Hold (Gentry Boys, #5)(68)

When the three of us walked into the lobby we found Conway sitting on a chair with his bandaged hand in his lap and his head lowered. Benji Carson was sitting beside him with a desperate look and I figured he’d probably been having rather an awkward time trying to comfort a seventeen-year-old kid who’d just lost his whole world. They both looked up with relief when they saw us.

I handed Carson his keys and he patted Con clumsily on the shoulder before taking his leave.

“Let me know,” he said, “if there’s anything I can do.” He looked genuinely forlorn, casting one more regretful glance in Con’s direction and then hopping back into his tow truck.

Creed sat down in a nearby chair, looked at Con, opened his mouth to say something, then closed it and looked at me. I understood. He figured I’d be better at this than he would.

“Hey, Con,” I said gently, sliding into the seat Carson had vacated a moment ago. “Sorry we had to take off for a little while.”

He nodded absently. “Mr. Carson told me you’d be back. Have you heard from my mom?” He sniffed and flexed the fingers of his broken hand. “I lost my phone somewhere. The nurse tried calling her but kept getting voicemail.”

Cord had limped over to take the chair beside Creed. The two of them looked grim and sad.

“Your mom was here,” I told Conway. I saw his eyebrows rise and the light of hope in his face that I hated to crush but had to. Don’t we always want our mothers when things are at their most awful? Even if they’ve never been true mothers and even if they don’t really want us.

But even before I said the words he knew what they were. As he stared at my face the hope fell out of his.

“So she meant it,” he said. “She meant it when she told us she was done.”

“Hopefully she’ll change her mind,” I told him although at this point even I had to admit it was probably better if she didn’t.

“I have nothing,” Conway said but it wasn’t a self-pitying kind of sniffle. He was staring at his knees and spoke with the air of grave realization.

Creed stood up. “Come on,” he said gruffly, and then walked over to Conway, holding out a hand. “Let’s go home.”

Con blinked. “I don’t-“

“You’re coming with us,” Creed said and started pulling him out of the chair. “And you’re staying there. School, life, all that shit we’ll all figure it out together.” He had about a five-inch height advantage over Conway and at least forty pounds of muscle. When he managed to drag Con to his feet, Creed placed a steadying hand on the boy’s shoulder and looked down on him with a fatherly expression. “Okay?”

The kid stared up into Creed’s face and slowly nodded. “Yeah.”

We were probably a rather sorry-looking squad heading outside, between Cord’s limp, Conway’s cast and our collective exhaustion. But I felt cheered as I climbed into the cab of Creed’s truck beside Conway. The day had been awful but it was done now. We were getting the hell out of here. We were going home.

Creed had enough compassion to avoid Main Street without me having to remind him. A fatal car wreck like that probably wouldn’t be completely cleared and swept away until tomorrow. Conway wasn’t looking out the window anyway. He was slumped into the leather seat, staring at the floor mats. I gave his arm a quick squeeze and listened to Cord quietly talking on the phone to Saylor as he explained they would be hosting a young guest for a little while. Conway appeared to be listening as well and it seemed he relaxed a little when he realized Cord’s wife wasn’t going to have a problem with bringing home a teenage boy the way some people brought home a stray puppy.

“Thank you,” he said when Cord ended the call. His voice shook. “I haven’t been real good at saying so yet but I’m really glad you guys are around.”

“You’re one of us,” Creed told him from the driver’s seat. “And we’ll be around as long as you need us and even long after that.”

I found myself getting a little choked up over Big C’s words because he’d never been good with them but damn if he couldn’t come up with just the right thing to say when it was needed.

We were passing the sprawling shape of the prison with its floodlights and its wires and its thousands of unseen lives existing somewhere within. The largest prison facility in the state, it was likely where Stone would end up unless some magic spell intervened. No point in bringing that up right now though.

Creed made a left turn and just like that we were out of the Emblem town limits. I didn’t look back as it faded at our backs.

“Creed,” I called.

“Yeah, junior?”

“Why don’t you switch on the radio to keep us awake?”

He pushed the button immediately. Creedence was partial to oldies and country so I figured one or the other would come blaring out. I recognized the opening notes of The Weight by The Band. I didn’t know the words by heart but it seemed to strike just the right mood and I closed my eyes, enjoying the sound. My brothers had always accused me of being able to sleep through a bomb blitz and I hoped I never had a reason to test that theory out. In any case, once I closed my eyes I couldn’t tell you what happened next until Creed’s irritable voice broke through.

“Quit snoring and get out of my truck.”