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Hunter was tempted to go for it first.
He cleared his throat, and his voice didn’t want to work. “What’s going on?”
His mother opened her mouth, but his grandmother put a hand over hers and squeezed—hard, it looked like.
His grandfather’s eyes were like steel, solid and unwavering. “You tell us,” he said.
Hunter bristled. “No, you tell me. You searched my room?”
“A good thing, too, considering what we found.”
Hunter glanced at his mother. She wasn’t looking at him now. “Those are Dad’s,” he said, his voice low. “You knew I had them.”
She didn’t answer. His grandfather did: “I don’t care whose they were. Look at me.”
Hunter dragged his eyes back to his grandfather.
The man gestured to the table. “You think it’s appropriate for a fifteen-year-old boy to have access to these kinds of weapons?”
“I’m sixteen.”
“Don’t get smart with me, kid.”
Hunter gritted his teeth. “I’m not getting smart. I drove here, for god’s sake—”
“Cut the attitude.” His grandfather was suddenly on his feet. “You’re this close to being on the street.”
Hunter was so sick of the empty threats. Especially today. He moved to brush past him, to go to his room, to burrow under the covers until he had to wake up and start another day.
His grandfather grabbed his arm. “Don’t you walk out of here. You’ve got friends breaking in here at all hours of the night, you’re in trouble at school for roughing up your girlfriend, and now we find weapons in your bedroom.”
So Vickers had called the house. Great.
Hunter kept his voice even. “Let me go.”
“You’re not walking out of here until you apologize to your mother.”
Hunter looked at his mom again, wondering how she’d turned into this unraveled mess of a woman who had to be held together by her parents.
He didn’t even know what he was supposed to be apologizing for, but she was looking at him for the first time in days, and the disappointment there was more painful than anything his grandfather could say.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
Her eyes filled and she swiped at them quickly.
Hunter swallowed—but then his grandfather shook him. “You’re selfish, putting her through this stress when she’s already going through a difficult time.”
Hunter felt guilty and resentful all at once. He couldn’t look at his mother anymore, but he didn’t want to look at his grandfather, either. “Just let me go.”
“You’re not staying under this roof until you tell us what you’re going to change.”
“Fine. I’ll sleep in the car.”
His grandfather let him go with enough of a shove to make Hunter fall back a step. “Good,” he said. “You’re already packed.”
Whoa.
Wait.
