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At least I’d gotten to kiss a guy I liked.
Chet hadn’t had anything.
This was so wrong.
After another hour of going crazy alone in my room, I got dressed, went to the bathroom, and then snuck toward the kitchen. Normally the smell of breakfast would be wafting up the stairs as I went down to the first floor, but when I got to the kitchen, Dad and three deacons from the church were sitting around a table, and they all turned to look at me as I stepped foot on the tiled floor. I wanted to turn right back around and run, but Dad held up his hand. I couldn’t help but notice the deacons were all the younger ones—men who might be able to physically overpower me.
“What’s going on?” I asked, glancing warily from man to man.
“As the pastor, I have to set an example,” Dad said, his voice scratchy, like maybe he’d hurt himself yelling last night.
“And what does that mean?” I asked bluntly, for the first time in my life just blurting the question in my head instead of holding it back and walking on eggshells.
Dad blinked at me, then picked up a brochure from the center of the table. The three men with him stared at me. I’d known them most of my life. They did favors for Dad whenever he asked, and a sense of terror built in my gut as they studied me. Jack Baker was the biggest, and he was probably bigger than Scar with just as many muscles. Not even the glasses on his thin nose could make him look anything other than scary.
“Dad?” I mumbled.
Dad waved around the brochure, and the morning sunlight spilling through the windows caught on the glossy front. “You’re going. Chet will be there. It’ll be good for both of you, and you will leave as friends, cured of this nonsense.”
For a few seconds, all I could do was stare, and then I nodded. “Okay, Dad. You’ve never steered me wrong. Can I pack a bag?”
All the men at the table—including Dad—shared relieved smiles.
“Of course. Only clothes, though. Nothing else. A bookbag will be fine,” he said.
“Oh, okay. How long will I be gone?” I asked.
He didn’t bat an eye as he glared at me like I was being difficult. “Six months or however long it takes.”
I nodded. “And one small bag will be fine?”
“Yes.”
Carefully, I backed out of the kitchen, then walked casually upstairs to my room. I didn’t run because that would’ve only led to those men chasing me. I packed a bag, but I also grabbed my duffel with my soccer gear and everything I had of value, including five hundred dollars I had saved doing odd jobs for people at the church. Last, I grabbed my phone charger, then realized how stupid that was and tossed my phone on the bed. I popped the screen from the window and dumped my bags out, hoping nothing would be broken. Taking a deep breath, I slipped on my running shoes, then refused to look down as I edged out of the window before turning around.
This isn’t good.I gripped the windowsill and lowered myself as far as I could get toward the ground. It was probably still a six-foot drop, but I took a deep breath and let go.
My legs hurt when I hit the ground, and I hissed as a popping, fiery sensation took over my left ankle. I didn’t have time to worry about it, though. I grabbed my bags and hobbled toward the river.
9
ETHAN
Knock.
Knock, knock.
Knock-knock-knock.
I groaned and pressed my face deeper into the pillow as the sound of someone banging their fist on the door of my trailer echoed like a bomb in my head. I’d spent the rest of last night drinking with Tav because—Scottish shit or not—what he had was still beer. I’d told him what happened with the Kings. He seemed proud of me, as if he thought it was safer for me to be with them than here in the park. And he was probably right, too. It was easy to make enemies in the trailer park, and the Kings were about brotherhood. I’d lost my family, and finding a new one was a good alternative. Although, Tav was like an older brother to me.
“Shep, get your arse up now, lad.” Tav’s Scottishness came out more deeply in the mornings, and today it was thick enough to smash me over the head like a baseball bat. “I got someone here to see you.”
“Fuck off, you bastard.” I slapped the bed beside my pillow. “It’s too fucking early. Tell that prick who owns the place that I’ll give him the money in a week.”
Tav laughed and slammed his fist on my door again, and the entire wall shuddered under the force. “It’s not Owen. Get up, Ethan.Now.”
Groaning and cursing Tav, I shoved away the thin blanket and threw my legs off the bed. Still half asleep, I wandered over to the door and swung it open. “What the fuck, man? Why the fuck did you—” My gaze landed on Jonas standing beside Tav, looking every bit as beautiful as he had last night, except for the fear and worry twisting his expression. The morning sun splashed across his face, and he was an angel, haloed by light. “Jonas?”
