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Lucien sighed. “I’m sorry, kid. You’re right, I did see the bruises. It can’t have been easy for you, living with a guardian who beat you when he should have been taking care of you. But I still can’t let you upstairs. Not until André or Burke say it’s okay.”
“I understand,” Jace said quietly. “But I want to pull my weight.”
Elijah had taken off his headphones and was staring at Jace, his expression sad. “How often did Corey beat you?”
Jace dropped his gaze to his feet, clad only in a pair of Burke’s socks. He was wearing a pair of Kaj’s sweats, which were only a little too short. His feet, however, were several sizes larger than Kaj’s, so Burke had loaned him the pair of socks from his go-bag.
“Every week,” Jace said quietly. “Some weeks, every day. The only time we felt safe was when he went out of town.”
“When he went on jobs,” Val supplied, and Jace nodded.
“Yes’m.”
Because he’d been kept at home, no one had seen his bruises. No one had intervened.
Until now. Val was going to intervene on this boy’s behalf. No matter where Jace ended up, she would be this boy’s advocate, because he had no one else.
“Have you remembered any of the other times when Corey went out of town?” she asked, because just knowing that Corey might have done something illegal on Labor Day was pretty much useless. If they had more dates, they might be able to see a pattern.
“No, but I don’t keep track of the days. Rick does. Or he did.” He corrected himself with a sigh. “He was good at school and wanted to go to college. Which won’t happen now that he’s in jail. Which don’t really matter to you, I know that. He did keep track of the dates that Corey was gone, though. He wrote them in the calendar on his phone.”
“Rick does matter,” Val said, because Rick Gates had been an abused kid, too. That didn’t make what he’d done to Elijah right in any shape or form, but rehabilitation might be possible. “Rick can still get an education, even in jail. But we’ll figure that out later. For now, do you know why he kept track of the dates that Corey was gone?” Then she remembered what Jace had said the night before. “Oh, right. He wanted to be emancipated from Corey, so he kept records of when Corey left you two alone with no food?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Rick wouldn’t talk to André last night,” Val said. “Except that when André asked if Dewey Talley was the driver on Monday night, Rick said yes.”
Startled, Jace did a double take. “Why would he— Oh.” He rubbed his free hand over his face. “To protect me. Rick always protected me. He did my schoolwork and he’d take my beatings, too. Until I got bigger than him. Then I’d take his.”
Lucien looked stunned. “Kid...”
Jace closed his eyes. “I’m just glad he’s alive. Corey kept calling him ‘it’ last night. Kept telling me to put ‘it’ on the lawn. I thought Rick was dead.”
Val tilted her head, studying the teenager. “Rick was nearly dead when he was dropped off here last night. I wondered why Corey would have chanced turning him over to the cops. I suppose he believed he’d killed him.”
When Jace opened his eyes, they were glassy with tears. “How could Corey do that? I knew he never wanted us, but... Rick’s still his brother.”
Val squeezed his hand. “Rick’s still your brother, too. And the only word he said last night was intended to keep you protected from the police. He wouldn’t talk to André last night, but if he knows that you’re safe, maybe he’ll be willing to give us more information. It can only help him in his own case.”
Jace rubbed the tears from his eyes, perking up. “Can I see him? He won’t believe you unless he sees me in person.”
“We’ll work it out when—” She was interrupted when Czar ran from under the table to the front door, barking his head off. Jace quailed and even Lucien looked surprised.
“What the hell, Val?” Lucien shouted as Val rushed to the front door.
“Incoming,” Phin called as he clomped down the stairs. “It’s Antoine. He’s got food.”
A check of the front cameras proved Phin correct. She opened the door wide enough for Antoine—and the three laptop cases hanging from his shoulders—to slide through, then closed the door and took the boxes from his hands. “What did you bring us?”
Antoine grinned. “Lunch from Patty at the Choux and dessert from MaryBeth at the bakery. I love your friends, Val.”
She grinned back. “I love them, too. Thank you for bringing this over.”
He set his laptop cases on the table, winking when Elijah stared in awe. “Hey, kid. I’m Antoine Holmes. I work on Burke’s team.”
Elijah pushed his glasses up on his nose. “Are you related to André Holmes?”
Antoine’s grin flashed brightly against his skin, the color of dark walnut. “I am André’s more handsome and much cooler brother. Just ask Val.”
