Page 67 of Catcher

“He came to my house,” I say. “He was desperate. Said he needed money and that he owed people. He made it sound as though someone was after him.”

“That’s because someone probably is,” my dad growls. “And you thought handling this alone was the right call?” my dad demands.

Before I can answer, Catcher steps forward. “He’s not the only one looking for Robby,” Catcher says.

My parents’ attention turns to him.

“What does that mean?” my dad asks, narrowing his eyes.

Catcher’s voice is calm, but there’s tension underneath it. “After what happened last night, Robby has been put on the Kings’ radar.

My stomach drops.

Catcher keeps going. “A guy cornered Ruby and asked about Robby.”

Mom stands. “What?”

My dad’s face goes red. He moves instantly, pacing hard, trying not to punch something. “That’s it. That’s it. This ends now.”

My mom’s expression shifts from fear to anger, her eyes flashing in a way I haven’t seen before.

“I’m fine,” I say quickly.

“I don’t care if you’re fine,” Mom shoots back. “That should have never happened.”

My dad turns to Catcher. “Who was he?”

Catcher shakes his head. “Didn’t recognize him. But he knew her name. Knew her brother. That’s not random.”

“That means they’ve been watching,” my mom whispers, horror creeping into her voice.

“That’s exactly what it means,” Catcher confirms.

I hug my arms around myself, trying to hold everything together before quietly saying, “This is my fault.”

“No,” Catcher says immediately.

“Yes,” I snap. “I should’ve stopped him. I should’ve reported it. I should’ve⁠—”

“You should’ve been protected,” my dad cuts in, his voice thick with anger and something deeper. Then he turns back to Catcher. “I trust the situation was dealt with?”

Catcher nods and says one word. “Handled.”

My mom pulls me into a hug, her arms going tight around me. “We’re going to fix this,” she murmurs into my hair. “You’re not dealing with this alone anymore. Do you hear me?”

I nod, even though everything inside me feels as if it’s unraveling.

Looking at the anger on my dad’s face, the fear in my mom’s eyes, and the quiet, controlled fury in Catcher’s expression, I can’t help but wonder what the hell Robby has gotten us into now.

15

CATCHER

The room goes quiet in that way people get when something ugly has been dragged into the light, and there isn’t a damn thing anybody can do to shove it back where it was.

Ruby’s mother has her arms wrapped around her, holding tight enough that Ruby’s cheek presses against her shoulder. Her father stands near the couch, one hand dragging over his mouth while he tries to swallow the kind of rage a man gets when someone threatens his kid, and he wasn’t there to stop it. His eyes cut to me, hard and measuring, not because he thinks I’m the threat, but because I’m the man standing in the middle of his living room telling him one exists.

“What does handled mean?” he asks.