Ryan
Granite Harbor, Maine
Present Day
“You think Dubbs is really dead?” Eli asks and then takes a swig of his beer.
I’m caught off guard by Dubbs’s actions. Why would he have gone to the police and told them about the hit on me? He’s my father, yes. But being blood never stopped him from putting a cigarette to my skin. Kicking me in the ribs when I was too loud during the Red Sox game. Punching me in the back when I didn’t get my chores done. It was clear he was incapable of love.
What doesn’t surprise me is that he didn’t come to me first with this information, that Ronan put a hit out on me. We never had the best communication unless it involved a closed fist or other appendages used as weapons.
“No,” I finally answer. “Something about all this seems wrong. There’s no body. I won’t believe it until I see a body. And why the fuck would Ronan have a hit out on me?” I set my beer down at Eli’s kitchen table. Eli’s across the table, Alex sitting next to him. “I don’t know Ronan Fields. Think I’d remember his name if I arrested him.”
Pauly wouldn’t answer that question when asked. Killing a cop is a federal offense. Even a hit out on a cop is punishable with prison time. But proving it would be almost impossible without evidence. But Ronan, or one of his minions, was careless with information because Dubbs heard this somehow.
“But why would they keep him alive? What could he give to Ronan and his clan?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know. But something tells me he isn’t dead.” I look at Alex, concern on her face. “I’m sorry, Alex, for bringing Eli into this.”
“Don’t know why you’re sorry. It was his choice to go, and I understand why. I’d probably do the same if it were Bryce.”
Bryce is Alex’s best friend from California.
I stand and take my bottle to the sink. “Give Em a kiss for me?”
“Drive safe, Ryan,” Alex says.
“Yeah, watch out for bears, asshole.” Eli laughs.
Smiling, I call Hero, who’s curled up by the fire, clearly comfortable but eager to go home, too. He does his puppy hop over to me, and I pick him up and take him under my arm.
My phone chimes with a text message as I say my good-byes, and my heartbeat rises.
Please, let it be Merit, I think to myself as I leave.
I need her voice. The voice that held steady through our formative years. The voice that never wavered.
People will do just about anything for money, but I’d do anything for Merit.
I slide it out from my pocket. My heart jumps out of its rhythm as I read the words across the screen.
Sadie: Home alone again. Come by if you can. I’m lonely and in need of you.
I feel it in my dick. And not because it’s Sadie, but because I picture they’re Merit’s words. Remembering what she felt like. Her tears as they fell down her face when I connected with her in ways I’d never been able to connect with anyone.
I want to feel relief. Relief from all this shit with Dubbs, with Merit. I just need a break. Sex helps with that. Sex without strings attached was a drug I relied upon for years. Used it. Took it when I could. At lunch. In the morning. In the restroom at Angler’s. I see the pattern now. I knew Merit wasn’t coming back those years ago, that I’d fucked everything up. I’d used sex to take away the loneliness. The sadness. It wasn’t my childhood that I tried to escape. That was survivable. I used sex to forget Merit. Tried for years to find someone else. Sex was my solution for a long time. Until the day it didn’t work anymore.
Until my fucking heart said, Enough already.
Sex would feel real good right now, my ego says.
But, when it’s over, you’ll be in the same place you started, my gut says.
You deserve this, Ryan. Merit said she wasn’t coming back anyway, my ego chimes in.
You save lives, ego says. Help recover bodies so loved ones can have closure.
Progress can be slow, but it’s worth the wait. You keep doing what you’re doing, and you’ll keep getting what you’re getting, my gut yells.
Merit makes me happy.
Hero makes me happy.
Being part of an entity I believe in, the Maine Warden Service, makes me happy.
I text Sadie back.
Me: No more. I’m done. I can’t do that anymore.
I can’t keep running.
Sadie texts back.
Sadie: Fuck you.
I laugh as I throw my phone in the pocket just below my dashboard. I flip on my headlights and drive the hour home to Hallowell.
I need to move back to Granite Harbor. I make a mental note.
Granite Harbor has always been home. Even if I had a shitty upbringing, the Young family always made up for it.