Carmen.” Her gaze fixates on my hair.
If I’m wearing it down, it’s because I have it blown out. I don’t wear my hair down unless it’s styled.
I guess you could call this styled…if the wind did a good enough job.
“You look like you’ve been dragged through a hedge backward.”
“I’m fine.” I straighten up and walk toward her with my shoulders back. “Oh my god, Sadie, I’m so unbelievably sorry. You’re not gonna believe what kinda night I’ve had.”
“Who was the lucky guy this time?” Sadie’s voice is forgiving, but I sense an underlying lilt of exhaustion.
I remind myself that I’m paying her one hundred bucks an hour, but she still doesn’t deserve to be lied to.
“Make that plural.”
“Huh?”
“I didn’t plan on being back this late. We need to talk. I may or may not have gotten myself into some shit.”
“How much shit are we talking about?”
“Life or death.
“Oh my god, Carmen.”
With Otis distracted in the living room, I invite her to pull up a chair at the table. I sit opposite her like we’re beginning a meeting.
“Otis’s father.”
