Page 51 of Snow in Texas

“A civilian riding club. The Red Riders.”

“Right. Go on.”

Pup took a deep breath, sounding shaky and terrified. “He used to let me ride with him sometimes. When Mom and Dad were fighting, when…Well, he got me to loving bikes. I always wanted to be a Lean Dog. We used to see you guys, sometimes, in formation going down the street.” He tried to smile. “I wanted it more than anything, to be a Dog.”

“But you didn’t come running to us the second you turned eighteen, did you?”

Colin folded his arms and braced his feet apart to take some of the tension off his back. This was going to take a while, apparently. Candy wasn’t just interrogating – he was starting at the beginning, going back over every story the kid had ever told them, searching for holes and mistakes. That was the beauty of lies: the liar so rarely remembered what he made up a few months before.

Pup gulped. “I had to get a job.”

“How’d that work out?”

“Fine. Until…” His eyes dropped again.

“Say it.”

“I fucked around with the boss’s daughter and he fired me.”

Colin hadn’t been expectingthat, of all things. He caught his smile before it could bloom. Skinny little Pup, breaking boss’s daughter’s hearts. Good for him.

“And could you get another job after that?” Candy asked.

“No. Um…no. He trash-talked me to every other place I applied to.”

“So we were your last choice.”

Pup went tight as a bowstring, eyes flashing. “No. No, I wanted to be, but I–”

“You thought it’d be best to try and be legitimate first. A real member of society. Before you threw it all away on the one-percenter life.”

It seemed a trick of the headlights, the sudden brilliance of wetness in Pup’s eyes. But then the tears began to leak down his face in crystal tracks. “It wasn’t my last choice. It never was. I was afraid…shit, I was afraid you wouldn’t take me. That I couldn’t…”

“Be an outlaw?”

“Because look at me.” He sniffed hard. “Nobody ever wanted me. Not my folks. Not anyplace I ever worked.” He sent a pleading look toward Candy. “Please just tell me what I did. I swear, I’ll make it right. I will!”

Colin wanted to step forward and remove the shackles.

Candy pushed away from the truck and approached their captive. “Shhh. Hush, hush.” Like he was talking to a child. “Don’t get all upset. You didn’t do anything.” He closed the gap, just a step away from the prospect. “That I know about.”

Then the knife made an appearance. A quick flash of silver from Candy’s hip. A soft sound of it leaving a leather scabbard.

“Oh!” Pup gasped. “Shit! Candy! I swear, what did I do?! I didn’t mean to! I swear!” He burst into noisy tears. “Please.Please!”

Candy stepped in close enough to kiss the boy, and laid the knife against his windpipe.

Pup gasped, strained his head backward.

“Who do you work for?” Candy asked.

“W-what?”

“Who do you work for?” The knife glimmered as it tilted. If it hadn’t cut Pup yet, Colin didn’t know how. “That was a question, prospect. Who–”

“You!” Pup shouted. “I work for you!” He squeezed his eyes shut and sobbed, tears and snot pouring down his face. He swallowed and the knife jumped against his throat. Colin saw a bright pearl of crimson slide down the kid’s neck, and heard his swift, hitched breath as the blade cut into his flesh.

“Oh, God,” Pup said, shaking. “I work for you. Candy, I don’t understand!”

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