Page 86 of In Hiding

Jake watched the boy steer the wheelbarrow laden with chopped wood along the drive. So far, he’d resisted every attempt Jake made to coax the truth out of him, steadfastly protecting whatever—or whoever—he’d left school to see. His stubborn refusal ranked right up there with Sarah’s ability to stand her ground. On one hand, Jake was impressed. On the other, he hated losing to a sixteen-year-old.

With a shake of his head, he went back to his painting. Snow hadn’t fallen in days and he’d used the break in the worst of the winter weather to make some necessary touch-ups to the exterior of the house.

Removing flaking paint and rotten weatherboards, he’d spent most of his time working on the southern side of the house. It bore the brunt of the strong cold fronts and storms as they raced up the southeast coast of Australia from Antarctica.

At first, he’d thought it would only take a few days to restore the entire exterior. So far, he’d done half of one wall. Greatly overestimating his productivity had never been an issue before.

Jake grinned at the thought of how long the job would take. If it kept him here at least until the spring, he’d have more time with Sarah. Unless Mitchell crashed their party.

Not unless.

Until.

His smile fell.

The phone call telling them Mitchell was officially out of prison came through yesterday afternoon. He’d watched, helpless, as Sarah’s mood darkened and she withdrew into a shell. Will, too, had changed upon hearing the news. The normally moody teen had become entirely uncooperative and angry. Jake had thought he was a tough nut to crack before the news.

The tension in the house had grown so thick he could cut it with a knife, and though it was afternoon, he hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Sarah at all today. It had him worried.

He finished the last of his painting and climbed off the ladder. On his way back toward the woodshed, Will wheeled the cart toward him. His eyes darted left and right, as if trying to avoid making eye contact but when the kid got close enough, Jake stepped in front of the barrow. Slow to react, Will crashed into him, the steel tub of the barrow smashing against Jake’s shins.

Fuck.

“Why’d you do that?” Will dropped the barrow.

“Got your attention, didn’t I?”

Will shook his head, looking none too pleased. “Don’t blame me if you end up bloody and bruised.”

Jake nodded and set down the paint brush and can of paint. “Fair enough. Have you spoken to your mum today?”

The picture of the angry teen morphed into one of worry and desperation. “No.”

“She’s scared.”

“She has every right to be.”

Jake remembered her specifically pleading with him to help her fight and silently wondered where that Sarah had gone. “As do you.”

The boy’s brown eyes narrowed. “I’m not scared.”

Trying to be non-confrontational, Jake shrugged. “It’s okay if you are.”

“Well, I’m not.”

The determination in his voice sounded forced. Jake conceded that pushing the point wouldn’t win him any favors, and it certainly wasn’t going to convince Will to tell him why he’d skipped school.

“Listen, Will, I need to go into town for a bit. Would you keep an eye on your mum for me?”

Concern clouded the young man’s eyes. “You’re leaving us?”

“I have an errand to run.”

“It must be urgent.”

Jake blinked at the fear in Will’s voice. He could claim he wasn’t scared until he was blue in the face. Jake knew better. But the kid was right, this couldn’t wait. He needed to see Erik.

Now.

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