“I’m always nice,” I say at the same time my cousin deadpans, “No.”

Will lets out a short laugh and Mason’s face reddens.

“Ivy’s right, though.” Not taking my eyes off Will, I say, “We don’t know him.”

His jaw ticks as he sobers once more.

I turn to Mason. “Not anymore. We haven’t seen or heard from him since we were eleven years old. For all we know, he could be a fucking child rapist—”

“Seriously?” Will says flatly.

“—or a drug addict—”

“I’m a drug addict,” Mason says.

“Recovering!” I take a couple breaths. “Point is, we don’t know him anymore. If this was anyone else, you wouldn’t be this fucking impulsive. Or careless.”

He flinches.

Well, fuck.

I watch as he scrubs his hands roughly down his face, not missing the way his skin pulls at his puckered knuckles. It’s only a matter of time before that pale, scarred flesh splits into red.

He huffs out an angry breath and I hold mine.

Boots shuffle. “I think I’m just—”

“Since when do you give a fuck who I hire?” Mason rushes out, cutting off whatever Will was about to say.

I open my mouth. Shut it. Because he’s right, making a fuss of things is not my modus operandi. A cucumber does not one make by giving a fuck, or whatever it is Yoda says. Not only is caring a neon-sign pointing to where someone should kick to make it count, but it makes you accountable. And I’d rather have no expectations of me whatsoever, thank you very much.

Taking action means taking responsibility, and I just ain’t about that life. Especially when it might involve a certain ghost from my past, who apparently didn’t get the memo that he would not be wanted here. Even if I’m the only one who seems to be thinking rationally.

No. If there’s any hope of me keeping my secrets, then I shall remain the coolest cucumber that ever cooled.

“I’ve always cared,” Ivy pipes up helpfully.

My eyes can’t seem to help but find Will’s again. He’s already looking back at me, brow furrowed with some unnamed emotion.

Mason starts to say something.

“He’s just being a nosy fucker,” I say quietly. Blankly.

My words drop between us like a bomb, silencing everything but the music still filtering through the speakers. I can just make out Staley screaming the final line as the song wraps up.

Will has gone deathly still.

I finally drag my gaze to Mason. “Why now? Didn’t you wonder that?” I scoff lightly. “He’s just like the rest of them, man. Just watch.”

I head over to the bar and toss my empty beer in the recycling bin. It rattles loudly against the others, echoing through the silence.