The Runaways

Chapter 11

He shut himself up a few seconds too late. I couldn’t tell if he was running his mouth like he always did or spilling bits and pieces of the truth. Either way, he was asking for a fight.

        “What’s he talking about, Marcus?”

        “Nothing that concerns you.”

       “All of this concerns me. I got you Anderson’s kid. I’m the guy the cops are coming for. So don’t give me any shit about what concerns me and what doesn’t,” I said.

My pulse beat against the skin of my eyelids, and I bunched my fists just to keep from beating his face in.  Marcus didn’t say anything for a while. Not a damn word, just stood there, looking down from the hard ridge of his nose, making the couple inches he had on me feel like miles.

       "We’re all upset about Rusty, Caleb, but you're better off swallowing the hurt and realizing what kind of situation you put us in when you brought him here. "

        "Blame me until you believe it, Marcus, but the cuffs were your call.”

Marcus stood up from his chair and b-lined for me first chance he got. I pulled one of my hands loose and got a couple hard right hooks in, but he wrestled Rusty out of my grip. He shoved me out of the way, and I backed off, trying to swallow the sting of being put in my place.

I lost that fight for Russ more than anyone else.

Cillian and Marcus dragged Rusty into the cold store despite me. I heard Hailey sobbing from where I was and tuned her out. I couldn’t deal with her right now. I couldn’t deal with any of this. There was blood all over the floor, all over my hands, all over me.

That’s when I felt it—the start of another blackout.

I glanced over to the back door. It was so close—close enough to hear the cicadas hissing up storms in the grass outside. Three steps and I could be outta here. Maybe I’d walk fifteen miles into town, turn myself in, and let the legal system screw with me for a while. Or maybe I’d run around the fields ‘til I got lost enough to forget my way home.

I blinked once and was out the door. Twice. Running. The third time, I tripped over my shoelaces.

I hit the dirt and sucked in a mouthful of dust before pulling myself up. Thirty-seconds out into the fields and I’d already landed flat on my face. God wanted me to stay right where I was. Dust to dust, I guess.

I looked down to see a hand hanging on to the bottom of my jeans. It moved. I nearly stopped breathing.

The fingers gripped around my ankle and pulled hard enough to tear my foot clean off. I kicked my leg out, tried to shake it off, and screamed louder than a fourteen-year old girl when it grabbed me tighter.

        “Shut up, Caleb! Keep up that hollering, and you’ll have the army out for us!”

Liam looked up at me from the ground, his hand still clamped around my ankle. His eyes gleamed in the dark like he’d been crying.

I’d only seen him cry once in my life. I didn’t like thinking about that day. I didn’t know how I’d managed to find him after he’d been gone for as long as he had, but now that we were face to face again, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to find him still breathing when Rusty wasn’t.

The good people go first. They die sooner than the rest of us ‘cause Heaven can’t wait to have them back. Nothing was waiting for my brothers and me. We were the cockroaches. We’d be the lonely ones.

I didn’t say anything for a long while, just stared at Liam ‘til my eyes stung. He was in bad shape, the hard lines and worry crawling all over his face gave away his injuries.