In a way, it had been very unselfish on his part to let her go before he hurt her again, he told himself. So why did he still feel like such a slug? Like someone who belonged in the shadows, hidden away from the sunlight?
Why did it still hurt so badly to think of her walking away from him?
A sound behind him made him tense. Sitting absolutely still, he listened as the voices grew closer. He recognized one as Brad Henderson’s.
“I’m not sure about this, Jimbo. I think maybe we’d better—”
“Come on, Brad, you’re not chickening out, are you? Not now.”
“It’s just—well, what if we get caught? What if Tommy’s mom finds out we snuck out?”
“We won’t get caught. Trust me. Me and Tommy know what we’re doing. His mom sleeps like the dead when she takes one of her pills, and Tommy watched her take one tonight. And we’ve got Gil on our side.”
“I don’t know—”
Another boy spoke this time, his voice gruff with impatience. “C’mon, Brad, you hate this guy. You said he deserved this.”
“It’s going to be a piece of cake, Brad.” Jimbo, again. “We use these bolt cutters to cut the locks on the storage building, help ourselves to the best tools, and then we’ll have a little fun in the house. Gil said that fancy glass is leaded. Original. Real hard to replace. That’ll show Cordero what happens when he pushes us around.”
“I don’t have a problem with breaking his windows,” Brad muttered. “He deserves that for being such a jerk. But the stealing…I didn’t know you guys were involved with that.”
“Don’t get preachy on us, Brad,” Jimbo warned. “We haven’t taken anything from anybody who didn’t have insurance to cover it. And you sure have liked it that we’ve had extra money to spend on food and arcade games and movies and stuff. You didn’t worry about where the money came from when we were spending it, did you?”
“Well, maybe—but the Porter place, guys. I didn’t know it was you driving that van. My sister could’ve been killed.”
“I told you—I didn’t mean for that to happen. I panicked, okay? I’d never driven a van like that before. But she’s okay now. And you’re making up for it tonight. You said this bastard made her cry. Here’s your chance to make him pay.”
Mac felt like the bastard they had called him—the bastard he was—when he thought of Sharon crying over him. She hadn’t deserved that. She didn’t deserve this, either. His anger with her brother grew.
“I don’t know,” Brad said again, and there was temptation as well as fear in his voice.
“I’m tired of this,” the third boy announced flatly. “Let’s do it, guys. Brad, are you with us or not?”
“He’s with us. Ain’t you, Brad?”
“Yeah. I—I guess so. Just give me a minute, okay? You guys go on and I’ll meet up with you.”
“He’s backing out,” the other boy announced scornfully.
“No, I’m not. Really. I just—I just need to pee, okay? I’ll be there in a minute.”
“You better. Come on, Jimbo. Let’s do it.”
“Right with you, man. Don’t let us down, Brad.”
Mac listened while the other boys moved toward the house. Brad stayed where he was, cursing frantically beneath his breath, obviously torn between joining his friends and making a run for it. Feeling as if fate had stepped in to give him a break, Mac decided it was time for him to assist the boy in his decision making.
Brad never had a warning. Mac had an arm around him and a hand over his mouth before the kid knew he wasn’t alone. It wasn’t hard for Mac to overpower the skinny, panic-stricken teenager. “Be still before you get hurt,” he said quietly into Brad’s ear. “You know who I am, don’t you?”
Brad nodded stiffly.
“Your friends are walking straight into Chief Davenport’s arms. He’s waiting for them behind my storage building. He’ll probably let them cut the lock before he moves in, just to make sure of what they’re up to. And then he’ll put them behind locks they won’t be able to cut.”
Brad groaned.
“I’m giving you a break, kid. Not because I think you deserve it. To be honest, I think it would do you a world of good to spend some time
in juvenile detention. But you see, I know that would devastate your sister. And unlike you, that matters very much to me.”