Page 25 of The Breaking Point

But I was worried about him. No matter how old he looked, I bet he didn’t want to be alone right now.

I got out of bed around eleven o’clock. I listened intently, but I didn’t hear anyone still awake. I got dressed quickly and managed to get out of the house without anyone noticing me.

Then again, I wasn’t exactly the type of kid to sneak out of the house. Ben had done it once or twice before my parents hadput the fear of God into him. But it was most likely because Ben knew he had to keep up his grades to graduate with a hockey scholarship.

I got on my bike and started riding to the rink. It was only two miles away, and despite it being dark out, I wasn’t afraid. Our little suburban neighborhood was quiet. Boring, even. People didn’t even lock their doors at night. The worst crime I’d heard about was when some kids TP’ed Mrs. Jenkins’s house across the street on Halloween.

Dad had somehow gotten the rink owners to let Brady skate any time he wanted. I didn’t know how Dad had managed that, but he had.

When I got there, there was one car in the parking lot. When the single person working there saw who I was, he just sighed and waved me on in.

“If you could get the kid to go home so I could go to sleep, that’d be great,” he drawled, yawning widely.

I shrugged and didn’t promise anything. Going into the arena, I saw Brady skating at the other end. He was passing a puck back and forth, completely focused. He then proceeded to slam into the boards, like he wanted to fight the arena itself.

I’d never seen Brady like this. Sure, I’d seen him fight Trevor at the park, but that’d had a purpose. This just seemed ... self-destructive.

Only when he stopped to take a swig of water did he realize he had an audience. He scowled over at me.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded, skating up to the door that swung open into the bleachers. He eyed me up and down. “Where’s Ben?”

I stuck out my chin. “I came by myself.”

“In the dark? What the hell is wrong with you?”

I wasn’t going to let him rant and rave at me or intimidate me. He wasn’t going to make me cry, either.

“I’m fine. See?” I waved a hand down my torso. “I almost got into a white van but decided not to when the guy didn’t have my favorite candy.”

Brady blinked. Then he shook his head, laughing.

“Dammit, you’re crazy,” he said. He came up and sat down next to me. “You shouldn’t bike around at night by yourself, you know.”

“Since when? This neighborhood is safe.”

“Nowhere is really safe,” was Brady’s dark comment.

I looked especially broody. I stared at him from the corner of my eye. His eyes were red. Had he been crying?

“How’s your mom?” I asked tentatively.

Brady’s mouth screwed up. “She’ll live.”

“I’m glad.” I meant it.

“I’m not.”

I gaped at him. “You don’t mean that.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re lucky. You have nice parents who give a shit about you. My mom only cares about getting drunk and finding somebody to buy her more booze. Do you know she spent money on beer instead of diapers when I was a baby?” Brady let out a harsh laugh.

I didn’t know how to respond to that. I’d been so curious about Brady’s mom that it hadn’t occurred to me that she was somebody like this.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

Brady shook his head. “Why do people always say that? Why would you be sorry? She’s the one who’s a fuckup, not you.”

“But you said she’ll be okay?”

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