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real feeling for this man in the span of a day. He looked at me. “Don’t worry about it. Right now, I need to get a few things sorted out, and then I can tell you everything. But I’m not going to tell you anything until I have the details, alright?”
    I opened my mouth to protest, but I couldn’t. I actually had faith that he was telling me the truth, he hadn’t lied to me yet so why would he now? And I had to accept that he was going to do whatever he wanted, plus maybe it was a good idea for him to wait until all the details were sorted out before he told me … that way he’d be telling me the full plan, or situation, or whatever it was.
    “Can’t you tell me anything?”
    “It involves the man that you saw today. He’s one of my best friends, as well as Jacob and someone else. They were all very close to Becky too.”
    “Where did he get that scar?”
    “That would be something he’d have to tell you. Sorry, but it wouldn’t be right of me to tell his stories.”
    “It’s alright.” I reached out, took his hand and studied his wrist. The scars, the tattoo.
 
    ***
 
    Her fingers traced over the thin lines that could have ended my life. I froze unsure of what to do. Normally, I’d pull away, but the heat from her fingers felt good. She looked up at me as she touched the most recent one.
    I stole a glance at her and couldn’t help but wonder what she was thinking. If she were judging me … most people did. I pulled my hand away from her, refusing to look at her as I looked around the room, my mind racing. I wanted to know what she thought, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask.
    She reached out and grabbed my wrist, and before I could pull away from her again, her lips touched the cut.
    “I’ve been wondering about that tattoo … then when you took me to the cemetery today it all made sense … it’s her death date, isn’t it?”
    “Yes,” I said, “these scars are old. Becky was the only thing that gave me the strength to stop hurting myself, both mentally and physically.” I’d never had any doubt that I could go to the guys about it, but when you’re 14 and so depressed that every day you think about just ending it, so depressed that the only way to make yourself feel better is to cut yourself … the idea of going to friends you’ve known your whole life either seemed like the only thing you could do or the stupidest thing you could do. “Becky saw them one day by accident. She cried right then and there in front of everyone.”
     
    ***
     
    A soft smile touched his lips. “The guys didn’t understand what was going on. She just kept begging me to promise her I would stop it. That I’d never do it again. She full on had a panic attack. It took me three hours to calm her down, and that was with everyone’s help. The next day, she told me she would never forgive me if I died on her. She bought me a wrist cuff to cover my cuts, and I wore it all the time, every day of my life until …” He stopped dead in his tracks. “Until I went to jail. After I got out, I got the tattoo and haven’t covered it up since. This is my new promise to Becky that I’ll never cut myself again. I just wish she hadn’t died on me.”
    “That’s beautiful.” I managed to make myself sound normal. Jail? What the fuck did he go to jail for? He gave me a weak smile, and I waited a couple seconds until I asked the big question. “So, what did you go to jail for?”
    “Trying to do the right thing. Well, maybe not the right thing but what Dom, Priest, Jacob and I needed to do.”
    “Do you guys still need to do it?” I got the feeling this had something to with the whole ‘I don’t have much time left’ thing.
    “Yes.”
 
    ***
 
    One week later
     
    I’d given up on trying to figure Luke out. The relationship moved fast though, I spent most of my time there and we’d even cleaned out a drawer in his dresser.
    I heard the front door open and the scent of leftover grease hit me. I