Page 137 of Losers, Part I

“You be careful, boy,” he said softly. “It’s a big dangerous world. Death walks real close. Ain’t we all just one poor decision from dead and buried?”

I looked him up and down slowly. “Death walks closer to somethan others.”

“You’re right there. Walks close to some…runs to catch up with others. But it always comes around, one way or another.” He took a step back, and I flinched as he reached into his jacket. He didn’t miss it. It made him smile.

He took out a cigarette, lit it, and let the smoke waft over my face. Camel Crushes. I fucking hated the scent of menthol. He paused, narrowing his eyes for a moment over my shoulder before he finally said, “Vincent. That was your name. The boy from that big family. Four beautiful sisters...” He let the comment hang. “I’ll see y’all around.”

He took his sweet time strolling down the road. I waited, watching until he’d climbed into that familiar old truck and flipped a U-turn in the dirt, dust clouding up from his tires.

But the rage still sat inside me, shuddering like a beaten dog.

50

Jessica

Lucas’s tension was obvious as he led me up the stairs. He was practically crushing my hand in his from holding onto me so tight, and he didn’t let go until we entered his room. Only then did he drop my hand and immediately went to the window, his eyebrows drawn together as he looked out into the yard.

But the gate wasn’t visible from that vantage point.

He hissed in frustration, his arms folded and his fists clenched. “Shit.”

“Shouldn’t you go out there?” I said. My palms were sweating, nervous energy making me pace. I’d never seen any of them look like that, as if they were genuinely frightened when they saw Reagan at the gate.

“Jason and Vincent have his back,” Lucas said. He didn’t sound particularly happy about it though. “If Manson wants me to keep you safe, then I’m fucking keeping you safe. So just relax.”

He sat on the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his legs as he bowed his head. He looked far from relaxed himself; he looked more like a grenade whose pin was slowly being pulled loose.

“How dangerous is he?” My gut twisted as I recalled Vincent telling me that Reagan was the reason he had a gun. What the hell could have happened to make them so afraid of him? Iunderstood why Manson was — I could only imagine the trauma of having a parent like that. But they wereallfreaked out and it was worrying me even more.

“Don’t underestimate him.” Lucas got off the bed again, pacing in front of it like he couldn’t figure out how to settle himself. “The last time Manson saw him, Reagan threatened to kill him.”

The knot inside me grew hard as a rock. “We need to call the police. This isn’t safe.”

“Police won’t do shit, Jess.”

He paced to the window again, scoffed, and paced back. He looked around the room helplessly, his frustration palpable in the air.

“Somewhere in that police station downtown is a file for the Reed family about three inches thick,” he said. “Domestic disturbances, DUIs, public intoxication, domestic battery. No good came of it. Fucking nothing. His mom wouldn’t press charges. Reagan would sit in jail for a night and come right back in the morning. Cops around here see the last nameReed, and they think trash. Criminals.” He sighed heavily, rubbing his hand over his buzzed hair. “A kid like Manson isn’t supposed to make it this far, Jess. He should be dead, or hooked on drugs, or already in prison. The police have had him on their radar ever since he brought the knife to school. Vincent has a record.Ihave a record. If the people the cops are supposed to help are already behind bars in their mind, then they don’t care.”

Criminals. Just like my mom had called them. But it was wrong, it was so wrong. Their entire lives were written off because of what they’d done to survive, because of circumstances beyond their control.

“That’s not fair.” I was so frustrated that my throat swelled, but I choked down the lump. This wasn’t the time to cry, not now, not in front of Lucas. They were all worried enough. “That’s so wrong, they shouldn’t…fuck.” I was so useless just standingthere, not knowing what was going on. I wanted to help, but what could I possibly do?

“Life isn’t, and never has been, fair,” Lucas said. His voice was gentler than I expected, like he was imparting a valuable life lesson that he wished he didn’t have to give. He stood in front of me, looking at me for a moment as if he couldn’t figure out what he was supposed to do.

Then he wrapped his arms around me. Slowly and stiffly at first, as if he was hugging something prickly. But when I burrowed my face against him and wrapped my arms around him in return, he softened. It was like his chest caved in and he tried to draw me into it, clinging to me as if I would slip away.

“You chose some fucked up guys to play with, Jess,” he said. His chin rested on top of my head, and I could hear his heart pounding so hard and fast it was a wonder he could stand still at all. “I’m sorry to say this shit comes with the territory. But you’re safe with us, I swear that much.”

“I’m not worried about myself,” I said, not raising my head from his chest. “I’m worried about you. About Manson, and Jason, and Vincent. I want you to be safe too.”

He exhaled softly — a half-hearted laugh. “I don’t think we’re going to find safety in Wickeston. But someday…someday we will. Somewhere else.”

Without me. The thought sprang to my mind so hard and fast that it shocked me, the lump squeezing into my throat again. But I didn’t want to think about that, not now. The more I thought about the future, the worse it would be. I needed to focus on the here and now.

And here, now, we had a bigger problem to deal with.

“Try not to worry.” Lucas finally eased his hold, giving my arms a squeeze as he did. “Manson can handle himself.”

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