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The eight hours that followed were a blur. I learned that Nick contacted SFPD after the shooting at Will’s bar. They had a plan to get Will to confess to shooting my parents, but Nick couldn’t get him to talk. It was the detective’s idea to have Nick pick me up and bring me to the cottage. Johnson and Lucy were not thrilled to hear they used me as bait, even though there were twenty members of law enforcement surrounding the property, ready to take Will out as soon as they had what they needed. Matt showing up almost blew the whole thing, but Nick stalled on the lock and gave them the time they needed to mobilize and take Will down without any casualties.
That isn’t totally true. There was one casualty. Devon’s attempt on Will’s life came after Will made a deal with the Devil’s Gold to partner up with a member from their San Francisco chapter. The guy turned out to be an old high school buddy of Will’s. When Devon found out Will was keeping Humboldt, he decided to take him out. He failed and lost his life, taking Arnie with him.
The man who killed my parents, who ruined my life, is behind bars. If it wasn’t for Will Walker, I would have never moved to Eureka. I wouldn’t have met Matt or Nick. I would have never, ever, taken thizz. I can thank and blame Walker for all the good and bad that’s happened in my life over the last six months.
The strangest change is my relationship with Heather. She practically lives in my room these days. Her parents adore Lucy. She helped nurse Heather’s grandmother after triple bypass surgery two years ago. Once they found out she was my aunt, Heather was allowed to come over. Heather knows all my secrets now. She knows I miss Nick. She knows I loved Matt. And she knows some days I pull out the Big Red gum pack and hope to find a pill.
I don’t think that craving will ever go away.
Five months later – San Francisco
I used to walk down Columbus Avenue thinking nothing existed past what I could see—dogs ru
I round the corner onto Union Street and turn to the overweight bulldog behind me to offer words of encouragement. “Come on, Arnie! You can do it, boy!” He can only muster a slight gallop before ru
I unlock the door to my flat, and Arnie pushes the door open with his large round head then scampers to his bed and falls straight to sleep. I look at the clock. I can’t stop time, and I can’t keep ru
I’m only halfway through the first paragraph when my phone makes that tinkle sound. A sound I’ve grown to love, because I know it’s him. Cal-girl c u in 60. I smile, but I can’t ignore the anxiety I feel in the pit of my stomach.
I haven’t taken a pill in months. I don’t want one, but there are times I miss the rush. I don’t think that will ever go away. I haven’t had many moments like that since I left Eureka, but I can recall a few times I would’ve killed for a pill.
The day I told Nick I was going to CAL was one of them.
Things weren’t the same after the incident with Will. Matt and Nick seemed to go back to normal, but there was no denying that something changed between me and Nick. Even after finding out he was working with the cops to bring Will down, I couldn’t forget the look on his face the day he found out I was the one Will was looking for. Some part of him hated me for who I was. What I meant to his uncle. I hated him, too. He became tainted for loving the man who killed my parents.
The day after Matt left for Stanford, I asked Nick to meet me after work. He picked me up and took me to the beach. I remember thinking we’d come full circle. Our begi
I remember the song playing on the radio and the sweet metallic smell of jasmine and burnt oil, the smell of Nick when he stopped in front of Lucy’s house and left the engine ru
“When are you leaving?” he finally asked.
“A week from tomorrow.” From the corner of my eye, I saw him shake his head in disbelief at the short amount of time we had left together.
I felt his eyes on me, but I couldn’t muster the strength to look at him. I didn’t want to see the pain on his face that was so evident in his voice. I watched his hands gripping the steering wheel as if it would fly away if he let it go.
“You’re just going to leave, that’s it?” He paused and ran his hands through his hair. “We’re over?” His strong, confident voice cracked, and he cleared his throat to hold back any sign of weakness.
Are we over? I didn’t even know the answer myself. I never really considered what my choice meant for us. Going to Berkeley was my plan long before Nick Marino was part of my vocabulary. Nick and I never talked about the future, maybe it’s because we were never destined to have one. As I fought to find the right words to say, Nick’s phone buzzed in the ashtray. I glanced quickly at his face as he read the text. The hurt in his eyes was not caused by the words on the screen. He closed the phone without replying and placed it back in the ashtray. His face seemed less hard, less desperate. He looked almost relieved. I thought, maybe he realized that this truly was for the best. We both needed to move on, to grow. The whirlwind drug-induced romance that we shared was too much too soon. We needed to find ourselves before devoting our lives to each other.
The possibility that we could end up together someday soothed me. It made what I was about to say easier. I finally knew what I wanted to say and how to say it, but when I started to speak, Nick stopped me.
“I got into Stanford.” He even allowed himself a small smile. He ran his hand through his hair twice and said, “Do you know what this means?”
I knew what it meant for Nick, an education, a chance at a real future.
“I’ll be closer to you, nothing has to change.” He leaned in close so our faces were just inches away. I thought he might kiss me, and for the first time ever, I hoped he wouldn’t.