In Her Eyes by Sarah Alderson (ebook reader for pc and android TXT) 📕

I’m squeezing. We drive in silence all the way to the 101. Gene double-takes as we fly past the turn for the hospital, looking over his shoulder. ‘Hey, you missed the exit.’

‘I know.’

‘Where are we going?’ he asks.

‘Oxnard.’

Chapter 44

The Corona bar sign flickers on and off, on and off. I get out the car, Gene scrambling to follow me. The plastic bag of cash is in my handbag. It’s almost one in the morning and I know Gene thinks we’re crazy coming here at this time of night. He hasn’t even heard half of my plan yet though.

‘Ava, what are you doing?’ Gene says, catching up to me. ‘This isn’t . . .’

I spin towards him. ‘Gene, we’re paying these men the money you owe. We’re getting them off our back.’

I push the door to the bar open and he stops talking.

I’m only vaguely aware of the instant drop in volume and the faces turning towards me. Gene sticks close to my side as I march towards the bar. The barman takes me in with an expression that moves from amusement to annoyance in the space of a second. Sighing, he turns his back on us and reaches for the phone on the wall.

I pull up a stool and sit down. Gene stands beside me, jittery and nervous, until I push a stool towards him and glare at him until he sits down too.

The barman finishes his call and pulls a bottle of Tequila from under the bar. He pours us both a shot. I leave mine untouched but after a minute of waiting Gene picks his up and downs it, wiping his mouth with the back of his arm.

‘Tell me,’ I ask him. ‘Did you get fired from the Bison Lodge for dealing?’

Gene doesn’t answer, which is answer enough. I sigh and turn away, sick to my stomach, and catch sight of myself in the mirror behind the bar, my face all blurry as though someone’s hurriedly taken an eraser to it but given up halfway through trying to make me disappear. It’s only when I focus hard that I realize that the mirror is burnished metal and is distorting everything reflected in it. I look over at Gene, head hanging morosely over his empty tequila glass.

‘Why did you do it?’ I ask him. ‘We gave you everything you ever asked for.’

He nods, not looking at me. ‘I know.’ There’s a pause and I think he’s stopped talking but then he adds, ‘You know, I was eight when I first smoked a joint. My mom gave it to me, told me to take a puff.’

I look at him. How did I not know this?

‘And then she started dealing – you know, at the bar where she worked. And occasionally she’d get me to courier drugs around on my bike. I mean, who’s going to stop a nine-year-old?’

‘Oh, Gene.’

He stares down at the bar, toying with his empty shot glass. ‘When she dropped me here, you know, when she dumped me, I was so happy. I thought this was my chance to have a new start, but then June got sick and . . . I don’t know . . . I’m sorry, that’s not fair. June was sick and I guess I just started smoking again to forget about everything.’

‘I’m sorry,’ I say. I reach across and put my hand on his leg. ‘I know we weren’t good parents to you when you needed us. And I’m sorry we left you with your mom when you were little.’

He shrugs. ‘I’m sorry I was always such a disappointment.’

‘What are you talking about?’

He cocks an eyebrow at me. ‘Don’t lie, Ava, you’re terrible at it.’

‘I’m not terrible at it,’ I murmur. I’m very, very good at it, actually, but I keep that to myself. ‘Are you doing meth?’ I ask him, changing the subject.

He looks at me, wearing a wounded expression. ‘No. I never do the hard stuff. I saw what it did to my mom.’

I frown at him. I didn’t know his mother was on meth. I knew she was a drunk but I realize how little I ever knew about his life with her. It’s amazing how we focus on only what we want to see and what we want to believe, even when the truth is staring us right in the face.

‘And you still deal it,’ I say, unable to keep the harshness out of my voice. ‘After seeing what it did to her?’

‘I’m sorry.’ Gene darts a glance my way, looking for my reaction. Does he want forgiveness? From his tone I’m guessing that he does but I can’t find it in me. How can I ever forgive him? He may as well ask me to give him the moon. He didn’t pull the trigger but the gunmen were only in the house because of Gene and the stupid decisions he made. I can’t even think of the other countless lives he might have ruined by supplying meth.

‘I didn’t want Dad to get involved,’ he continues, his voice low, the words tumbling out of him in a rush. ‘I didn’t know he was going to come here and try to speak to them.’ Gene reaches for my tequila and downs it.

‘When did he find out?’ I ask.

‘Just after the money disappeared. I was freaking out. I needed to pay it back. I didn’t know who else to ask, so I went to him.’ Again, he darts a nervous glance my way.

‘You told him?’ I ask.

‘I told him that I was in trouble with some people. That I needed to borrow money to pay them back.’

‘And he agreed, just like that, no questions asked?’

Gene shakes his head. ‘No, he refused to help unless I told him what it was for.’

‘He knew?’ I can’t believe he knew the truth and still offered to help, and that he pawned my jewelry in order to do it.

‘I told him that if I didn’t find the money they’d kill me.’

My eyebrows shoot up. ‘What? Raul and James told you that?’

Gene shakes