Page 59 of The County Fair Queen

"Where's Riv?"

My father and the man with the pretty broach mumbled some words to each other that I couldn't make out. "Just give me a damn second," Preston said, but I didn't think he was talking to me. He circled around until he was standing in front of me. "Hey, kid."

"Hey." I tried to wave, but I couldn't move my arms.

"I don't know what the hell they gave you in that ambulance, but you look like you're having the time of your life right now."

"Well, yeah. What's there to be sad about? I saved a bunch of pigs. Maybe. I don't know if it worked or not yet, but I've got a good feeling. And I got to hang out with you. Even got a little high somewhere along the way. Today was a good day."

"Glad you think so," he said with a chuckle. The sound seemed foreign coming from him, but I kind of wanted to hear more of it. He needed to smile more often instead of marinating in all of that silent rage of his. I didn't like the way he hid himself behind his hurt. Bricked himself in with upset and anger. But he was smiling now. A real smile.

"You ought to smile more often. It suits you."

"Think so?"

I nodded. "Bet Jordan would think so, too. If you see him, tell him I said 'hey.' And can you ask him if he's seen Rivers? I have to talk to him. Hug him and snuggle up next to him again like we did the other day." I sighed, probably dreamily. "He's a good snuggler. Have you seen him?"

"Phillip," he said, clapping his hand against the man with the broach's back. "This here is Bobby."

"Hey," I said, attempting to lift my hand and wave, but it wouldn't budge. It was like something was holding it behind my back. I didn't really care for the feeling.

"He's going to take you to see Rivers," Preston explained. "He'll make sure you get to him, okay? You're safe, and I'll be right behind to come and get you."

"You used to come and get me," I said. "Back when I was still a kid, and you didn't hate me so much. You remember when you used to come sign me out from school and take me to the movies?"

"I don't hate you," he said, his nostrils flaring. "I've never hated you."

"You'd take me to the movies, and we'd share one of those jumbo buckets of popcorn. Those were good times." I paused, contemplating. "I think those were the best times." And, because he was looking sad again, I leaned forward and pressed the side of my face against his chest. I wanted to hug him and tell him there wasn't any reason to be sad, because it was a beautiful day, and we'd gotten to share it together. With my hands still stuck behind my back, I had to make do with what I had. "Don't be sad, okay?"

"Not sad," he said, hardly even a whisper.

"Good." I nuzzled next to him for a few more seconds. "I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Quicker than you can say 'Phillip Firecracker,'" he whispered.

"That's me," I said to the other man. "I'm Phillip Firecracker. You're going to take me to find Rivers?"

"I'll take you there now, Mr. Firecracker."

"Good. Yeah. That's good." As we walked toward the courthouse, I glanced back over my shoulder. My dad's eyes were looking a little wet, but it was okay. He just wiped the wetness away and he was good as new.

Chapter Fourteen

FRIENDZONE

The room the man took me to wasn't much of a room at all. It was just an empty space, maybe the size of my bedroom closet back in London. Instead of walls, there were metal bars all around me. The second the doors locked behind me, it was like an awakening. I was still high as hell, but I'd seen enough A&E prison shows to know a jail cell when I saw one. The room stank of stale piss and shattered dreams. Against the wall, there was a cot, a small desk, and a plastic cup filled with water. I paced around my cell, trying to figure out how I was going to get out of this.

Rivers.

Preston said the man was going to take me to him. He must have been lying, because all he did was put me in a jail cell. I needed Rivers. I wanted Rivers. All I managed was a sniffle. Just the smallest of sounds, really. I made my way to the tiny cot andtook a seat, but it was like resting on a concrete slab. There was no comfort to be found in Tallulah lock up. Just disappointment.

"Rivers," I said, just wanting to hear his name. "I'm sorry."

"Don't," someone said. "I swear to God, Phillip. I don't want to hear a single word from you."

I jerked my head in his direction. Rivers was in the next cell over, sitting on the ground. There was a wall of bars separating us, but they didn't have anything on the wall of resentment he seemed to have constructed in my absence.

"There you are," I said. I made my way toward him, dropping to my knees and reaching between the bars. He was just out of reach. "Riv. Hey there. I was looking for you."

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