himself pulling to the shoulder of the road. A crumbling concrete pad was the only thing left from the gas station that had been torn down decades ago. He stared down the long gravel road, trying for a distant glimpse of the house, but the overgrown foliage blocked it.
Was it really as bad as he remembered?
He didn’t know. Maybe he’d elevated the wretchedness of it in his memory, letting it run rampant in his nightmares and allowing it to have far more power over him than he ever should have.
He touched the gas pedal and turned onto the property, inching down the gravel drive and rounding the bend. The moment he saw the house, his hands tightened involuntarily on the steering wheel. He swallowed hard, only to realize his mouth had gone dry.
It was even worse than he remembered.
Overgrown shrubs grew halfway up the windows, one of which had a starburst crack, as if somebody had smacked it with a brick. The roof was shot. One side of the iron porch railing leaned at a crazy angle, looking as if a solid gust of wind would knock it down. Sunburned paint peeled away from the trim in irregular chunks. The old live oak tree out front was so dry its limbs had turned a dull, lifeless gray, sending dying leaves to their final resting place on the brittle grass beneath. Only one kind of person lived in a place like that.
The kind who had already died inside.
For a moment, he wondered if the front door would be open. Then he realized he already knew the answer. His old man had never locked it. What was the point when he had nothing anybody would want to steal?
Luke killed the truck’s engine and stepped out. He started toward the house, gravel crunching beneath his boots. The porch decking was shrunken and weathered to ash gray, and as he walked up the steps and across it, the boards moaned and squeaked. No doubt they were chewed halfway through by termites.
He put his hand on the doorknob, only to stop short. He stood motionless for several seconds, his heart hammering in his chest. Just go inside. Have a look around. No big deal.
He closed his eyes, gathering conviction, telling himself that seeing inside this house again would put everything into perspective and drive the memories from his mind once and for all.
But then he remembered other things. Things he didn’t even realize had been lodged in his subconscious. Days of misery. Nights of heartache. Years of despair. All of it as fresh in his mind as if it had happened yesterday.
He gripped the doorknob. As he turned it, he heard the raspy squeak of old metal, tripping a memory that sent a chill snaking between his shoulders.
Cursing his own weakness, he let go of the doorknob and stepped backward. All at once, one of the rotted boards he stood on gave way beneath his foot. He tried to grab the doorknob to keep himself from falling, but it slipped from his grasp. As he fell, his knee slammed against the jagged opening. Then more of the board broke and his leg slid the rest of the way through, scraping against the shards of wood, twisting as it went.
Then came the pain.
It was as if lightning had struck his knee, sending shockwaves up and down his leg. With a strangled groan, he righted himself, then put a palm on either side of the opening and hoisted himself up until he was sitting on the rickety porch. Slowly he eased his leg back through the rotted boards, gritting his teeth against the pain that rocketed through his knee. He paused for a moment, breathing hard, and then he swung his weight over to his uninjured leg and stood up. But the instant he put weight on his other leg, he almost collapsed all over again.
He leaned against the door, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. Walk it off. Just walk it off.
He tried. One step, two. But the pain was so intense that he limped to the porch stairs and lowered himself to sit. He dropped his head to his hands for a few seconds, trying to get a grip on the pain. Then he pulled off his boot. Eased the leg of his jeans up. When he saw his knee, the sickening sense of impending loss he felt almost drowned out the pain. He fell limply to one side against the porch railing, closing