Page 18 of The Unruly


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I force a smile at her. “Damn straight they will.”

She releases one of the twins’ hands and plucks at a longish strand of hair that hangs over my brow. “I’m going to cut this off. It looks stupid.”

This time, my smile is genuine. Aunt Eve has zero filter. It reminds me a lot of Raegan, which has my smile disappearing. “Shave it off. I’m sick of it.”

“After supper. Take me to your mother.”

Turns out, Uncle Atticus brought a lot of stuff we needed. Each visit, they bring new clothes, shoes, and jackets or coats, depending on the season, blankets, prepackaged snacks this family goes nuts over, medicine, tools, books and games, animal feed, and sometimes equipment. He also brings replacement solar panels, bins, buckets, hoses, furniture, and whatever else he can think of. Dad and Uncle Atticus have the supply runs down to a science these days, anticipating our needs and fulfilling them.

Just being able to replenish simple things like dishes feels like a blessing. But the most important items were the medical supplies and medicine. Not long after they arrived, Uncle Atticus forced some antibiotics down Dad’s throat along with some stronger pain meds. Dad even roused long enough to clutch at Uncle Atticus’s shirt.

For the first time since the fire, I feel hopeful.

Now that it’s dark and we have proper dinner in our bellies thanks to hot dogs they brought with them in their RV, it’s time to plan how we’re going to get my family back.

The twins and Dawson went down for the night, the three of them sleeping on a sleeping bag pile in Ronan’s cabin. Aunt Eve has hunkered down with Mom, and both of them watch over Dad and the kids.

The rest of us sit around the firepit wearing glum expressions. Despite the house fire having been long put out, the air reeks of smoke—different than a campfire. It’s nauseating because it’s a constant reminder of what happened.

“We can’t all leave,” Uncle Atticus says. “Some of us will need to stay back to keep the rest of the families safe.”

Nods of agreement all around.

“And, sorry, Chet, but I can’t let you go out there. While you and your sister are with us, you’re our responsibility.” Uncle Atticus shoots Chet an apologetic look. “If you’re here, that’s one less person to worry about.”

He frowns but doesn’t argue. Uncle Atticus is a huge, burly guy. Not someone you disagree with unless you’re not afraid of facing down a giant.

“Rowdy,” Uncle Atticus says to my brother, “I’m going to have you take the lead on this hunt. Ryder and Wild will go with you.”

Rowdy’s nostrils flare, but I’m the only one to notice. I know he doesn’t care that I’m going, but he clearly has an issue with Wild. Their issue goes back years and one day I’ll get to the bottom of it. Wild, always arrogant and sure of himself, smirks like he’s God’s gift to the outdoors when the truth is, he’ll be a liability since his wilderness training is limited.

“You sure you didn’t see my truck while you were driving?” Wild asks for the fiftieth time. “If they put one scratch on it, I’ll cut their throats. All of them.”

Rowdy mutters out, “Fucking idiot,” under his breath.

Uncle Atticus ignores his comment. “Shit might get dirty out there. You boys do what you have to do. The safety of those kids is the most important thing. You’ll bring them back home, you hear?”

We all nod, even Wild, who’s mildly peeved about being blown off.

“Maybe we should drive to town and call the police,” Chet offers. “They could canvas the area and shit.”

Wild snorts out a laugh. “Dude, you watch too much television. You’ve seen the police force in our town. The police chief’s a lazy dick who only cares about handing out tickets to teenagers.”

“Wild,” Uncle Atticus says with a groan. “Stop calling your uncle Will a dick. He’s not lazy, but you’re right about one thing. They don’t do shit like they do it in the movies. We’ll just waste time and open ourselves up to a lot of questions. The last thing either of our families need is a spotlight shone on us.”

His cryptic remark has me curious, but he continues before I can mull it over.

“The sooner we can get an organized hunt going, the quicker we’ll find them,” he mutters. “We’ll have the advantage of surprise as they won’t expect it. Clearly, they think they’ve gotten away easily. But traveling with that many people, a huge portion of which are small children, means they’ll be slow, even with their head start with the truck.”

While he explains how he’ll drive us in the RV tomorrow to look for the truck and then will deposit us there to begin our hunt, my mind drifts back to my siblings.

Raegan’s bratty grin as she wins an argument.

Ronan’s blushing cheeks as he talks about being with a man.

I miss them.

I fucking miss them.

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