Читать книгу Chasing Impossible - Кэти Макгэрри, Katie McGarry - Страница 18

Abby

It’s quiet yet not. A low hum of conversation and I feel like I’m floating. I like floating. I turn my head and it’s heavy and the rest of my body is still asleep.

“...so then, let us not be like others, who are asleep, but let us be alert and self-controlled. For those who sleep, sleep at night, and those who get drunk, get drunk at night...”

“Are you exorcising the demons from my soul?” My voice comes out cracked, groggy and I flinch with how raw my throat is.

“That’s the third time you’ve asked that question.” Too many years of drinking and too many years of smoking has damaged his throat. He used to have a smooth tone that I would sit by his feet and listen to, but that, like so many other things in my life, is in the past.

My eyelids flutter open and a weathered man sits by my bedside. He wears a Marine Corps baseball cap and the Bible is in his hands. I squint as I try to understand where I’m at and why. Something happened. Something I should remember...

“You were shot, Abby.”

A throb in my brain. Damn. Just damn. “Bet that wasn’t the first time you told me that.”

He closes the yellowed-paged book. “It’s not. You wake up. Go back to sleep. Over and over again. You look seventeen in your sleep.”

“And not like a monster,” I finish for him. Too many fights between us have caused me to memorize the ending. “Did you claim me or will the good people of child protective services be here to sweep me up into their beams of rainbows?”

My great-uncle Mac bows his head like he’s in prayer. He probably is. When he’s not sipping on whiskey, pretending to be drunk, really drunk, fixing cars or missing his wife, he prays for me. Mac’s one of the real people—both good and bad, both the villain and the hero.

It must be genetic.

“I claimed you,” he said.

My eyes drift closed as I breathe out in relief. He may not agree with my method, but he appreciates the results of my life. “Thank you.”

“If I could exorcise the demon from your soul, I would,” he says as I begin to fade back into the comforting darkness.

“If you could exorcise my demons, I’d willingly tie myself to the cross.” I lick my dry lips and an important memory surfaces. “I had to tell someone.”

Mac sighs deeply. “Someone you trust?”

“More than Isaiah.”

“You could have told me.”

“Can’t. Got to protect you. Got to protect her. They have to think we hate each other.”

He gruffly chuckles. “We do hate each other.”

My mouth twitches up. “See, the plan worked.” And the brief humor dies. “I’m sorry, but it’s not safe. You being here isn’t safe.”

“I’m safe enough. Go to sleep, Abigail, and let me finish Thessalonians.”

I snuggle the best I can under the thin blanket. “Tell them I want Jell-O. The red kind and tell Isaiah I want a bunny. Big and fluffy and with huge ears.”