Page 119 of Nowhere Good

Dillon kept the shotgun pointed at them, shaking. She’d never seen such raw terror on his face. His skin was white as bone, his eyes massive. She’d never thought of him as capable of murder, but maybe he would kill her. He blamed her for everything, and maybe he was right to do so; if she didn’t exist, then this moment wouldn’t either. For any of them.

Maybe, when Dillon took the gun from her dad and pulled the trigger, she’d wake up somewhere else, in another life. Maybe she’d be with Seth. But she doubted she’d be that lucky twice.

Dillon glanced around. At her dad, Claire, Marty, even Seth.

“Oh, man, fuck this.”

Dillon turned to run.

A shot fired.

Claire screamed, clamping her eyes shut and covering her ears. A resounding ring pierced her brain. When she dared to look again, her dad glared, harsh and cold, as he pointed the handgun at where Dillon had been.

“Shit, Dillon, look what you made Detective Winslow do!” he bellowed, loud enough to break through Claire’s muffled eardrums. He hocked some spit onto the ground and paced back and forth again, all adrenaline. “You chicken shit.”

There was pink splatter on the ground in her periphery behind them. She remained frozen, bracing herself for the next shot to kill her or Seth too.

“Ron!” Marty shouted. “That was Dillon, man!”

“Yeah, shit, that was Dillon,” her dad muttered. He snatched the shotgun from beside them and tossed it toward Marty, who caught it.

“How are we gonna clean this up?” Marty asked, distraught. “This was not part of the plan!”

“I know that, Marty, shut up an’ let me think, all right? It just happened!”

The two of them kept bickering, but Claire was petrified. She almost looked behind to see if Dillon was really dead, but stopped herself. Because she knew.

“It’s all right,” Seth said. “Don’t look.”

She’d never heard him so defeated. When she stole a glance to her left, she focused on him, not the legs of the corpse on the ground beside him, not the familiar pair of boots it had on, the ones she’d seen muddy and thrown by the door of her home too many times. Exhaustion and desperation creased Seth’s face, but he still looked at her with warmth. Blood trickled down his forehead, a stark line against his pale skin.

“This is on me, Claire. I knew something was wrong. I’m so sorry I failed you.”

She shook her head. More tears stung her. “You didn’t. You’re the only good thing I’ve ever had. I don’t want you to die ’cause of me.”

“What are you lovebirds yappin’ about?” Her dad stormed in front of them, and Claire hushed herself.

Seth held himself together. “Come on, Ron, we can find a way out of this. There’s always a way out.”

“It’s a little late for that, son. You just watched me blow poor Dillon’s brains out, so I’m afraid you won’t be seein’ tomorrow.”

“Okay.” He caught his breath and searched for more words. “Okay, but you don’t have to kill Claire. Kill me and make it look like Dillon did it. The cops’ll write their own story about how it happened.”

“No,” Claire whined, “no, you can’t die.”

Her dad ignored her and focused on Seth. “Now how would Dillon shoot you with a hole in the back of his own head? Don’t go stupid on me.”

“Shoot me in the lung or something, I’ll bleed slow. It’ll look like I shot him as he fled.”

“Christ, son, you’d really take a bullet for the bitch who dragged you into this mess? Your life’s got way more value than hers. She’s the sole reason you’re about to lose it all, you know that?”

“No, Ron, you are.”

Her dad laughed again. “Well, true enough. You’re thinkin’ outside the box, I do like that. Sadly, it’s not gonna work. I’m sick of relyin’ on these idiots to get things done.”

He pointed the gun directly at Claire’s forehead. She sucked in a breath, her final breath, and closed her eyes. This was it.

“Don’t, please,” Seth begged.