“Those fucking assholes,” Dallas said.
I leaned against the side of the car, the solidness, the hot metal, reassuring, but my legs still felt weak.
“The way he was staring at the photo?” I said. “He looked surprised, Dallas.”
“I know. Let’s get out of here.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
SKYLAR
When Gavin left there was still some light shining through the boards on the window, but the bedroom was mostly dark. I could make out Crystal’s shape on the bed. I wished we could at least touch. I felt ashamed sitting on the floor, in just my T-shirt and no underwear, hated having to use the disgusting bucket.
I tried to be hopeful. A policeman had come to the house. He might come back. We just had to figure out a way to signal that we were inside. But I didn’t know what we could do that wouldn’t alert Gavin. Maybe we’d get lucky and he’d come back when Gavin wasn’t home. We could try to knock something over, or ram the bed into the wall. It felt like a good idea, and I clung to it.
Police meant someone was looking for us. I had to believe that.
After what felt like a couple of hours, Gavin opened the door and flicked on the light. I closed my eyes against the sudden brightness, waited for them to adjust, then looked back at him. Something was different, I sensed it right away. A weird energy was radiating off him, anger but also excitement.
It was the excitement that scared me the most.
He walked in a few feet, his body swaying like he was really drunk. His eyes were glassy, his face sweaty. He was holding a beer.
“Shit’s hit the fan, girls.”
Gavin turned the music down, paced in front of us, staring at us as he took swills of his beer. He set the bottle down on the dresser by the stereo and lit a cigarette, leaning against the dresser as he watched us. He was thinking about something, but I didn’t know what. My body was crawling with fear.
Sounds outside, like a truck pulling up.
Gavin stood up straight. “What the fuck?”
He walked out of the room, closed the door, but I didn’t hear it lock this time. I heard his unsteady steps down the stairs, then another man’s voice.
“Where the hell are they?”
Brian?
“Get out of my house, you asshole.” Gavin’s voice, thick and slurring.
“I know you have them,” the other man said. Sounds of boots walking downstairs. Doors opening. Was he checking the basement? More arguing in the kitchen, then boots running up the stairs—and heavier ones following behind.
I stared at the door, terrified and hopeful. Was someone going to rescue us? What was going on?
Boots running down the hall, stopping at the other rooms, doors opening and closing, then our door burst open.
It was Brian. He stopped still, stared back and forth between me and Crystal, his face shocked. I stayed huddled on the floor, trying to cover myself.
Gavin came in behind him, his chest heaving. “Get the hell out of my house,” he said, giving Brian a shove in the back.
Brian spun around. “You idiot. You have them here?”
“Screw you,” Gavin said, walking toward the bed. I strained my neck to the side, watching him. What was he going to do?
He sat beside Crystal, making the mattress sag, and put his arm around her shoulders. “You remember our little friend.” He pulled her face close, gave her face a wet kiss. “She missed us.”
“You have to get rid of them,” Brian said.
“I’m not doing anything.”
“The police are going to come here, you dumbass.”
“They already did.”
“Are you shitting me?” Brian said, his face enraged.
“I didn’t answer the door.”
“They’re going to come back.”
“Doesn’t mean they can search my place.”
I looked back and forth between the men, their anger scaring me. It made the air feel thick and dangerous.
“How the hell did you even find them?” Brian said.
“This one found me,” Gavin said, smiling down at Crystal. “She had plans to kill us, but I got her first. The other one broke into my house.”
Brian was shaking his head. “I can’t believe you brought this shit onto our property. You’re going to get us arrested. I have a wife and kids, you asshole.”
“You have more kids than you know about,” Gavin said with a sneer.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Brian said.
Gavin walked toward me, grabbed me by the hair, and pulled me up. Then he turned me toward Brian.
“Don’t you see it?” he said, his voice mocking.
“See what?” Brian looked me up and down, his gaze lingering between my legs. I wanted to cover myself, hating that I was standing there half-naked in front of my father, who was staring at me. I started to cry.
“The other one is her aunt,” Gavin said.
“So fucking what?”
“So she’s your fucking kid,” Gavin said, letting go of my hair and moving to stand beside me. I tried to slow my sobs, tried to catch my breath.