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“No.” Lilah shook her head. “A few months ago.”
Becca was having a hard time figuring out how to play this. Tyler and Seth were cruel, true bullies. But was she in a position to defend Chris and his brothers? “And?”
“They sent two. The Merricks killed them.”
“I don’t believe you.”
With what we are, it’s easy to commit a crime without evidence. Very easy.
Too easy.
Dismay must have been written on her face. Lilah nodded. “You believe me.”
Becca couldn’t think over the rush of her heartbeat.
“You need more?” said Lilah. “Chris and Gabriel tried to blow up Tyler’s truck Wednesday night. Sure, the cops caught them before they could do anything—but who knows what more would have happened?”
That had been the same night she’d driven Chris home. She remembered the way Chris had slouched into school Thursday. He’d looked like crap, but she’d attributed that to the fight she’d rescued him from. Had he gone out and picked another? “They tried to—blow up—”
“His truck. By lighting bags of fertilizer on fire. Do you know how big those things explode? Do you know they could have killed people? Innocent people.”
Becca stared at her.
“Look it up,” said Lilah. “There’s a police blotter in the Sunday paper.”
She would. When she got home, she would.
He’d fed her that song and dance about how they were being persecuted, when two nights earlier he’d been bombing Tyler’s truck?
“Tyler and Seth—they’re cruel,” Lilah said. “But it’s not because they want to be. It’s because we have to be.”
She took a step back. Becca just stared at her.
“Yeah,” said Lilah, “I don’t think you have to worry about the Guides. I don’t think you have to worry about them at all.” She turned and started to walk away.
Then she paused and called over her shoulder. “I just think you need to worry about the Merricks.”
Becca tried to get it together before leaving the store. Her feelings kept jerking her around. She was afraid of these mysterious Guides—but pissed at Chris for feeding her a line of crap. She hated Tyler and Seth—but if they were just defending themselves, were they really the bullies?
It reminded her of Quinn’s question, about the night she’d saved Chris. Had she helped the right guy? Or had she just followed the natural instinct to help the victim?
When the electronic doors opened, she stepped into the blinding sunlight. She wanted to call Quinn, to tell her everything.
But Quinn was such a drama queen, she’d probably drive straight to the Merricks’ house to start rolling heads.
Anger is not our friend right now.
Had that been a warning? Or a threat?
Not like there was really a difference.
“Becca.”
Her name hit her like a gunshot. She almost stumbled.
Hunter sat on the long iron bench in front of the store. He wore a green long-sleeved shirt with a pattern of thorns over the heart and down one arm, paired with worn jeans and Doc Martens. Casper lay on the concrete in front of him, ears at half-mast, his tongue hanging out.
Hunter looked good. Normal. Safe.
