Page 291 of Bitter’s Sweet
A real one.
Bitter hears it.
His expression changes.
He does not come closer.
That might be the moment I realize I am in serious trouble, because I believe him.
Not all the way. Not enough to hand him everything again.
But enough to believe this version of Bitter exists too.
The man who asks. The man who waits. The man who takes no and leaves it alone. The man who can stand in a garage full of brothers and admit he cheated without turning the confession into an excuse.
The man who killed Razor.
That part remains complicated.
After the contest, I find Bitter behind the equipment shed washing dirt from his hands with a bottle of water.
I stop several feet away.
He sees me.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
“You need something?”
Maybe.
“I want to ask you something.”
He sets the bottle down.
“Okay.”
“Did you kill Razor because of me?”
No hesitation.
“No.”
That answer surprises me enough that I frown.
Bitter wipes his hands on a rag.
“I killed him because I decided he was a threat that wasn't going to stop.”
“He was threatening me.”
“Yeah.”
“So how is that different?”
His face tightens.
Novels you may like ...
