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Jace blew out a breath. That was fair. Dianne was drunk most of the time. “Can you hear anything?”
“Nah. But Bobby and Dewey are talking about something. They’re definitely not having a friendly conversation, which just adds to how much this sucks.” Rick returned to the air mattress and landed with a grunt. He eyed Jace sternly, his gaze wild and desperate. “Remember the story.”
“I remember,” Jace snapped. “You’ve only told me ten million times.”
“Well, you’re not too smart. If you forget, he’ll kill us.”
Jace flinched. He wasn’t smart, and Corey might just kill them. But even he could remember Rick’s simple instruction—tell Corey it was all Rick’s idea.
Which was true, but Jace hadn’t known that yesterday. Rick had talked about Corey’s email and made it sound like Corey had sent them to grab that kid last night. Probably because he knew that was the only way to get Jace to cooperate.
But Jace hadn’t cooperated. He’d told the kid to run. Rick hadn’t said a single thing about that, and Jace had been waiting for him to. Maybe Rick hadn’t heard him. He had just been tased, after all.
“I’ll remember.” Jace stared up at the ceiling, wishing he’d never agreed to drive. Wishing everything was different. “Do you think Aaron woulda done it if he wasn’t in jail? Woulda taken us back, I mean?”
He and Rick had lived with Corey since Liam got sick, and it was hell. Corey used his fists whenever they pissed him off. Which was a lot. Aaron had never hit when they’d lived with him. Their oldest brother had said they could live with him and Dianne again, but then he went and got himself arrested. Now they were stuck with Corey again.
“Yeah. I think he would have. That’s why I took the risk yesterday.” Rick rolled over onto his side. His eyes were bloodshot and his whole body was shaking. He was sweating, too, like he had a fever. “Look, Jace, if Corey doesn’t literally kill us, he’s going to make us wish we were dead. And one beating ain’t gonna be the end of it. I’ve been beat enough. We need to run.”
The very thought made Jace excited, anxious, and terrified, all at once. “Where to?”
“I don’t know. I have a little money put away back at home, in my room. We can take it and hit the road.”
Jace stared. “Number one, how do you plan to get away from here? Number two, the cops are looking for us, Rick. We leave here and we’ll end up in jail with Aaron.”
Rick scowled. “I can’t take living with Corey anymore. Plus, the cops won’t find us anyway, if we’re dead. If we stay here, we just might be.”
Jace sighed. “He’s not gonna kill us. He might beat us good, but I guess we’re kinda used to that.”
“He might beat you,” Rick said bitterly. “But he’ll kill me. He already thinks the wrong Gates died.”
Jace winced. Corey had said that. Several times since Liam died. Corey would say that God took the wrong kid. Why couldn’t it have been you? Usually “you” referred to Rick, but every so often he’d say it to Jace. At first, Jace thought it was the grief. Corey had taken Liam’s death harder than anyone except for Dianne. Harder even than Aaron.
But the more time passed, the more Jace thought that Corey really meant it, that he wished the two of them weren’t alive, that he’d trade them for Liam if he could.
Maybe Rick wasn’t wrong. Especially after last night. Still, Jace tried to stay positive.
“He wouldn’t beat you so much if you just did what he said. Or even if you just shut your mouth.”
Rick looked hurt, then angry, before he shut down completely. “Never mind.”
“Hey.” Jace squeezed Rick’s shoulder. “I didn’t mean to make you mad. You’ve only got a few years till you’re eighteen. You can go then.”
“I’m not gonna leave you with him. I’m serious, Jace. Corey will kill us sooner or later.”
The door opened and Bobby stood in the doorway, blocking the sun. “Jace, Dewey’s gonna fix up Aaron’s boat so he can sell it, and he wants your help. Says you’re good with engines.”
It was true. Jace was good with engines. He helped Dewey sometimes, whenever the mechanic came to fix one of Corey’s construction trucks or one of the backhoes. It didn’t happen every day because Dewey had other jobs to do, but it was often enough that Jace had learned a lot about fixing stuff from the older man.
He lurched to his feet, eager to get out of the small room. “Sure!” he said too brightly. “What about Rick?”
Bobby smiled, an evil sight that made goose bumps ripple over Jace’s skin. “Rick stays here with me. Go on, now.”
Bobby slammed the door behind him and Jace heard the click of the lock, reiterating that they really were prisoners here. But at least he was outside. He couldn’t run away, but he didn’t have to feel stifled, either.
And if he checked out possible escape routes, that would help, too.
“Hey, kid.” Dewey waved from down on the dock. He was older, maybe fifty or so. He looked... well, he looked like the homeless guys Jace had seen in the city. His T-shirt was dirty and a little torn, his jeans even dirtier. He had a bushy beard and his hair was long and scraggly, held back in a ponytail. But the man knew engines.
