Wrong Way Home - Taken (Criminal Delights 1)

And if Taron did go to prison for the abduction and murder, would Colin be allowed to take care of his animals, or would the state take them away? He glanced at Taron when they stopped at a gas station by the road. Blue neon light illuminated Taron’s beard, even slipping through his longish hair to create strange patterns. Everything about the plastic flashing sign with the gas prices felt too crisp, too real. The world in which Colin had lived in for so long was now alien, and he could only hope that the feeling would pass at some point.

Colin glanced toward the store and colorful candy he knew would feel too sweet on his tongue after eating a wholesome diet of organic vegetables and meat sourced from their own little farm. His hand darted to Taron’s forearm and squeezed it. “I won’t tell anyone.”

Taron gave him a long, indecipherable look before leaving the pickup. If he was such a monster, why did Colin care what Taron thought? The guy was evil. He’d murdered. He’d locked Colin in a cage. He didn’t need or want to hear Colin’s thoughts.

Colin bit his lips so hard they went numb, and wouldn’t let Taron out of his sight as his captor filled the tank and then made his way into the shop. And as if Colin were Taron’s guardian angel, a commotion started the moment he briefly averted his gaze. Yelling he couldn’t work out reached his ears, but Taron was already leaving the small building with Tom McGraw on his tail.

Colin sank lower in the seat, in case McGraw, who held a grudge the size of the Grand Canyon, recognized him and turned Taron over to the authorities. The two men moved between parked vehicles, Taron leading the way with an expressionless face and McGraw hissing at him like a vicious animal. A woman fueling her car followed them both with a shake of her head, but other than that there was no one else to witness the exchange.

Colin evened out his breathing, hand resting on the handle, in case he needed to intervene and support Taron, but the driver’s door opened and Taron stepped inside. He sat behind the wheel and drove off with his wheels squeaking against asphalt. McGraw threw a half-empty can of soda at the pickup, but other than some of the drink landing on the back windshield, that was that.

They headed for the highway Colin had avoided all those months ago.

The cul-de-sac where his parents lived felt like a place from another planet. The greenery here was only of the kind that had been carefully chosen, and the picture-perfect facades of homes, each with a double garage and red mailbox at the front, felt strangely uninviting. Taron didn’t want to park right on front of the house, so he stopped nearby, behind a large bush that obscured the car on Colin’s side. It was already dark, and in the nearest window, Mrs. Mitarashi was serving dinner to her family. It wasn’t a common occurrence in Colin’s home, because both his parents worked at the hospital, and synchronizing meals was nearly impossible.

Not that he minded. More often than not, he’d preferred to eat on his own, in his room, where no one would bother him or criticise the fact that he was watching a TV show while chewing through dinner.

He’d never missed TV when eating with Taron.

Taron turned to him with a low exhale.

Colin’s throat closed, and he stared back into Taron’s eyes, which in the low light looked like two wells leading straight to the centre of the world. “What are you talking about? I won’t go to the cops!”

Colin wanted to protest, but the familiar shape of a woman walking past the car across the empty road made him stall. His mother was in her favorite jeans and a white T-shirt, the wavy hair with a texture just like his, pinned at the back of her head. His heart skipped a beat when he noticed a fluffy dog following her on a lead.

The sight of the creature had him lean back while the cogs in his brain jarred, struggling to adjust to all the new parts that had just been added to the mechanism. It was as if years had passed, not months since he’d been gone, and he felt more upset that she’d gotten a goddamn dog than that she hadn’t noticed him yet. But then again, he was the one still sitting in the truck instead of running toward her. What was wrong with him?

“I didn’t know they got a dog,” he whispered. “What is that? A Pomeranian?”