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He found a bottle of water and sucked it down before shovingthree more into his almost-empty backpack. He had a pair of worn jeans, twoplain white T-shirts, and socks that had seen better days.
There was food in the cabinet. It was tinned stew, and heate it cold because he didn’t know how to cook it. Boys weren’t supposed to dothings like that. Women’s work. When he’d tried to help his mom, he’d beensmacked and told to be a man.
So he ate it cold and then stole the rest of that, too.
He should move on, but the cot looked so cozy. The cotlooked like paradise. He wasn’t even sure where he was going. He didn’t haveany friends. His brothers were the friends God had provided. There wasn’t ahomeless shelter in Willow Fork. He would have to make his way to a largertown. Godless Tyler probably had a place for people like him. Maybe.
He couldn’t think about it tonight.
He turned off the light and lay down on the cot, pulling theblanket over him. He would rest his eyes for a moment. Maybe half an hour,though he wasn’t sure how he would tell time since he didn’t own a watch. Hisstepfather gave his brothers watches when they were deemed responsible enough.Until then, time, his stepfather said, didn’t matter.
So it didn’t matter. His sixteen years on earth didn’tmatter. Nothing mattered.
He yawned and his eyes closed.
Nothing mattered at all.
Jared stirred at the sound of hushed voices talking.
“Is that who I think it is?” a deep voice asked.
“Sure looks like Jared, though it’s been years since I sawhim up close,” another voice said. “You know the kids call him Grim now.”
He stayed as still as possible, panic threatening. He knewthey all called him Grim. Because he didn’t talk much, didn’t join in on thelaughter even with his own brothers. Laughter was paid for with pain in hishousehold.
“I heard he dropped out,” the voice continued, “and wehaven’t been in school together since his momma quit her job at the resort. Hemoved over to the public school. You’re a snooty rich pants who went and builta whole school so Livie and I weren’t around the riffraff.”
There was a snorting sound. “Sure. I did it to keep you inyour societal class.”
“I know why you did it, Dad.” This voice was younger,somehow, and softer now. “You protected us. If he is who I think he is, youprotected us from his asshole brothers. Don’t. I’m working today. If I’m on therange punching cows, I get to cuss. And that is a family full of assholes. ButJared’s a good kid, from what I can tell. I know I liked him when we wereyounger.”
“He was your best friend in preschool and the cause of oneof the weirdest parent-teacher meetings I ever had to sit through,” the deepervoice continued.
“We don’t run in the same circles now. I’m pretty sure hisstepfather doesn’t let him be friends with anyone outside that cult of his, butSarah and Jess told me they broke down a couple of months ago and he stoppedand fixed their car for them. Said he seemed kind, but his brothers aren’t.”
Jared kept still. Joshua Barnes-Fleetwood. The golden boy ofWillow Fork, Texas. He was known for being a bit wild, and every teenaged girlin town wanted to be with him. Some of the adult women, too, if the rumors weretrue. Josh, who had been his friend until his momma lost her damn mind and sentthem all to hell while she was desperately searching for heaven.
Hopefully the other voice was Sam Fleetwood. Pleasedon’t be Jack Barnes. Please don’t be Jack Barnes.
He’d screwed up. He’d fallen asleep, and now he would likelygo to jail or worse.
Or worse… Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. What the hell hadlife shown him that was good?
“He’s awake,” the deeper of the two voices said with a sigh.“Jared? Son, are you all right?”
Who could have thought the devil could sound so kind? Butthen he’d had a couple of encounters with the woman his stepfather called aJezebel, Abby Barnes, and she was the single nicest person he’d ever met. He’dscraped his knee up real good once at a park, and she’d helped him. She’dexplained how to take care of the wound and to tell his momma what hadhappened.
Then she’d bought him an ice cream cone, and he’d never toldanyone how nice it had been. Even with his knee aching, he’d loved sitting inthe park with that kind woman and her daughter and eating ice cream and feelinglike he was normal for once.
The devil lied. Wasn’t that what everyone in his churchgroup believed? Hell, Barnes was right. There was church, and that was a normalthing. Church was often a good place to be. What his stepfather was involved inwas a cult, and they preached the devil lied and misrepresented himself andcloaked himself like a righteous man at times.
Maybe his stepfather was the devil.
Or maybe his stepfather was simply a man with hate in hisheart.
Jared could run. He could fight. He could believe the worldwas as nasty a place as Ezekiel preached and never open himself up to it.
Or he could ask for help, and if Jack Barnes wouldn’t givehim any, then at least he would have tried.
