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6
Mont Belvieu, Texas
MONDAY, JULY 25, 11:20 P.M.
What’s happening to us?” Carlos joked as he toed off his shoes. “We used to be able to stay up all night, but it’s not even midnight and I’m beat.”
Carlos’s words barely registered because, standing at his bedroom window, Xavier’s heart was galloping in his chest. The blue car was there again. Sitting under the streetlamp. And there was still someone inside.
“X?”
Xavier jumped when Carlos poked his shoulder. “You’re freakin’ me out, man,” Carlos said, his voice having dropped to a whisper. “Why are you staring out that window?”
Xavier stepped away from his window and leaned against his bedroom wall. “There’s a car out there, on the curb. It’s been there off and on since we got home—before noon.”
Carlos frowned. “So? Your car has been on the curb since before noon, too. Because we parked it there.” Then he sucked in a startled breath. “This is what’s had you jumpy all the damn day.”
Xavier nodded. “There’s a guy sitting behind the wheel. Big guy. He’s been watching. I don’t know why.”
Carlos pulled the blinds aside. “He’s not there now.”
Xavier felt as if he’d been punched. “He was just there. A minute ago.” He looked out of the window and squinted into the darkness.
The car was empty.
“Fuck. Oh, fuck fuck fuck.”
Carlos grabbed his upper arm. “Let’s call 911.”
But Xavier knew better. “No, that’ll make it worse, even if they get here in time. My mama’s not here. I’m a Black man and you’re Latino, and we’re here in this house alone. Cops’ll shoot first and ask questions later.”
Carlos grimaced because he knew it to be true. “Then what—?”
A thump made them both jump.
Carlos swallowed. “That came from downstairs,” he whispered.
Xavier tried to remember to breathe. He’d practiced this scenario, years ago. When Rocky had first found him. Rocky had told him what to do.
Get out of the house. Run. Call me.
But he couldn’t call Rocky, could he? Because the man was dead.
Hands shaking, Xavier reached into the drawer of his nightstand, pulling out the gun he’d hidden behind all the other junk years ago. He checked to make sure it was loaded and flicked off the safety.
Carlos’s eyes went wide. “What the fuck, man?” he hissed. “Where did that come from?”
“It was my dad’s,” Xavier said, so quietly that Carlos had to bend closer to hear. “I know how to use it. Mostly.”
Carlos paled. “Mostly? You’re gonna get us killed.”
That might be true. Xavier had a moment of sharp regret that Carlos had been pulled into his mess. He’d known something was wrong. He’d known it. But he hadn’t wanted to seem hysterical.
“We need to get out. That noise came from the garage door. So we can’t go out the front.”
Carlos closed his eyes, visibly fighting panic. “The spare room window?”
Because that was how Xavier had slipped out to meet the guys back in high school. The window in the back of the house opened next to a huge oak tree with a sturdy branch. They could climb down. They’d done it many times before.
