Blue Moon   ::   Гамильтон Лорел

Jason answered, "Death."

"Most packs don't hold to the old laws anymore, and you both know it," Patrick said.

"Look, Patrick, I don't have time to explain it all, so here's the Reader's Digest version. Niley and crew raped and tortured Richard's mother and brother. We are going to kill them for that. All of them."

"What about Sheriff Wilkes and his men?"

"If Thompson helped rape Richard's mom, then he wasn't the only one. Anyone who touched either of them is dead. Do you understand that, Patrick? Dead."

"I can't do it," he said.

"Then stay in the car," I said, "but shut the fuck up or I'm going to shoot you."

"See," he said, "see, your conscience is bothering you."

I glanced at him huddled in the dark. "No, my conscience isn't bothering me. Not yet. Maybe later. Maybe not. But now, tonight, I don't feel bad about what I did. I wanted Thompson to hurt. I wanted to punish him for what he did. And you know what, Patrick? It wasn't enough. It will never be enough, because I killed him too fucking quick." Tears were threatening at the back of my throat again. When the numbness and anger wore off, I was going to be in trouble. I had to hold onto the adrenaline, the rage. It would see me through the night. Tomorrow, well, we'd see.

"There had to be another way," Patrick said.

"I didn't hear you offering any suggestions at the time."

"What's bothering the good doctor," Jason said, "is that he didn't say anything. He didn't do anything to stop us."

I appreciated the "us."

"I didn't hold him down," Patrick said. "I didn't touch him."

"All you had to do was say, 'Stop, don't, but you kept quiet. You let us chop him up. You let us kill him and didn't say a damn word," Jason said. "Your conscience wasn't working so hard while he was still alive."

Patrick didn't say anything for a long time. We bumped over the road, avoiding tree branches and dirt-filled holes. There was nothing but the darkness, the golden tunnel of headlights, and the engine-filled silence. I wasn't sure silence was my favorite thing right now, but it was better than listening to Patrick tell me what a monster I was. I agreed with him, which made it harder to hear.

Then something filled the silence that was even harder to hear. Patrick was crying. He huddled against the far door, as far from both of us as he could get, and cried softly. Finally, he said, "You're right. I did nothing, and that will haunt me for the rest of my days."

"Join the club," I said.

He peered at me through the darkness.