“Get back!” On Joe’s side, a guard notices our exchange and steps toward him. “Keep your hands off the glass!”
Joe turns, gives the guy an easy smile. “Sure thing, boss.” The easy smile is still there when he turns to me, looks me over. “You can’t touch me, Wick. Couldn’t before. Still can’t now. People like you—like your mom—were meant to take what people like me dish out. You were born to be used.”
He waits for me to respond and I can’t squeeze anything past my rage.
Joe chuckles. “Maybe you’re the one who should be worried, Wick. What if one of my friends came by to visit you? Teach you a thing or two about manners? Remember how that goes?”
My mouth goes dry. Of course I remember, and judging from Joe’s smirk, we’re both thinking about the time he left me coughing blood on the carpet.
Remember Jason. Remember. I smile.
And it makes Joe’s smile falter.
“I’ll take my chances,” I say, standing up. It makes me just a bit taller than Joe, who sits with his body slumped in half like an old pillow. “Because I do remember. Everything. Maybe I should start answering all those questions the detectives have. I bet I could tell them even more.”
Now Joe’s standing. He bares his teeth at me, and when he speaks, spit hits the glass. “That a threat? You’ll pay for it.”
I turn around. “No, I won’t.”
40
Thing is . . . if I were really a badass I probably wouldn’t have sat in the women’s restroom for ten minutes trying to collect myself. Not going to lie, standing up to Joe felt awesome.
I just wish my legs would stop shaking.
They only get worse when I spot Carson leaning against my car as I’m leaving the jail. I push my feet, one in front of the other, until my Chucks are almost touching his slouched shadow.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in school, Wicket?”
“Aren’t you supposed to be at work, Carson?” The detective’s mouth flattens and a muscle in his jaw ticks once. “What? I thought we were playing State the Obvious.”
Behind the Mini, the detective’s sedan is parked and running, an officer I don’t recognize sitting shotgun. It’s creepy the way he’s staring at me—like I’m the one that got away.
Which I guess I am.
“What were you doing visiting Joe Bender?”
I shrug. “My good deed for the day. I thought he might be lonely.”
“You’re up to something, trash.”
Interesting how the insult seems . . . chipped . . . like it belongs to someone else. My visiting Joe has made Carson anxious.
“What would you two have to say to each other?” the detective asks.
I’m not sure yet. I’m not entirely convinced I should tell my dad what happened. It’s not that Joe doesn’t deserve punishment. I’m just not sure I want to be the one responsible for his death.
“Considering Joe’s going to be in jail for the next bazillion years, I doubt you have anything to worry about.”
“A bazillion years, huh?” The detective snorts. “Not likely. Joe Bender’s the Feds’ new favorite boy. At the rate he’s going, he’ll be out by next year, so whatever you’re playing at, trash, you should watch your back.”
I study Carson, looking for the lie. “What are you talking about?”
“Bender’s testifying against two other prisoners in return for a reduced sentence. He’ll be out soon.” A lopsided smile kicks up one corner of the detective’s mouth. “Judge Bay helped set it up. Be sure to remember to thank him for both of us.”
“What kind of case?”
“What do you think? More internet bullshit.” Carson shrugs, studying something in the distance. “This is his first conviction and, considering how useful he’s making himself, he’ll be out soon.”
Shit.
“Doesn’t matter to me,” I lie, sounding calm even though my brain is screeching. Aside from the whole do I tell my dad or not? thing, Joe getting out could be a real issue. When he was free, I was expected to work for him. If I had refused, he would have hurt everyone I loved.
And I just royally pissed him off.
Joe promised he could get back at me. Looks like he wasn’t lying after all. Means next time will be brutal.
Which also means there can’t be a next time.
I look past Carson’s shoulder and notice the officer still eyeing us with interest. “You really think it’s a good idea for your clown to see us? Aren’t you a little worried about people finding out how you get your information?”
Carson lifts one shoulder. “I pick my team carefully. I know they’ll stay loyal.”
The same way I do? Through blackmail?
“What did you do, Wick?”
Funny. I’d rather he call me trash than use my name. “Nothing.”
Yet.
I lift my chin. “Are we done?”
“No.” Carson’s attention is pinned to the building behind me. “We’ve been doing a bit of digging in Bay’s woods. Guess what we found?” His eyes flick to me. “More bodies.”
“Whose?”
Carson shrugs. “Not sure. Looks like there are animal and human remains. Whoever did this has been busy for years.”