Into This River I Drown - By Tj Klune Page 0,148

car and the headlights come on. I can see him watching Michael

through the windshield before he turns the car and peels out down the driveway, the

engine a fading roar.

“What in the hell is going on?” Christie snaps. “Who is that man?” “He is kind of scary,” Mary says. “Did you see the look on George’s face? I

thought he was going to piss himself, to be honest.”

“Bad word,” Nina intones quietly.

“Calliel,” Michael says, still facing the way the sheriff has gone. “To me,

please.” His tone leaves no room for argument.

But that doesn’t stop me from trying. I grab Cal’s arm as he starts toward

Michael. Cal pauses for a moment, then looks back and shakes his head, his eyes

resolute. “I must go, Benji.”

“You’re leaving?” I ask, hating the way I sound.

His eyes widen and he pulls me into him. “No,” he says harshly in my ear. “No, I

am not leaving you. I will never leave you. I need to find out what he needs, and then

we can go home, okay?”

I clutch at him.

“We’ll go home,” he whispers, kissing my forehead.

“Now, Calliel,” Michael says.

“Okay,” I mumble and let him go. He holds his head up high and squares his

shoulders as he crosses over to Michael. As much as I strain to listen, I can’t hear a

thing beyond the murmur of deep voices. A hand falls on my shoulder and I feel a

breath on my neck. I almost cringe until I realize it’s my mother. She wraps her arm

around my shoulders, and soon we are surrounded by the rest of our family, Nina

leaning against me on my other side, Mary and Christie at my back, Abe standing

next to my mother, a hand on her shoulder.

From what I can see in the dark, Michael does most of the talking, though his

words seem to be few. He does not punctuate anything with movement, keeping his

hands folded behind him as if he stands at parade rest. Cal stands next to him, head

bowed. One might think it was a defeated pose, but I can see that Cal is merely

listening to Michael’s voice.

“This turned out to be a weird night,” Christie mutters.

“I enjoyed myself,” Nina says with a smile. “So many people!”

“Certainly unexpected,” Mary agrees. “Security, huh? At least they look the part.

All that man flesh. Michael, is it? Don’t suppose he’s a queen like Cal?” “He’s not your type,” my mother sighs as Abe snorts. “Trust me.” “You need to be careful of Griggs,” Abe says. “I’ve told you that before, Benji.

But he’s got his eye on you, and he might have….” He trails off, seeming hesitant to

say the rest.

And I realize this is a moment, an opportunity for someone to say aloud what I

had thought and what I am sure the others had thought about my father. I could tell

them all I know, but I don’t, simply because I want to distance the danger from my

family as much as possible. I can’t bear the thought of one of them getting hurt

because of me. Corwin’s death has weighed heavily on my mind, dragging my guilt

to the forefront for all to see, even if they don’t know what they’re looking at. I

would not survive if I caused the death of another person, especially one of the

people standing near me. My conscience would not allow it. But here? Now? There

is this moment where it seems like we have stepped to the edge of a precipice and all

held our breaths, waiting for one person to have the courage to finish Abe’s sentence.

It needs to be me. It needs to be me because I have had the thoughts every day. It

needs to be me because I am my father’s son and I will not rest until I am sure he can

rest.

“And he might have been the one who killed Big Eddie,” I say.

Michael stops speaking and looks out into the dark again. Cal turns neatly on his

heel and comes back to me, stopping a few feet from where we stand huddled as if

trying to protect each other from a gathering storm. He watches us for a moment, but

I can’t make out the expression on his face. Is he resigned? Defiant? I don’t know. He holds out his hand to me.

I don’t hesitate and step from my family and grab the rough familiarity of his

hand. “Michael would speak with you, if you’d allow it,” he tells me quietly as he

pulls me against his chest. “He says he has words for only you to hear.” “What did he tell you?” I all but demand,

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