“He’s a good friend,” I reply. “So naturally I want to embarrass him.”
“Can you teach us how to make more of those?” Reese asks Shauna hopefully.
“No, absolutely not,” she says. “I’m surrounded by enough testosterone as it is. No more dicks in this house.”
That’s when my phone buzzes with a text from Burke. Apparently, it took him and Delia about three hours to get it out of their system.
Meet at Constance’s place? I’m bringing Delia.
Affirmative. We’ll head over now.
I tell the others that play time is over. Rafe doesn’t ask to join us, but he tells me to keep him updated on the plan. I understand that the kid is his concern now, too, and I appreciate it. The more friends Reese has in his corner, the better.
Half an hour later, Burke and Delia, Shauna, the kid, Constance, and me are all gathered in Constance’s house. Burke and Delia are on a loveseat, and Shauna, the kid, and Constance are gathered on the couch. The dog’s lying next to them, giving me a dirty look. I’m sitting in an armchair. We’re all drinking sweet tea and pretending to eat some raw cookies Constance made. They’re a worse flop than the homemade Kahlua, but I’m not about to tell her. Negative feedback only makes her double down. If I told her they taste like rotten fruit mixed with sawdust, she’d probably buy a raw food cookbook and make it her personality just to spite me. It’s one of the things I love about her.
Shauna too, which is why she surprised me by saying she doesn’t care about going to the wedding anymore.Ido. This is how it all started—howwestarted—and it seems important to see it through. I’ll talk her around if need be.
But there’s something I have to do first. Something that’s been itching at me ever since the kid showed up in my house. I’ve got to do it alone. And the information I need is about to be shared. Last night, I was too happy he’d returned to ask, but now…
“Who is he?” Burke asks for the second time, giving Reese a look that’s firm but also sympathetic. He’s good at that. “We have to know, Reese. Not because we’re going to send you back but because we need to be ready in case he tries anything.” He pauses, takes a bite of one of the raw cookies before I can shove it on the floor to save him, and then frowns before adding, “I have a private investigator on retainer, and he can look into your foster father. See if there’s anything we can bring to the authorities’ attention.”
“His brother’s a cop,” Reese says, his face pale. “And he’s a teacher. His wife says he’s not doing anything wrong. She thinks he just takes obedience seriously.”
“Does he hit the other kids?” I ask, my hands in fists. I can feel the nails cutting into my flesh, but it’s not enough. I need to sink my fist into that bastard’s face. I want him to feel what it is to be afraid.
Shauna’s giving me a look from the couch that says she knows it, so I flatten my hands and set them on my thighs. There, that’s what a calm person would look like.
“Sometimes.” Reese sighs and messes with the hem of his shirt. “But with me the most. He says it’s because my dad’s a bad man. He…he’s in prison for aggravated assault and robbery. Joel says he needs to beat it out of me so I’m not the same way.”
“Bullshit,” I say. My voice is louder than I meant it to be. I clear my throat and say, “That’s bullshit, kid. You’re in charge of who you are. Not your father. Not this Joel asshole.”
Shauna gives me a significant look, and I can practically hear her whispering in my ear,Listen to yourself, Leonard. You have surprisingly good advice sometimes.
I take in the rest of the room. Delia looks like someone just drop-kicked a puppy in front of her. Everyone else is good and pissed.
“I guarantee you that someone who pulls this kind of crap has done something else,” Burke says, pretty confident considering there’s only a few charges out on his parents despite them being certified shitty people. “He’ll find something else. He’s good.”
Reese looks off into the distance and sighs again. “His name’s Joel Edwards. He lives in West Asheville. A few streets down from Mrs. Ruiz.”
Constance putters off to the kitchen and returns with a notepad she probably swiped from somewhere and a promotional pen from a teashop. “Here,” she says, handing it over. “Write it down for them.”
Reese bites his lip, then looks from Burke to me. I nod at him, feeling the knot in my throat and that burning need to break my fists. “You can trust Burke. I’d trust him with my life.”
“Feels like that’s what I’m doing.”
But he writes down the address. I get up from my chair to grab a glass of water from the kitchen, and on my way back, I see the address, clear as day. I commit it to memory, because I’ll be paying old Joel a visit, come sunset.
I don’t have a car, so I have no idea how it’ll happen, but maybe I can take an uber to a location a couple of blocks away, and then…
I lower into my seat, my mind working.
Reese tears off the paper and hands it to Burke, who pockets it.
“Thank you. I’ll get him working on this. I’ve got a good feeling that we’ll be able to bring this guy down.”
But if they rely on the legal system, on the right way of doing things, it’ll take months. Maybe longer. How many kids is he going to hit before then? How many kids is he going to convince that they’re garbage?
I swallow, feeling a tightness in my gut.