“You okay?”
“I’m fine. He was just rude. You’re lucky he backed down.”
Hunter snorted. “That kid, are you serious? I would have torn him a new one.”
“I realize that, but we’re trying to keep a low profile, not beat up kids with bad manners.”
Hunter conceded with a nod and then forked in his food as fast as he could without thinking about what it might be and how many foreign objects fell into it while it was prepared. Then he washed it all down with water that smelled like eggs. Hopefully, it was purified, but Hunter wished he had brought his iodine.
Ginger picked at her food, following every bite with a drink. She sputtered and started coughing.
“Are you choking?” Hunter asked, rising from his seat.
“At the door,” she managed to say.
Hunter tracked her gaze and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end when he recognized
Patrick stood at the hostess station, giving the little girl on the barstool a hard time. He was bigger than Hunter remembered, but that red hair set him apart like a brushfire. Patrick flipped his casino chip into the can and patted the girl on top of her rainbow cap.
Hunter turned back. He drained his water in two giant gulps.
“What do we do?” Ginger asked.
“Finish dinner. We’ll go outside and follow him when he comes out. Hopefully, he’ll lead us to Catherine.” Hunter wiped his mouth and stood up with his glass. “Can I get you some more water?”
Ginger looked at her empty glass and her plate that was still half-full. “Yes, please.”
Hunter filled their glasses. He didn’t want to go stalk the beast with his brother’s girlfriend. Patrick might recognize him or catch them following and then bad things might happen. Jimmy would never forgive him if bad things happened to Ginger, but Hunter couldn’t send her back to the hideout, either. Too many desperate eyes followed her in the daylight to let Ginger chance Denver alone in the dark.
He was about to return to the table when someone poked his back. Patrick loomed over him like a mountain.
“Hey, man, would you get me a glass of that water?”
Hunter stood for a second with his hands full. He lowered his gaze to the floor. The tops of Patrick’s boots were covered with dark red spots and he smelled like stale sweat. Hunter offered one of his full glasses to the kid that nearly killed his brother three months ago.
Patrick nodded back, oblivious. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” Hunter filled a new glass. His shaking hands spilt water onto the counter. His heart raced and he took a deep breath, struggling to keep himself under control.
“Don’t touch me!” Ginger screamed.
Hunter spun to see the skinny kid back at their table, his tongue sticking out, groping Ginger’s chest from behind. She waved her arms in an attempt to fight him off, but he pressed her into the table. He smiled at three other boys standing nearby and laughed.
Hunter exploded into a blind rage. He flew into the kid and pinned him to the ground. Unleashing his anger through his fists, each punch chased the next with meaty thuds.
Someone bumped against his back. He reached behind, grabbed an unknown arm and flung another boy on top of the first. He punched the new kid several times before standing up from the pile, panting. He spotted the other two and stepped in their direction. They retreated, unwilling to join the scrum and ran for the door.
“Behind you!” Ginger screamed.
Hunter whirled. The skinny kid, his face bloodied, sped toward him with a chair held high. Hunter brought his arms up in preparation for the blow. Instead, the boy slid across the table in front of Ginger, scattering the remains of her dinner and crashing to the floor on the other side. Patrick stood in his place.
Hunter clenched his fists. He wasn’t ready for this fight. Not alone.
Patrick’s smile totally disarmed Hunter’s ramped-up adrenaline. “Just a second,” Patrick said, holding up his index finger. The big kid stepped around the table. “Tommy the Perv. How’s puberty, Tommy? Looks like those urges got the best of you this time.”
“Hey, Patrick,” Tommy said, glancing around like he was trying to find a way out of a maze after eating the cheese. “Look, man, I didn’t know this dude was a friend of yours. Swears. I was just talking to his sister, know what I mean?”
“I know exactly what you mean. That’s why you’re the Perv.” Patrick’s face went grim. “You’ve been told to cut the shit. Now get out of my town.”
“But, Patrick.”
Patrick punched the kid so hard that even Hunter’s teeth rattled from the concussive force. The dinner crowd groaned in response to the violence. Tommy the Perv’s face ricocheted off Patrick’s knuckles, and his head bounced back and forth, bobbling like his spring broke.
Patrick pointed to Tommy’s lone friend still sitting on the ground where a smelly puddle gathered. “Help Tommy to the edge of town and make sure he keeps going or you’ll be following him. Got it?”
“I got it. I got it.” The kid took hold of Tommy and dragged him outside. The sound of Tommy’s crying carried through the walls.
All the kids in the cafeteria applauded. What they applauded, Hunter was unsure. All he knew was that he’d just drawn a truckload of attention.
Patrick shook hands with kids like a politician, and even slapped some high and low fives, and bumped a few knuckles. He waved the rest of the applause down and walked over to Hunter.
“Thanks,” Hunter said.
“Don’t mention it. Tommy’s had it coming for a while. She wasn’t the first.”
Ginger shrank in the aftermath.
“Are you all right?” Hunter asked her.
“Yes,” she said, straightening her sweater and tucking a strand of tawny hair behind her ear. Ginger folded her arms across her chest, looking up at him with watery eyes and a trembling bottom lip. “Can we go?”
“Yeah,” he said, offering her help up. She flinched away. He stepped back, aware of her comfort level regarding personal space.
Patrick frowned as they passed. “Hey, man, meet me here for breakfast tomorrow. I’ll get you some decent work to earn your chips. I’ll even throw in extra so she can take the day off.”
“Thanks,” Hunter said. “I’ll be here.”
Hunter followed Ginger out to the dark streets of Denver, wondering if this mission was a success. At least they found Patrick, but Hunter hated himself for not protecting Ginger. Jimmy would not be happy either.
THIRTY
Jimmy hated Denver. The city contained more resources than you could dig a shovel into, and yet the kids living there squandered everything. No one tried to make life better. He missed Independents.
The winter snowstorms were unusually harsh, so they waited them out in Independents before beginning their rescue mission. When they found Molly after that first snowstorm died down, they jailed her with Raven, but the two quickly rehabilitated in each other’s company. Catherine did something to Molly, healing her in some way that made everyone more than a little thankful; they didn’t have a single clue what to do with her before the dramatic change.
Raven healed on her own with time away from Chase’s influence, insisting he’s the devil. Jimmy guessed that would explain a lot if it didn’t sound crazy. Chase was evil; there was no doubting that.
After she left jail, Molly focused on psychology and therapy. Hunter found her all kinds of books on subjects like positive thinking, self-esteem and anger management. Jimmy didn’t understand most of it. Molly bugged him to talk about his fear of death. He told her he was dealing with the issue and suggested she work on Samuel’s need
