***
After an hour of talking to my mom, she’d filled in enough blanks, told me too many stories, for me to doubt the veracity of their words. I was Sammy. Sammy was me. What I had thought was a mere nickname throughout my life was actually my friends and family wondering who they were with, me or Sammy. My mom told me that they could always test who I was by simply calling me Samantha first. If it were Sammy, she’d get mad. It seemed so ridiculous. Sammy seems pretty immature.
My mom left the living room and Mack, who sat next to me on the couch, glanced over.
“You okay? Your face keeps getting paler and paler,” he said.
“Samantha, I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I wish I could go back. I’d do a thousand things differently. I never would have listened to Sammy,” he said in a low voice.
“Mack, I know.” I wished I could say something to make him feel better. He wasn’t the only one to blame here. In some weird way, it was my fault too.
“Well, don’t worry. You won’t have to be around me much longer,” he admitted.
“I sent Blake a text. I told him that you know about Sammy… and that I did the cabin. Pretty sure he’s on the next flight back to Durango,” he said with a sad laugh at his own joke.
I gaped at him. “Oh. Wait, what do you mean you won’t be around? You think Blake’s going to throw you in one of Tonbo’s prisons or something?”
“Oh no. I don’t deserve prison,” he mumbled.
“I’ll talk to Blake. He’ll understand. He’s working with his brother, who did a lot worse things than you,” I said firmly. “Give Blake some credit. You’re his friend.”
“Exactly. And I totally stabbed him in the back. Don’t you see it, Samantha? Stop being nice to me! I’m not worthy of your mercy or Blake’s. Jaxon’s a slave to the bug in him. I’m not. I have no excuses.”
“Except for the fact you were in love. I don’t care if I should hate you, I don’t. And I’m not letting Blake hurt you either.”