Jackson Stiles, Road to Redemption (Road to Redemption #1)(94)

I lean up against the Chevelle and try to calm my thoughts. Because like it or not, time is ticking the f*ck away while I stand here explaining shit to my brother, who’s probably about to tell me something along the lines of, sorry about your luck.

“What if you can’t do it, Jackson?”

“What?”

“What if you can’t keep him safe? Then what?”

“That’s not a f*cking option, Nick.”

He nods.

He f*cking gets it.

But then, something happens I wasn’t exactly expecting.

He hits the remote lock on his keychain, and I hear the beep beep of his car somewhere out in the darkness. The bright screen of his phone highlights his face. He sends a quick text of his own and waits at the passenger’s side door of my car.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

He grins over at me.

“Let’s go get the kid.”





ARE WE HAVING FUN YET?





RURAL FUCKING REDEMPTION.

The last time I was out this far toward the coast was four or five years ago with Nick and the boys. It scarred me for life. Three hours at a pumpkin patch with toddlers will do wonders for your sense of belief in crowd control, AKA birth control.

Listen, don’t get me wrong. I like the little shits and all. I mean they are my nephews, but if I’m being honest, bringing a kid into this f*cked-up wormhole wouldn’t exactly be my greatest accomplishment. It would be the opposite of great, actually. It would be f*cking idiotic.

I don’t know how Nick and Mia deal, but I have my suspicions.

Liquor.

Lots and lots of liquor.

Moving on.

According to Yahoo maps, the address Flint sent me lays somewhere along Redemption’s farmland sector. Some places out here are still running well but others, near the outer perimeter of the city, have been abandoned for eons. So really, why am I surprised this is where Stix might be? It makes perfect sense. I can only hope I get to the kid while he’s still alive and not in time for him to be the center character of the world’s next greatest horror flick.

Nick’s unsubtle throat clearing drags my focus away from planning.

“Where’d this piece of information come from again?”

I should have known that question was coming.

No stones unturned and shit.

“The number came up as unknown.” I hesitate before verbalizing the rest of the answer. “I’m pretty sure it was Thomas, though.”

Wait for it.

Nick chokes. “Thomas?”

I’m not saying a damn word.

“Thomas, as in Thomas Flint?” He wants clarification but come on. We don’t know any other Thomases that might have this kind of intel.

“The same Thomas who sold guns in high school and was rumored to have killed several of our classmates, one of which was supposed to be you. That Thomas?”

See? He knows who the f*ck I’m talking about.

He didn’t actually have me on a list, by the way.

Turns out, I was more fitting that I get a fist to my face.

What can I say? I make an impression on people.

It was undeserved, by the way.

Mostly.

“That was a rumor. We’re cool now,” I assure my brother flippantly. Now I know Thomas didn’t exactly say that, but let’s not get into semantics here. He did let me walk away without an extra hole in my head. That has to account for something.

“Exactly when did this happy reunion take place?” Nick’s expression goes from slightly curious to I’m having a hard time comprehending what you’re even saying in about two seconds flat.

I hunch my shoulders. “You know, recently.”

“You’ve been to see the guy.” He’s not asking, which is a good thing. I’d hate to have to lie to his face.

“Maybe.”

What?

Nick breathes out slow and easy. With a slight shake of his head, he turns his face to view the scenery outside.

“You really have got a death wish, don’t you?” His voice is rough. Cracked. The kind of tone that makes your chest cringe with guilt. Now I kinda wish I had lied.

“Why do say that?”

“You know that guy’s crazy, Jackie.” He looks over at me. “And not in the oh, that’s just Thomas, kind of way. He’s criminally insane. Why would you go down there?”

I’ll admit I hadn’t really thought it through at the time. But, since when do I think shit through when it comes to finding out what the f*ck is going on?

“It was important.”

He lets out a sarcastic huff and nods his head while he mumbles. “Important.”

A red light allows me to check my messages. There’s nothing from Green. So I shoot off yet another text to her.

Tell me you’re safe.

Then I get back to the conversation at hand.

“Yeah.”

“Seriously, Jackson.” Nick puts his worry face on for me, and I can’t stand it anymore.

“I went down there for the kid.”

“The brother of the guy you picked up─”

“And consequently sent to his untimely death, yes. That kid.”

Why hasn’t Green texted back yet?

The slump of Nick’s body catches my attention. His brow squeezes together like he’s attempting to put some pieces of a puzzle together telepathically.