Page 178 of Red Marked

“He goes out of his way to avoid you. Have you noticed that? He won’t even look at you. It takes real effort to ignore someone that hard, Star. Nobody works that hard at nothing.”

“You’re wrong. He can’t wait to be rid of me.” I say it lightly. “I’m a thorn in his side. The sooner this is over, the happier he’ll be. I have a lead I’m hoping pans out into a name…or at least into something solid. We head back to Mistveil City in two days. I want this whole thing out in the open. The cover-up, all of it. Then I can get on with my life.”

Rift opens her mouth as if she’s got another argument loaded, but Atlas’s voice carries across the lawn before she gets it out.

“Food’s up!”

That’s the end of that conversation, and I’m grateful.

Shit!

We have to be more careful. Flint needs to get over his shit already, or people will notice that something is up between us.

We fall into a loose line at the grill, paper plates in hand. Dane forks steaks onto whoever holds a plate out long enough. Atlas argues with Brian about whether a hot dog counts as a real meal, and Brian defends his choice like his life depends on it. Rex settles it by stealing the hot dog off Brian’s plate and eating it himself, which starts an entirely new argument.

“You’re all animals,” Rift says, spooning coleslaw onto her plate.

“Technically, yes,” Rex says, and that gets a laugh out of everyone, even Dane.

“Even you, Brian,” she tells him.

“Coming from you, that’s a compliment.” Brian beams.

Rex catches my eye with a second bottle already in hand. “You’re empty. Do you want another one?”

I check. I am. “Sure. Thanks.”

He passes it over and moves on to refill Rift’s. I carry my plate to the long table, where everyone’s already claiming seats, elbows knocking, plates crowding for space.

Flint chooses the far end. He keeps his eyes off me completely as he sits and gets pulled straight into whatever Atlas is saying.

Rift’s wrong.

He’s angry; that’s all this is. He made it plenty clear where things stand between us. He isn’t the settling-down type, nor is he the family type, and I am, eventually, whether I like admitting it or not.

We don’t fit.

The sex was good. I wouldn’t turn down more of it if it were offered. But that’s all there is.

I cut into my steak and eat. I hope this lead pans out because it’s all we have. It’s all we may ever have. I need to get back to my own life, whatever that even looks like now.

My family. My brother, who I haven’t laid eyes on in years. The females still stuck on that mountain, waiting for me to come back and finish what I started.

We have to find the ones behind this.

This has to be over soon.

I don’t want to inconvenience Flint any more than I already have.

51

Flint

Star lasts maybe ten minutes after the plates are cleared. She thanks Atlas for the steak and Brian for the beer. Then she lifts a hand to the table.

“I have a couple of things I still need to do before bed,” she says. “Good night, everyone. Thanks for the lovely dinner,” she tells Rift.

“Lightweight,” Brian mutters, smiling.