I swallow hard. “R-reflex?”
“You think I’d hurt you?” he asks. I finally get the courage to look at his face, and I see a world of pain there.
“No, Jake,” I protest. “I didn’t think you–”
But he’s already walking away. He’s walking toward the big house on the hill.
“Take the golf cart!” I yell to him.
But he doesn’t respond. And he doesn’t stop.
Adam and Dad walk onto the porch. “You should have told him already,” Dad says.
“I know,” I whisper.
“You could go tell him now,” Adam suggests.
I nod. “I could.” I can barely force the words past the frog in my throat.
Dad sighs. “You should probably go talk to him, Katie.”
I glare at both of them. “You guys could have given me some warning, you know. Instead of just showing up here.” I stomp up the steps.
“How?” Dad asks. “You didn’t bring your phone.”
I turn back and glare at them, crossing my arms over my chest. “Are you sure no one followed you here?”
“We were very careful.” Dad and Adam both nod like two dashboard dogs.
“I hope you were.”
God, I hope they were careful, because if they weren’t careful enough and he finds me, he’ll kill me.
27
Katie
I drive Jake’s golf cart back to the big house on the hill and park it in the driveway. I hear heavy rock-and-roll music blaring from the garage and I look in through the open door. Jake’s legs are sticking out from under his dad’s car. Loud knocks and bangs come from under the car.
“Jake,” I call out.
His shoes wiggle but he doesn’t c
ome out. I cross to the radio and turn it down a little. Jake’s shoes stop dancing. He rolls himself out from under the car, but he doesn’t sit up. “Why did you do that?” He glares at me.
I walk over to him. “We need to talk.”
“Great,” he mumbles as he rolls back under the car. “Now she wants to talk.” The banging resumes.
“Jake,” I say again.
He stops banging. “What?”
“Come out.”
The banging resumes. What the heck is he knocking on down there? I tap his knee.
“Jake!”