More laughter, and I brace myself for the kick that’s coming.
“Is there a problem here?”
I’m so wrapped up in my humiliation that it takes me a moment to recognize that voice. I roll my head to the side and look up. Silas is there, black boots and jacket and hat and that easy smile.
Jason sneers. “Mind your own business, cowboy,” he says.
“This here is my business. Lukas is my friend.”
The three high school boys laugh. “Lukas Loser? Well, I know you’re lying, because he doesn’t have any friends.”
Now the kick comes, right to my gut. It’s not as bad as it could have been, as it’s been before, but it’s enough to make me suck in a breath.
“I thought I asked you to stop,” Silas says, low and quiet.
“Or else what?” Jason puffs himself up, broad football player’s shoulders almost twice as wide as Silas’s slim build.
“Or else I’m going to kill you.”
I blink, thinking I must have heard wrong. But there’s Silas, cool as the evening air and looking unconcerned, like he’s not threatening, just stating facts.
Jason and the Toad Twins gape, first in shock, I think, but then like they’re gonna laugh. The other Blood River Boys come melting out of the night. Jasper, quiet and smiling, hands stuffed in his pockets. Willis, his eyes bright, and he chants, “Kill you dead, kill you dead,” in a breathy, high giggle. Dru dragging farthest behind, his cap turned around to face forward, hiding most of his face in the shadows.
Jason’s not a fool. Well, not that kind of fool, at least. He does the math, figures it’s four—five if you count me, but I’m sure he doesn’t—against him and the twins. He raises his hands.
“Sure. Fine. We don’t want any trouble. Just came to get something to eat.”
“Eat somewhere else from now on,” Jasper says in his low, rumbly voice.
“This diner’s closed … to you,” Silas echoes. “Permanently.”
Jason glances down at me, and I must be smiling because his face goes all dark and furious. “Later, loser,” he mutters, “when your rodeo-clown friends aren’t around.” And then he and the twins are making a hasty exit.
I laugh, I don’t even care that it makes his retreating shoulders tense up or that I’m definitely setting myself up for a worse beating when Silas isn’t around to save me. It’s worth it to see Jason get the smallest taste of the humiliation he doles out to me on the regular.
A hand comes down to help me up and I take it. Silas’s palm is cold, dry, and icy enough to burn. His skin has a glass-slick feel, his flesh stiff. He pulls me to my feet like I weigh less than I do.
“You all right?” he says, dusting me off. His hands on my body make me nervous, but he acts like he doesn’t notice. He looks concerned, like he really cares what happens to me.
“Thanks,” I say. “You saved me.” And he did, in more ways than one.
He presses a cold palm to my cheek, and for the first time our eyes meet. His are a swirl of color, impossible eyes, eyes like deep pools, a child’s kaleidoscope. My breath catches hard in my throat and my legs feel unsteady. Something passes between us, electric and intense. I sway and he steadies me. “Anything for a brother,” he drawls, hand still cupping my face.
“Shoulda killed them,” Willis says.
“Not now,” Silas murmurs over his shoulder.
“He’s right,” Jasper rumbles. “Now we’ll have to hunt. I need to hunt. Now.”
I frown. “What does he mean?”
“Nothing.” Silas smiles at me and I feel a flutter in my chest, like my heart wants to answer him with a matching grin. “We’ve got to go.” He drops his hand and steps away. “See you again, soon, Lukas. You get home. Take care of that mother of yours. She needs you.”
“How do you know about my mother?”
“You told me.”
“I didn’t…”
“See you again soon.”
And then they’re backing into the night, disappearing into the darkness like they never were. My face throbs where I took the punch and I’ve got a dull ache in my stomach, but I’ve never been happier in my life. Pretty sure I could float home. But instead I climb into my car and head home, singing that song the whole way.
* * *
When I pull into the drive, there’s someone on the porch. My pulse ticks up, thinking it might be Silas, even though I just left him at the diner, but it’s a woman. Middle-aged and looking tired, her cardigan pulled tight around her shoulders against the fall chill. She seems familiar, but I can’t quite place why.
“Are you Lukas?” she asks, as soon as I’m within shouting range.
“Yeah. Who are you? And what are you doing at my house at midnight?”
“Delia Day, and I’m sorry about the time,” she says. “I’m the patient advocate and social worker at the Bennet City hospital.”
That’s how I know her. And there’s only one reason she would be here at this time of night. “My mom?” I ask, my throat tightening. “Is my mom okay?”
“I’m afraid not, Lukas. You better come inside.” Her voice is kind. Too kind. It’s the voice professionals use when they’re about to give you bad news.
I freeze, not wanting to get any closer.
“Is she at the hospital?” I ask. I’m shaking. When did I start shaking? “Can I go see her?”
Delia rubs at her arms. “Why don’t you come inside? We can talk about it there.”
And I know. Right then I know exactly what’s she going to say. And I don’t want to hear it, because hearing it makes it true.
I stumble back to my car. Delia Day is calling my name. I make it down the drive, back onto the street. I don’t know where I’m going, what I’m running from, what I’m running to. All I know is I’m running.
* * *
The funeral is short. Mom was adopted and didn’t have any brothers or sisters. After she grew up, she lost touch with her adopted family, and my dad was never a presence in our lives, so it really was just her and me.
And now it’s just me.
Nobody comes to the funeral except Delia from the hospital and the county assessor to hand me an envelope I don’t want to open and a few folks from the church I don’t even know but who seem all right. Landry sends her condolences, but she’s at the diner, working.
Once everyone’s gone and it’s just me and the fresh grave and the twilight of nightfall, he shows up. He’s wearing the same boots, the same denim, the same hat, which he holds in his slender hands. The breeze ruffles his black hair almost playfully. It just turns mine into a windblown mess.
“Where’s the rest of them?” I ask before he’s even close.
He stops next to me, eyes on my mother’s grave. “Thought maybe it would be best if it’s just you and me.”
I look over. Stare at the slope of his nose, the fullness of his mouth. My breath hitches, and he smiles.
“The Boys can be a little much,” he admits. “Sorry if they scared you.”
“They saved me,” I say in a rush. “You saved me.”