BooksBarbecue
Back Never Look Back
Chapters (51)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. One
  4. Two
  5. Three
  6. Four
  7. Five
  8. Six
  9. Seven
  10. Eight
  11. Nine
  12. Ten
  13. Eleven
  14. Twelve
  15. Thirteen
  16. Fourteen
  17. Fifteen
  18. Sixteen
  19. Seventeen
  20. Eighteen
  21. Nineteen
  22. Twenty
  23. Twenty-One
  24. Twenty-Two
  25. Twenty-Three
  26. Twenty-Four
  27. Twenty-Five
  28. Twenty-Six
  29. Twenty-Seven
  30. Twenty-Eight
  31. Twenty-Nine
  32. Thirty
  33. Thirty-One
  34. Thirty-Two
  35. Thirty-Three
  36. Thirty-Four
  37. Thirty-Five
  38. Thirty-Six
  39. Thirty-Seven
  40. Thirty-Eight
  41. Thirty-Nine
  42. Forty
  43. Forty-One
  44. Forty-Two
  45. Forty-Three
  46. Acknowledgments
  47. P.S. Insights, Interviews & More . . .*
  48. About the Author
  49. About the Book
  50. Also by Alison Gaylin
  51. About the Publisher

Anyway, Gabriel is asleep now, so I can tell you about the next thing, which is a lot harder to talk about than the color of my hair.

Back at Pullman Park, Gabriel told me to take all the things out of our car. He walked up to Brian Griggs’s powder blue Honda Accord, and tapped on the window. I couldn’t hear what he said to Brian and Carrie and I couldn’t see if he showed them the gun. But for whatever reason, they let him get in back. And then, they drove away.

They never saw me. I hid in the shadows and listened to the music playing on the car radios. I leaned the duffel bag full of Ed Hart’s things up against a tree and put my head on it like a pillow and inhaled the warm air that smelled like beer, pretending I belonged there.

I didn’t think Gabriel would be that long. I figured he’d probably make Brian drive somewhere secluded and then show him and Carrie the gun, make them get out of the car and walk home. But ten minutes passed, then twenty, then forty. Then an hour. I closed my eyes, just as a way to relax. But I wound up falling asleep instead. I don’t know how long I slept. I don’t even know why I’m telling you all this, other than maybe I’m stalling.

When I woke up, the parking lot was empty, everything glowing from the rising sun. Gabriel was standing over me, the powder blue Honda Accord parked in one of the spaces. He looked pale. His hair was wet. And when I followed him to the car, I noticed a red drizzle on the back of his jeans, his white sneakers. “Did you send them home?” I asked.

He didn’t answer.

“Brian and Carrie. Did you kick them out of the car and send them home?”

Still no answer.

“Where are Brian and Carrie?”

I felt it before I saw it happen. Like a door slamming into my face. The shock of it was worse than the hurt, but I can feel the pain of it now, my swollen, tender jaw, the metal taste in my mouth. At least I didn’t lose any of my teeth.

After it happened, Gabriel kept saying he was sorry, over and over and over. He said he was just nervous and upset and he didn’t mean to hurt me. “I’d never hurt you, you have to believe me.”

I just stared at him. He wasn’t even making sense. How could I believe he’d never hurt me when hurting me was exactly what he’d just done? The worst part, though, was this: Gabriel would never have hurt me like that unless he’d completely lost control. And what had made him lose control? My asking him about Brian and Carrie.