Beneath the Scars (Masters of the Shadowlands #13)(114)

Carson read the message aloud. “Cars, cuz yer my friend, your father is gonna pay for being an asshole and treating you like shit.”

“What?” Yukio said.

Carson read it again as fear grew in his belly. “Today’s Thursday. Brandon’d said Everett and everybody would be at Disney World tonight.”

“And he wanted to start a fire.” Yukio scowled. “I thought you told him no. Did you change your—”

“No, I didn’t change my mind. He’s not even talking to me!” Carson’s heart thumped inside his chest like he’d run a dozen laps. His thumbs felt fat and awkward as he texted back. “Leave my father alone.”

Yukio beside him, he waited. A minute, then two ticked by.

He tried to make a regular phone call. Waited.

Yukio spoke first. “He’s not answering. You suppose he really went to your dad’s place?”

“Oh shit-buckets, what am I gonna do?”

“Call your mom?”

Carson shook his head. “What if Brandon’s bullshitting, trying to piss me off or something?”

“Yeah, he does that a lot. But what if he’s not?”

The other soccer players had left, and the field was quiet. The sports lights flickered and came on.

It was getting dark.

Carson swallowed. “I need to go check. Make sure.” His voice came out thick. He’d told Brandon no. Told him. It’d take an hour to get to asshole Everett’s house, and Mom expected him back when it got dark and that was like now. “Can you call, too? Keep calling? Tell him not to do anything? I mean…”

“Sure.”

“I…I’ll call the cops if I have to.” The thought made Carson want to puke, but he hauled in a breath. He would.

Yukio grimaced. “Yeah, I hear you. Can you call me…whenever? Let me know if it’s all okay?”

Nothing was going to be okay. He’d have to ride his bike in the dark past that street where he’d gotten attacked. What if those men were there? A shiver of fear went through Carson.

“Okay.” After shoving his phone into his shorts pocket, he yanked his backpack on. “Thanks, Kio.”


An hour later, Carson made it to his father’s fancy house.

Near the place where he’d been attacked, the streets were filled with bumper-to-bumper cars. An accident had happened, and nothing was moving. Even the ambulances and fire trucks were stuck. Jeez. He’d only gotten through cuz he could take to the sidewalks.

Shaking inside, Carson steered into the driveway. He dropped his bike on the front lawn and spotted two others. Ryan’s gold-striped bike lay in the shadows. Shit-buckets. This was crazy. After getting butt-hurt and ignoring Carson all week, why was Brandon acting like they were bros again? Saying he was gonna burn Everett’s house for Carson?

Carson scowled.

Brandon’s bike had a cloth cargo trailer hitched behind it. Carson walked over and pulled the covering off. The smell of gasoline wafted up.

The trailer was filled with red gas containers, glass bottles, and lots of other stuff. Carson’s mouth dropped open, and he jerked back. Brandon was going to do more than toss one bottle into a room.

Carson shuddered, looking around desperately. Was anyone home he could tell? The sun was long gone, and most of the yard was dark. Only one dim light showed upstairs. The outside front door and garage lights were on, like people did when they left. Brandon had been right about Everett being gone.

Spotting movement at the corner of the house, Carson lifted his hand and hissed.

Brandon jogged over with Ryan trailing behind.

“I knew you’d show,” Brandon whispered. His grin was big and happy and excited. He did a fancy victory shuffle. “This is gonna be epic.”

Burning down a house was epic? “No.” Carson got up in his face, so mad he felt like his eyes would cross. “I told you no. Leave my father alone!”

“Oh, come on, Cars. It’ll be fun,” Ryan whined.

Brandon scowled. “You said you hated him. Now you’re all loving to your asshole daddy?”

“I’m not. But setting a fire’s wrong. Illegal.”

“What a pussy. I thought you had a pair, but guess not. Wish I could burn my fucking father’s place around his ears.” Brandon unhitched the bike trailer and pulled it toward the house. “C’mon, Ryan.”

Ryan hesitated.

Carson hauled in a breath. Shit-buckets. They weren’t listening. His heart hammered crazy in his chest as he watched Brandon just…keep walking away. Toward the house.

Carson’s hands clenched. He had to do something.

Putting his head down, he charged, tackling Brandon from the side. It was like hitting a wall—a mushy wall, but still.

Whipping around, Brandon punched him. Hard.

Carson landed on the ground, his shoulder hitting first. Owwww. Lying in the cold grass, he held his throbbing cheek. “You—”

“Stupid fucktard!” Brandon kicked him in the gut.

Pain roared through Carson as he grabbed his stomach, trying to breathe. Tears burned his eyes, making everything blurry. “Don’t do it. Leave my fa—”

“I’m going to light this fucking place up.” Brandon’s lips pulled back so far his teeth showed like a dog’s. “I’m gonna watch it burn.”