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Authors: Fisher Amelie

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BOOK: Fury
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I pulled her back and studied her. “Go,” I ordered softly then added, “before I make you stay.”

She smiled at me. I bent and grabbed her carry-on and rested it on her shoulder for her.

“Thanks for everything,” I told her.

She nodded, kissed my cheek, and left for security, not another word spoken.

              A funny, dull pain set up in my chest. My brows narrowed at that and my hand automatically lifted there. I examined my feet for a solid minute before realizing I’d been standing still like an idiot. When I looked up, she was already through. I couldn’t find her in the crowd beyond security either.

              Missing her already, I turned and headed for my truck.

 

CHAPTER TEN

 

When I got home that morning it was still dark and I felt an overwhelming urge to take a drink to take the edge off. I parked my truck beside my dad’s, got out, and reached for my spare bottle. I twisted the lid off the top before turning it over, dumping all its contents onto the gravel near my feet, then pitched the bottle with a grunt, my hair tumbling forward with the effort, as far as I possibly could into the field near the tree I’d broken down with Finley. I hadn’t had a sip of alcohol since the night we’d gone to the lake, and I didn’t plan on stopping there. She may have instigated the quit, but I would be the one who would keep it quitted. She’d reminded me I was capable of anything. Capable of horrible things, as any human is, but also of good, honorable things.

My boots bit at the gravel beneath me as I approached the porch. I bounded up the steps onto the wraparound and reached for the handle but before I could pull open the screen door, my dad pulled open the front door, startling me.

I swung back on my heels and stood still as he swung open the screen door, inviting me in.

“Hey, Dad. Surprised to see you up this early. It’s your day off, yeah?”

He nodded and I ducked to enter the house. “I got up to use the restroom a few hours ago and didn’t see you in your bed. I was wondering when you were coming home.”

“I was home,” I explained, heading for the fridge for some orange juice. “I just got up early to take Finley Dyer to the airport. Want some?” I asked, holding up the carton.

He shook his head and fell down into his chair, clicking on the television. “Where’s the Dyer girl goin’?” he asked, stopping on a rerun of
Cheers
.

              “Vietnam,” I said, that ache in my chest flaring up. I took a sip of my orange juice, desperate to relieve the sore and unfolded myself uncomfortably across the couch.

              “
What?
” he asked, meeting my eyes and surprising me. This was more emotion than my father usually showed.

              “She’s doing some charity there,” I explained.

              He nodded approvingly. “Good for her,” he said, tossing his head to the left once. “Glad she turned out as well as she did.”

              “How do you mean?” I asked, sitting up a little, considering his thoughtful expression.

              “Hmm?” he asked, distracted by the TV.

              I set down my cup. “You said you were glad she turned out well. What did you mean by that?”

              “Well, she was taken away from her mama when she was little. It was a scandal then. She seems to be doing well.”

              My heart beat harshly in my already sore chest. “I didn’t know she was taken from her mom. I thought she’d been abandoned. Why is Finley turning out well such a surprise, though?”

              He looked at me with curious eyes. “’Cause of what happened.”

              I sat upright this time, my left hand clenching the back of the sofa and my breath catching. “What-what happened?” I asked, not really wanting an answer.

He continued to stare at me like he couldn’t figure me out. Understanding dawned on him and he settled in his chair restlessly. “I don’t wanna gossip,” he said, raising the remote.

I scooted to the edge of the couch. “Dad, this is important to me. I won’t spread it around; I just need to know what you’re talking about.”

He deliberated a moment, deciding something. His tense expression fell when he’d made his decision then he turned away from me, avoiding eye contact. “Her, uh, her mama got drunk a lot,” he began. I’d known this already. “And, uh,” he hesitated, which he never did, “I guess she would bring all sorts of men around she’d meet at bars.”


Yeah?
” I asked, ready to scream at him.

“Well,” he sighed, “I guess these men would do things to the little girl and the mother would either pretend she didn’t see them or, in my opinion, got paid for them.”

My breath whooshed from my chest and my eyes burned. I fell back, stunned to learn what I’d just learned. My stomach churned with disgust for Finley’s mother and the sick bastards she’d brought into Finley’s home. Memories of Doris Lake came flooding to my mind. Memories of things her mom said to her.
Nothing at all
. Her threatening her to give her to “the bad men.” I felt more sick than I ever had, repulsed by the mere
ideas
of her abuse.
Imagine living them?
I asked myself. My skin heated to an unnatural warmth and hate poured out of me in droves, making my whole body tremble.

“Did they catch them?” I asked Dad.

“No, son, I don’t believe they ever did.”

“So, they just got away with doling out fates worse than death, did they?”

My dad’s eyes bored through me. “No one gets away with that, Ethan. No one.”

I took a deep breath through my nose.

              I stood up, forgetting my orange juice, and clomped across the aged wood floor, each step creaking under my weight. When I reached my room, I pulled my laptop out and pulled up a search engine. I had no idea what I was looking for in particular so I typed in “charity organizations Hạ Long Bay” and pressed enter.

              It yielded me a dozen or so links so I began clicking through each one trying to decipher which one I thought Fin would have chosen. The first two were environmental, which I didn’t think was Fin’s path, seeing as she had mentioned she could relate to the charity itself and I didn’t ever remember her speaking about it like it was high up on her radar. I knew what kind she would have chosen but, to be honest with you, I was praying it was something else. I caught a few pictures of Hạ Long Bay and couldn’t believe how freaking awesome it looked.
No wonder it’s such a tourist destination
.

The third link took me to a site dedicated to feeding the impoverished. I set this one aside to investigate further and was just about to click the fourth link when my phone chimed. I had a text message.

landed in seattle
, it read.

              I gulped down the flurry of questions settling at the tip of my tongue and wrote instead,
how was the flight?

              I set my laptop to the side and moved to the edge of my bed, my leg bouncing up and down, my phone in my hand, waiting for a reply.

             
uneventful can’t believe i have almost 9 hours here

              I typed out about a million replies but erased them all. I had no idea how to talk to Finley anymore. I couldn’t believe what an absolute douche I’d been to her and wondered how in the world she still wanted to be my friend. I’d said some of the most insensitive things you could possibly say and she took it like it was nothing, which made my chest throb.

             
tired?
I asked.

nope. wanna play a game?

always
, I teased, feeling anything but playful.

Finley was out there doing something good for the world. I didn’t have the luxury of not being generous with her. It was the least I could do.

             
ever heard of galcon
, she asked.

Knowing Fin played this game did something strange to my insides. “You are surprising, Finley Dyer,” I told no one.

you’re such a dork
, I replied instead of the truth.

ba ha! I know but it’s so fun. just DL it.

I have it
, I admitted.

A few minutes passed without a response.

okay, fellow dork, i’m in upsilon-2, come find me,
she finally answered back.

We played for at least two hours and when all was said and done, we ended up dead equal. My phone rang.

“You summa ma’ beach!” she exclaimed when I answered, making me laugh.

“Thought you’d have the upper hand, eh?”

She sighed. “Yes, actually. I am a
rock star
at Galcon. You’ve stolen a little bit of my thunder, dude.”

“Sorry. Not sorry.”

“I’m a little flabbergasted, man. I’ve been on the leaderboards for, like, ever. I thought I was going to school you.”

“Please,” I began, then paused, “wait, did you say you were on the leaderboards?”

“Yup.”

I was skeptical. “What name?”

“TailfFin96.”

I couldn’t believe that. “You are screwing with me.”

She laughed. “No, why?”

“I’m Tatooine436.”

“Shut—the—truck—up! You’re Tatooine436? I feel like punching you and kissing you at the same time.”

I laughed. “This is wild.” We’d been trading the second and third spots for months now and I had no idea.

“I’m a little flustered about this,” she admitted.

“It is a pretty crazy coincidence.”

She was quiet a moment. “Crazy is right. I wonder if the number one spot is, like, Patrick or something.”

“Jeez, I hope not.”

We laughed and talked the entire day. I even took her with me on a few errands and then to pick up lunch. We ate together with half the country separating us.

“Ethan,” Finley said after a lull.

“Yeah?”

“What are you gonna do with your days?” she asked. I could tell she was worried.

“I’m gonna get a job, Fin.”

“And?”

“Then, well, just take it one day at a time, I guess. I tossed my secret stash today. I’m going cold turkey.”

“Good,” she said, sounding relieved.

I let the silence set up my next question.

              “Fin?”

              “Uh-huh?”

              “What’s the name of the, uh, charity you’re going to work for?” I asked as effortlessly as I could.

              “It’s called Slánaigh,” she answered. “It means ‘to safeguard’ in Irish.”

              “That’s cool,” I offered with no other questions.

I had no idea what she’d said, which frustrated me to no end. It sounded like
slunug
with the “s” dragged out a little and the “g” had a slight hard “ch” sound like the “ch” in Bach. I knew I wouldn’t even be able to guess how to spell it if I tried, but I didn’t want to press her to find out. It would alert her to my possible snooping, and I wanted her calm for her eleven-hour flight to Seoul. Plus, she’d gone to such efforts to keep it under wraps from me.

Finley had to get off the phone at noon because she thought it would take a while to get through customs. When I let her go, I returned to my search. I perused through countless links searching for anything that sounded close to
slunug
but I had no such luck.

I fell asleep searching and woke when I heard Dad’s footsteps in the kitchen.

I leaned against the doorjamb. I’d taken off my shirt but had fallen asleep in my jeans. “Dad?”

He looked over his shoulder and seemed surprised to see me. “Yeah?”

“I’m, that is, I think I’m gonna try to get a job today,” I said, wrapping my right hand around my left bicep.

He looked down at the bacon sizzling in his pan and nodded his head. “That’s good, son.”

I walked into the kitchen and sat at the table, my legs stretched forward and crossed at the ankles, my hair settled on my bare arms and chest.

“Why kind of work you think you wanna do?” He looked up at me. “Need ranch work?”

              I shook my head. “Nah, I think I’m gonna try something different.”

              He flipped the bacon over and stirred his scrambled eggs. He gestured to his food. “Want some?”

              “No, thanks.”

              “So, what kinda work you want to do?” he asked.

              I shook my head. “I’m not really sure, actually.” I remembered something out of the blue. “I know this park ranger over at Glacier National Park. He told me I’d be perfect for a position they had open. They need someone who knows the land, can climb, etc.”

BOOK: Fury
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