I slept very little that night awakening well after 11am, groggy and aching. Kimber didn't say a word to me as I brewed pot after pot of stale, motel coffee. We spent most of the morning and early afternoon in a stretched, uncomfortable silence. I thought maybe she was nervous or scared and today was just the silence before the storm. But as the afternoon wore on I caught her sliding calculated, angry glances across the room as she pretended to read book after book. And that's when I realized she knew.
"What?" I said, finally ending the charade. I hadn't wanted to say it. I'd hoped to spend a few more hours with her before the end because I knew that from this point onward Kimber's last memories of me would be betrayal and deceit. I braced myself for the coming fight.
"You left the room last night. You were gone for hours." She said. I didn't reply. There was no point in denying it.
"And that package you got yesterday from Chicago," she continued. "More fucking heroin?" My heart cracked at the pain in her voice. Kimber was starting to understand what I was doing to her.
"Are you going to deny it?" Kimber asked. And though her voice was angry I heard the plea underneath. Please deny it! Please!
"It was drugs, wasn't it? What the fuck is wrong with you? Why are you doing this, Sam?!" Kimber screamed, flinging her book across the room where it hit the wall behind my head. "You couldn't fucking handle it, could you? You couldn't be there for me when it mattered more than anything in the world. You're weak, Sam. You're fucking weak!"
"I'm sorry." I whispered.
"Where did you go? Where did you go last night, huh? Did you park down the street where I couldn't see? So I couldn't stop you?"
"Kimber."
"You're a piece of shit and I wish it had been you instead of Kyle! It should have been you!" I had often thought the very same but hearing it from her hurt so much more.
"Me too."
My quiet admission seemed to sober her. Kimber squeezed her hands together to still the anger and fear that were spawning wild electrical currents throughout her body that manifested as violent shudders. She knew this was the end, and for the first time since we'd crossed into Missouri both Kimber and I were well and truly alone - we didn't even have each other anymore. We didn't have anything.
"Prescott won't talk to me anymore." She said, more calmly this time as she tried to compose herself. "Does that mean what I think it does?"
"Yes." I answered.
"So you're planning to leave me behind, Sam?"
I took a deep breath and then answered her honestly. "Yes."
"Well that is not going to happen. I need to be there when he dies. I deserve to be there." Her voice was still dripping in acid but she seemed to be steady.
I knew Kimber was right - she did deserve to be there. In a better world she would see him slain and watch the light leave his eyes. But I refused to risk her safety. I couldn't watch Kimber die; she had suffered so much already.
"I need to be there to choke the truth about Kyle out of Jimmy Prescott. And I fucking will be." She stood up and whipped her long hair out of her face. "When are we leaving for the mine?"
