Page 165 of Five Brothers

Whatever.

“I am, aren’t I?” he coos.

Ugh.

I face the other way, placing my foot on the edge of the tub and soaping my leg before doing the same with the other one. We switch places, and I rinse, taking the showerhead and washing off my back. He reaches around me to rinse off his hands.

And he stays there, at my back. “I love you, you know?” he says.

I go still.

“You were really good to me.” He takes the showerhead and rinses my spine and the backs of my arms. “I loved how your face would light up and you smiled all the time, and I really neededsomeone to smile at me. I acted like it was nothing, but you’re irreplaceable.”

My heart warms, my chin trembling a little.

“I’m glad it’s him,” he sighs, planting a peck on my temple. “Army is good. He’s not stupid enough to let you go.”

I hang the loofah from a hook, and he replaces the shower-head.

I smile to myself, joking, “Well, he knew I’d be a good waitress. I bet you’re glad he had the bright idea to offer me a job. Now you get to see me every day.”

He chuckles, sliding open the shower curtain again.

I turn off the water.

“That was Macon, actually,” he says.

I pause, and he steps out, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around his waist.

“What?” I whisper.

He nods. “Yeah, he was the one who sent Army after you that night. He told him to bring you back.”

He tosses me a towel, and I catch it, but I’m staring at the floor. Why didn’t Army tell me that?

“And I am so glad he always does what our big brother tells him to do.”

I faintly hear him laugh, and then he’s gone.

Lost in thought, I leave the bathroom in my towel, get in my pajamas, and take the pins out of my hair, letting the locks fall down my back.

I stand at the window, watching Macon outside in the darkness as he moves through the ruins of the old wing.

There are a dozen reasons why he could’ve wanted me here. None of them have to be because he likes me. The one thing I do know is that he’s a mystery to everyone, especially to the people who know him.

I follow him from Liv’s window to the one in Army’s room ashe wanders, the moonlight making the overgrown weeds and palms look blue around him.

I haven’t seen him since the compressor earlier today.

He stands under a rafter, on an old section of flooring made of broken clay that reveals patches of wood and cement underneath. Still and quiet, he stares off like he does all the time.

But then I notice how he cocks his head.

Like he sees something in the darkness.

I follow his gaze, but I see nothing from here. He takes a step, and then another, slow and soft, and then … in one quick whirl, Army rushes up with a stick or a branch and sweeps it across the ground. A snake jumps two feet from where Macon stands, and I suck in a breath, hearing Army yell, even through the glass.

“Jesus Christ, man!” he bellows at his brother. “What the fuck?” Macon stands there.