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“Chet!” A scream from his mother nearly burst my eardrums, and I winced as she came running into his room. “Get away from him!”
I grabbed Chet’s wrist and dragged him, and we were off, racing down the side of his house and onto the street. Tugging my hood up higher, I led him as fast as I could past the houses I’d already gone by earlier, and the woman I’d given the finger to had a couple of cops in her front yard. She pointed at me as soon as she saw us.
“That’s him!”
Fuck!“Faster,” I barked, and Chet picked up the pace, keeping up with me as the pigs began to chase us. One of them was slow, but the other was young and had speed that matched Chet’s, and there was no way in hell we were going to escape unless we found a good place to hide.
“I don’t want to go to the camp,” Chet cried out, sounding teary. “Please don’t let them take me.”
I cursed Jonas’s pretty face because it had started this mess and made me do dumb shit. My grip on Chet’s wrist tightened. We couldn’t go over the river without them knowing exactly where we were heading, and I didn’t want to lead the cops back to Jonas.
“Listen to me,” I snapped as we turned a corner, out of sight. The police officer wouldn’t be far behind us. “Go to the trailer park and ask for Tav. Tell him you’re Jonas’s friend and you’re the one who’s staying with him, okay?”
He blinked as I came to a halt and shoved him. “What?”
“Go. Now.” I pushed his chest, and he nearly tripped, but he nodded and kept running.
I turned as the cop came around the corner. He pointed his gun at me, and I raised my hands.
“You’re under arrest,” the cop shouted, and I sneered at him. “Get on your knees and put your hands behind your head.”
I did as he ordered, falling to my knees and touching the back of my head with my palms as he stalked forward. He grabbed my wrists and secured them together at the small of my back with cold handcuffs. I cringed as anxiety throbbed in my chest. I thought about Leo and his years in prison, and how he’d died in there with no future.
“Why am I under arrest?” I snapped when he shoved me face-first onto the ground, and part of me thought he enjoyed the power over me. He tugged back my hoodie. “I didn’t do anything.”
“You ran from us.” He slapped me over the back of the head.
I growled in frustration. “You didn’t tell me to stop.”
“Kid, stop talking.” The older officer walked toward us, his thumbs hooked into his utility belt. He glared at me, mustache twitching.
“I want my lawyer.” I threw the stink eye at him.
The older cop snorted and tugged off his hat, giving me a glimpse of short silver hair as he wiped his forehead with the back of his wrist. “Do you have lawyers over in that trailer park?” He belted out a laugh as the younger cop yanked me to my feet, nearly ripping my arm from the socket.
I twisted my lips into a scowl. “You’re going to regret this. I’m a King.”
The older officer’s laughter doubled, and he patted me on the cheek patronizingly. “Sure you are. You’re nothing but trailer trash. The good religious people in this neighborhood have put up with that park for too long.”
I growled.
They didn’t seem to care right now as they dragged me back the way they’d chased me. I assumed I was going to the nearest station. I hoped Jonas didn’t blame himself for this.
10
JONAS
My muscles clenchedand I had trouble breathing as I sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the floor between my shoes. It was clean, or at least, it seemed dirt free, but the thin carpet was stained. Maybe someone had kicked off their grungy boots in this spot for years before dropping into the bed. I cuddled Ethan’s pillow close and buried my face against it. His spicy scent tickled my nose, and I dragged it deep into my lungs, letting it soothe me. After a while I was almost breathing normally.
“Please, God, let him be okay. Please let him be okay,” I murmured, shutting my eyes and wishing with all my might. I’d always thought of prayer as an obligation, and Dad said you shouldn’t use prayer to ask for things like Jesus was Santa Claus, but this wasn’t for me, this was for Ethan, and he needed to be all right.
The loud thump of a fist on the door sent my mind into a whirl again, and I snapped my eyes open and stared as my heart hammered against my ribs. When another loud knock sounded through the room, I jumped to my feet and rushed that direction. I was steps from the door when I remembered Ethan had told me not to answer it, no matter what.
“Darn it,” I muttered, shaking my head. I stuffed my hands in my jeans pockets. “Why am I always so stupid?”
There was another round of pounding on the door, and I rubbed my cheeks, staring at it. I flinched with each thud.
“I can hear the floor creaking, you dickwad! Come out here. Dutch has work for us, and I owe you a fist to the fucking face for your bullshit.” That awful tone was familiar, and I bit my bottom lip until I tasted the tang of copper. “Come on!”
