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“You can,” Jace said, hating his own desperation. “But—”
“Shut up,” Rick hissed. He shoved something black and soft into Jace’s hand.
Jace stared at it. A ski mask, just like the one Rick was pulling over his own head.
“Put it on,” Rick ordered. “Now.”
And then Rick pulled a gun from the waistband of his jeans.
Jace gaped. “What the fuck?”
“Stop the van.” Wild-eyed, Rick grabbed at Jace’s arm, making him jerk the steering wheel to one side, and the van veered into the curb. “Put it on if you don’t want to live in prison with Aaron. I mean it, Jace. Now.”
Stunned into obedience, Jace pulled the ski mask over his head as Rick yanked the passenger-side door open and jumped out of the van. The kid on the sidewalk stopped abruptly, turning to look up at the pregnant woman. She looked around with a frown.
Don’t hurt her. She’s pregnant. Please don’t hurt her.
Dazed, Jace watched as Rick, still holding the gun in one hand, ran up to the pair and grabbed the boy, shoving him under his arm like a football. He’d made it two steps when everything went to shit.
Rick screamed and dropped to the ground a second before a siren began to wail.
Jace looked around, trying to figure out what had happened. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I have to get out of here. Drive. Leave him.
But Jace couldn’t do that. Rick was his brother.
He’d leave you in a heartbeat.
True. But if Jace left Rick and the cops picked him up, two of his brothers would be behind bars. And Corey would be even madder.
Jace couldn’t make Corey even madder. He just couldn’t.
Making his decision, he burst from the driver’s seat and rounded the van. By the time he got to the curb, the kid had rolled out from under Rick’s arm and was kneeling on the sidewalk, visibly trembling—and holding Rick’s ski mask in his small hand.
Shit. Rick’s face was out there, for all the world to see. Corey’s going to kill us.
“Run, Elijah, run!” the woman shouted. She grabbed at the boy’s shoulder, yanking him to his feet, and Jace glimpsed the weapon in her hand.
A stun gun. She’d tased Rick.
The woman took off running faster than Jace thought a pregnant woman could run. “Elijah, come on!” she screamed. But the boy was frozen in place, staring down at Rick.
Jace rushed to where Rick lay and the little boy slowly looked up at him, eyes wide. Looking every bit as shocked as Jace felt.
“Elijah!” the pregnant lady shouted from the doorway of the laundromat. The look of horror on her face made Jace think that she’d thought the little boy was behind her. She started to run back toward them but slipped and fell back into the laundromat with another scream.
Jace could grab the kid. He could do it.
But... he couldn’t do it. It’s wrong. Meeting the boy’s terrified eyes, he made another decision. “Run,” he snapped. “I said run!”
It was when the kid finally started to run that Jace realized people were beginning to gather, to stare.
To take video. Things had just gone from bad to worse. Goddammit.
Rick was still on the ground, twitching and moaning. The smell of urine was thick. He was going to be so mad.
Don’t think about that. Just move.
Jace hauled his brother onto his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, grateful that Rick was the smaller of the two of them. Jace threw him in the van, closed the side door, and ran to the driver’s side, revving the engine as he made their escape. What have I done?
