“I think you just wanted to kiss her again,” I said softly.
Although his eyes were closed, he smiled. “That too, baby girl… that too…”
Seated on a hard plastic chair beside Preacher’s hospital bed, my chin resting on the bedrail, I watched his ashen features grow slack with sleep. He’d been talking animatedly for almost an hour, and then suddenly he’d gone quiet, staring off across the room. Maybe it was the reliving of his memories that had exhausted him, after keeping them locked away inside him for so long.
God knew I was feeling exhausted myself.
Getting to my feet, I leaned over the bedrail and drew the blanket up to his chin, tucking it tightly around his shoulders. Then I smoothed a few wisps of hair away from his forehead and placed a soft kiss there.
Turning, I found Deuce standing in the doorway, leaning against the doorjamb with his arms folded over his chest. “You alright, darlin’?”
I nodded despite myself. Not only was I learning that everything I’d thought I’d known about my mother had been a lie, but the reality of how sick Preacher actually was, that I was indeed losing my father, was becoming more apparent with every passing moment in his presence.
If only I’d known how sick he’d been back when there would have been time to do something. Chemotherapy, radiation, something… anything! God, if only Preacher had just told me. If only someone had fucking told me.
“Did the boys leave?” I asked, peering around Deuce into the hall.
Deuce dipped his chin. “Most of ‘em. Joe’s around here somewhere. And Tiny, that fat fuck, is snoring up a storm in the waiting room, drooling all over himself, driving me fuckin’ crazy.”
Nodding, I shot a quick glance at my father and released a shaky sigh. When the time came, I knew Tiny would have to be dragged kicking and screaming from Preacher’s side. Despite Tiny’s less appealing tendencies, his loyalty and love for my father was unwavering.
“You know, she wasn’t a junkie,” I told Deuce. Shaking my head, I shrugged helplessly. “Did you hear what he said?” I gestured at my father. “She wasn’t a junkie.”
Suddenly awash with feelings, my eyes filled with tears. I’d hated my mother—a supposed teenage junkie who’d abandoned me—for my entire life, only to find out I’d been hating a lie.
“She was just a kid,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “And she was out there all alone…”
Guilt squeezed my chest. Guilt for hating her. Guilt for never questioning the lies I’d been told.
“Babe.” Deuce held out his arms to me. Feeling drained, both physically and emotionally, I crossed the room quickly and collapsed into them. He held me tightly, crushing me to him.
“If she was livin’ on the streets, she damn sure wasn’t a fuckin’ kid anymore. You know this shit. Ain’t no use in beatin’ yourself up for somethin’ that happened a fuck of a long time ago.” He pulled back just enough to peer down at me. “You feel me?”
I knew he was right, but it wasn’t as if I could help how I was feeling. This was all new information to me, and it was going to take time to process and come to terms with it. Then there was still the matter of what exactly had happened to my mother.
My father was acting as if it were imperative I know all the details leading up to the truth. And I didn’t want to rush him because I wanted to hear all those details, too. But at the same time, I also wanted to skip right to the end.
An overwhelming desire to see my children suddenly swept through me. To see their faces, hear their voices. Squeezing my eyes shut, my gathering tears slid free.
“We should have brought the kids,” I whispered, pressing my nose to Deuce’s shirt, breathing in the familiar, comforting smell of him. “They should be here to say goodbye.”
“There’s still time, darlin’.” He smoothed a work-roughened hand down the long length of my hair. “You say the word and I’ll get ‘em here.”
I tilted my head back and looked up into his eyes. Twin pools of icy blue stared back at me.
“Get them here,” I whispered. “Cage and Danny, they should be here. And Kami, too… she’ll never forgive herself if she doesn’t say goodbye.”
“Done. You thirsty? Hungry?”
“I should eat,” I said. Pulling out of Deuce’s embrace, I wiped my tears from my cheeks and glanced at my father. “But I’m afraid to leave him.”
“I’ll bring somethin’ up for you.” Before I had a chance to respond, Deuce disappeared into the hallway.
“Wait!” I cried, rushing after him. Deuce stopped short and swiveled on his boot heel, causing a passing nurse to nearly trip trying to avoid crashing into him. The young man’s eyes grew wide at the sight of Deuce, a veritable wall of a man, and he hurried off down the hall.
Grabbing Deuce’s hand, I tugged him back inside Preacher’s room.
“The Four Points Rally upstate,” I said. “Did you ever go?”
Deuce scrubbed a hand over his grizzled jaw. “Yeah, I think—yeah, I went a few times back when I was a kid.”
“She was there,” I hurriedly told him. “At Four Points. My dad and my mom were there together the summer before I was born—were you there that year?”
“Darlin’, slow down.” Deuce shook his head. “That was a long-ass time ago, and your old man always had more than one piece of ass hangin’ off him.”
Internally I groaned. Of course he had. I’d never known Preacher without at least one leggy blonde on his arm.
“I know, I know,” I muttered. “But I’m talking specifically about the year before I was born. Think back to that summer. Were you there?”
“Eva… back then I was—” Deuce cut himself off and glanced to where Preacher lay sleeping. “The summer before you were born?” His eyes narrowed and then flicked to me, his expression turning grave. He shook his head. “Wasn’t that the summer The Judge was…”
When he didn’t finish his thought, I felt my stomach flip-flop. “What?” I demanded. “Wasn’t that the summer The Judge was what?”
Looking bewildered, he shook his head. “Eva, what the fuck? Don’t you know what happened that summer?”
Confused, I shook my head. “What do you mean? What happened?”
“You motherfucker.” Deuce sent a seething glare in Preacher’s direction. “You dirty, lyin’ motherfucker—”
“Deuce! Focus!” I grabbed his arm and shook it. “What the hell happened that summer?”
Nostrils flaring, Deuce finally faced me. His jaw was clenched tight, making his cheekbones more pronounced. Angry grooves lined his forehead. “That was the last year they held the rally in Four Points,” he bit out, “because that was the summer The Judge and his old lady were put to ground.”
“What?” I whispered, backing away from him. I shook my head. “No. No. The Judge and Ginny… they died in a car accident.”
Deuce cursed several times. “No, Eva, they fuckin’ didn’t. I thought you knew this shit. They’re your fuckin’ grandparents.”
Shock zinging through my body like mini electrical surges, I fell silent. The Judge and Ginny were about as familiar to me as my mother was. They were almost never discussed, and on the rare occasions I had asked about them, nobody had ever had much to say. Eventually I’d stopped asking.
“God, they were…murdered? At the rally?” Feeling disordered and overwhelmed, I continued shaking my head.
“Everyone was questioned,” Deuce said. “I don’t remember much, just that no one seemed to know jack shit.”
“They never… they never figured out who did it?”
Deuce took a deep breath, his chest rising noticeably, then blew it out slowly. “Wish I knew, darlin’. But all I remember from back then is after the boys in blue told us we were free to go, we got the fuck outta Dodge.”
• • •
Wanting answers, Deuce left Eva sitting by her father’s bedside, googling Four Points on her cell phone. He marched past the elevators and into the small waiting room, finding Tiny exactly where he’d left him—stretched out over a loveseat, sound asleep and snoring.