“I am. Really. Do you want to have lunch with us?”
Irvin stands next to me, wrapping his arms around my waist.
“Next time. I have to meet Raven’s parents for this family dinner.”
He turns on his heel and walks toward the door.
“Wait,” I say.
He stops but doesn’t turn.
“You should get to know Raven. I think you’re being hard on her. I thi—”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“She reminds me too much of Bailey.”
The silence stretches, then Keanu passes Jameson on his way out.
Keanu yanks his gun from his holster and aims it directly at me. I stare at him. Not scared. I don’t flinch. I stare. Eyes wide.
“You’re the reason my ice petal is in a coma. Her mother is trying to pull her plug, and I ca—”
I let the tears fall down my face.
Irvin nudges his gun to Keanu’s temple.
“I’ll paint this living room red with your blood,” Irvin spits.
Keanu lowers his gun.
I hear Irvin cock his.
“No, Irvin. Don’t kill him.” I place my trembling hand on the metal.
Now Irvin lowers his gun.
I don’t ask him to lower it because I want Keanu spared. I ask because I’m afraid of what I’d become if I were the cause of another death. I’m afraid this urge—to hurt someone—will keep coming back.
And he’s right. It is my fault that my best friend is in a coma.
I slowly walk toward Keanu. I wrap my arms around his waist, hugging him tightly.
“I’m sorry, Keanu. I’m so sorry for what happened to Winter. I’m sorry for what Emerson did to her.”
He stands there awkwardly.
“I’m sorry. If I could take it back, I would, Keanu. I understand your pain.”
I release him and lean back against the wall.
“Get the fuck out of my house,” Irvin says coldly. “If you ever raise your gun to my wife again, she won’t be able to stop me from blowing out your brains.”
Keanu slams the door.
Irvin sits beside me on the couch, and I rest my head on his lap.
