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“You’re hiding out.” He takes the last drink of his beer and sets his bottle down. “You’re on the run. I just don’t know why. I’m waiting for you to tell me. And if you don’t then…well, I’m gonna have to share what I know with the police. Because if you’re not running from danger, you’re running becauseyou’rethe danger. You either robbed someone or killed someone. And if either of those are true, you need to be locked up.”
“If you really think I did something bad, you wouldn’t have kept this to yourself this whole time.”
“Which is why my theory leads me back to you being in trouble. Someone’s after you. Someone dangerous. And if they find you they might…” He mindlessly taps the table a few times with his finger, “….kill you.”
I gulp down some air and turn away from him. How the hell does he know this? He should’ve been a detective instead of a judge. He’s good. He’s damn good. And he can read people. He’s reading me right now. He knows I’m panicking. He knows what he said about me is true.
So what happens now? He can’t have me arrested. I haven’t done anything.
“Why don’t you sit down?” he says.
“Why?” I ask, my heart pounding, palms sweating.
“Let’s figure this out.”
I turn to him. “Figurewhatout?”
“How we’re going to get you out of this.” He sounds concerned for me. Not scared of me. Not threatened by me. But genuinely concerned. The type of concern my father should have for me but never has. “You can’t run forever, kid. Now sit down.”
I wish I could trust him. If I could, maybe he could help me. God knows I need it. I’ve been racking my brain trying to find a way to save both myself and my brother but can’t find a solution in which at least one of us doesn’t end up dead.
I sit down. “I’m not running.”
He leans toward me, his arms on the table. “You want help or you want to keep living like this? Always worried they’re going to find you?”
Dropping my head, I sigh. “Just leave it alone.”
He sits back. “That bad, huh?”
If he only knew.
I remain silent as he gets up and goes to the fridge to get a beer.
“Gonna need another one of these,” he says, sitting down again. He pops the cap off the bottle. “We could be here a while if you keep up this silent act.”
“I have nothing to say.”
He chuckles. “You wouldn’t believe how many times I’ve heard that from my clients. But I’m a stubborn bastard. I can wait.”
“You’ll be waiting around for nothing. I’m not one of your clients. Even if I was hiding something, I wouldn’t have to tell you.”
“You don’t have to doanything. But if you want out of this mess, you’re going to need some help. And I’m the only one who’s offered.”
He takes a long sip of his beer, downing half the bottle at once. Then he sets the bottle down on the table and folds his arms over his chest.
“So what’s it gonna be? Continue to hide? Live in a constant state of fear? Or end this shit and have a life again?”
It’s tempting. It’s so damn tempting to tell him the truth and see if he could help. But telling him puts me at risk. I like Hank, but can I trust him? I want to. At this point I could use any help he could give me, even if it were just suggestions of what steps to take next.
But what if he turned on me? What if I told him everything and he didn’t believe me and handed me over to the police? What if he told my father I was here?
I need to make a decision. I tell him or I don’t. If I tell him, I don’t have to tell him everything. I could leave out some details.
He’s staring at me, waiting for me to say something. After several long nerve-racking minutes, I make a decision.
I look him in the eye. “Let’s say you were right. What could you do for me?”
“Depends on what you got yourself into.”
