Chapters (110)
- Cover
- ALSO BY J. TODD SCOTT
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- PROLOGUE
- I
- II
- PART ONE
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- PART TWO
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- PART THREE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- FORTY-EIGHT
- FORTY-NINE
- FIFTY
- FIFTY-ONE
- FIFTY-TWO
- FIFTY-THREE
- FIFTY-FOUR
- FIFTY-FIVE
- FIFTY-SIX
- FIFTY-SEVEN
- FIFTY-EIGHT
- FIFTY-NINE
- SIXTY
- SIXTY-ONE
- PART FOUR
- SIXTY-TWO
- SIXTY-THREE
- SIXTY-FOUR
- SIXTY-FIVE
- SIXTY-SIX
- SIXTY-SEVEN
- SIXTY-EIGHT
- SIXTY-NINE
- SEVENTY
- SEVENTY-ONE
- SEVENTY-TWO
- SEVENTY-THREE
- SEVENTY-FOUR
- SEVENTY-FIVE
- SEVENTY-SIX
- SEVENTY-SEVEN
- SEVENTY-EIGHT
- SEVENTY-NINE
- EIGHTY
- EIGHTY-ONE
- EIGHTY-TWO
- EIGHTY-THREE
- EIGHTY-FOUR
- EPILOGUE
- I
- II
- III
- IV
- V
- VI
- VII
- AUTHOR’S NOTE
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- Excerpt from LOST RIVER
- LITTLE PARIS
- DILLON
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
- What’s next onyour reading list?
Danny laughed. “I don’t know what exactly to call it. It’s something. We’re close, I guess.”
“But is it serious, brother? That’s the question you need to ask yourself before Miss Courtney comes over here to collect her tip. Know what I mean?” West had a loopy grin on his face—too much beer, too little food.
“Whatever it is, it’s serious enough. Let’s leave it at that,” Danny said, and tossed all the money on the table. There was no use trying to count it out. He’d had too much to drink—more than he’d had in a long time—but was sobering up fast. Thinking about Amé—why he was sitting with West in the first place, and what he was facing when he went back to the Big Bend—was enough to do that.
West was laughing, too, watching the money pile up on the table. Knowing it was time. He stood up and stretched, and winked and waved at Courtney to let her know they were done, and then he turned back to Danny.
“Well, that’s a damn shame, she’s easy on the eyes. But I get it, if your girl is like mine, she might cut you just for looking.” West reached in his pocket for his keys. “Okay, soldier, let’s do this thing. I got what you asked for. Outside.”
Danny stood with him. “I’m not a soldier anymore.”
West laughed one final time and threw one of his huge arms around Danny, pulling him close. “That’s bullshit and you know it. Hell, that’s why you’re here. We’re always soldiers, Danny boy. Always.”
FIFTY
Chris and Amé were standing on his front porch, watching the stars turn on one by one, in almost the same spots he and Garrison had occupied the week before. Fox Uno was inside the house, and Chris could see him through the front window, sitting on the couch, watching TV. The volume was down and the images flashed silently—happy and incredibly good-looking people laughing in a bar of glass and chrome that looked nothing like Earlys—painting the old man’s face in weird colors and shapes.
A small breeze had blown down from the mountains, and it was moving Amé’s hair around, twisting the trailing smoke from her cigarette. She was careful with her embers, guarding them with a cupped hand, making sure they didn’t get free.
Chris hadn’t seen her smoke since that day in front of Mancha’s.
“Mel didn’t do anything crazy, like threaten you or anything like that?”
“No, nada.” She laughed, although it was forced, only for his benefit. “She talked about Jack.”