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They stood in silence for a moment, Da
Evan looked at him quizzically, bounced on his toes, but didn’t move. Ten seconds, twenty, thirty, Da
Then the phone rang, and he unclenched. Debbie had come through. They stood still and listened, two rings, the trudge of footsteps, three rings, four, and then from the kitchen, the sound of a sullen twelve-year-old voice.
“Hullo.” The word dragged out, offered grudgingly. There was a pause, then the voice again, only different, excited now. “Really? I won?”
Da
From the other room, Tommy’s voice sounded like he’d just found out tomorrow was Christmas. “Awesome! What? Sure!” They heard his footsteps ru
Showtime.
Da
Keeping close to the wall, he inched along the hallway. Through an open door ten feet down, the light of the TV flickered ice blue. He could barely hear Tommy’s voice over throbbing hip-hop. Debbie would be telling him that they were about to show his name on the screen.
Da
A VH-1 logo flashed across the flat-screen TV. Tommy stood silhouetted against it, the cordless phone pressed to one ear. He wore jeans and a rugby shirt, and bounced up and down, crackling with energy. The shell of preteen world weariness had fallen away, leaving a little boy excited about the prize he thought he’d won.
It was too much. The facts of what he was doing rattled through Da
He’d thought that by coming, he could control Evan, make sure that Tommy didn’t get hurt. But now, standing here, he realized he couldn’t go through with it. No way. If they left now, no one would be the wiser. The worst consequence would be Tommy’s broken heart over a PlayStation that never arrived. Da
And found Evan pushing past him into the room, making no attempt to hide himself or be quiet.
Holding a gun in his hand.
22
All his wavering vanished. Using his left hand on the door frame for leverage, Da
There was an electric crackling sound, and the boy went rigid and then slumped. Da
He turned, anger surging quick now. Evan stood casually six feet away, the gun at his hip, the arm moving loosely, like the revolver was tugging at it.
“I told you not to bring a gun.” Da
“Yeah,” Evan’s voice was slow, almost a drawl. “I remember you saying that.”
Right then, if he’d a piece of his own, Da
“Hello?” The ti
Debbie’s voice broke the spell. He blew air through his nose, turned away. Picked up the phone. “Yeah.”
Her voice sounded thin, a little scared. “I heard noises.”
“It’s nothing.” He dropped back down to a crouch, checking Tommy’s pulse. It was strong. He turned to look at Evan over his shoulder. “Get the bag.” Da
“Uh-huh. A bodega on Western.”
“Good. Wipe down the phone and go ahead to the trailer. We’ll meet you there.” He hung up.
There was a thump as the bag dropped down beside him. He could see Evan’s battered boots just beyond. Da
“He okay?”
“Yeah.”
There was a laugh. “Electrocuting don’t count as hurting him?”
Da
Evan broke into a mocking smile. “You tried it on yourself?”
“Before using it on a kid? Of course.” He reached in the duffel bag, took out another mask, the eyeholes on this one taped over. “It hurts, but the pain doesn’t last, and there’s zero permanent damage. Which makes it a whole lot better than pistol-whipping him the way you pla
“How long will he be out?”
“I don’t know. A grown man probably wouldn’t even lose consciousness. So call it fifteen minutes. You going to go get the car, or do you want to wait till he wakes up?” He turned back to the bag, pulling out Ace bandages and consciously ignoring Evan, who stood still for five seconds, ten, enough to prove his independence. Then he turned and went down the hall, his boots loud with every step.
Da
Tommy gave a little moan, and one arm jerked slightly. It stabbed Da
Through the floor he felt the faint vibration of the garage door opening. Self-loathing would have to wait. He put the mask on Tommy’s face. “But you don’t know this guy. Believe me, he’d be doing this with or without me. And as long as I’m here, you’ll be safe.”