2. The Favor
The Favor
JON
“He was going to what now?”
I was an atheist, but here I was, praying I’d heard Jack wrong. My best friend just told me his little brother had been planning a little road trip.
By himself.
“Are you insane?” I fixed Jack with a glare. “No one attracts trouble like Cooper. He’d follow a serial killer into a dark alleyway out of curiosity.”
“I know,” Jack said, grimacing. “But technically, he’s an adult.”
That was true. Technically.
“Anyway, Mom’s going to tell him today he can’t go by himself after all. He’s going to be so pissed,” Jack continued. “It’s a bummer that I can’t drop my internship, because it would’ve been nice to see Grandpa.” Jack offered me that easy-going smile he used when he wanted to be extra charming.
Well, I wasn’t charmed. I was livid. I already knew where this conversation was heading and how it was going to end.
“So, Mom and I were wondering if you could go? I know it’s not ideal, and I’m sorry for the short notice . . . but you’re your own boss, right?”
Yes, I was. I was a self-taught game designer, but that wouldn’t help in the middle of a Nebraska cornfield when Cooper decided to stab me to death.
I rubbed the back of my neck. My best friend had no idea what he was asking.
He thought he was asking for a favor—keeping his little brother safe during a road trip from Illinois to California.
What he was actually asking was for me to spend a week trapped in a car with the only person who had ever made me lose control.
“I’m sure Grandpa will give you a fee too,” Jack added, his tone turning hopeful. “I mean, he’s giving Cooper a thousand dollars, but we both know he won’t share. At least not without a fight.”
“I’m not taking a cent of his money,” I snapped.
“The start-up going that well?” Jack asked, looking genuinely impressed. “That’s awesome!”
I shrugged. Maybe it was awesome, but it was also irrelevant. Even if I was down to my last dollar, I wouldn’t take a dime from Cooper.
“If you can’t make it, I could maybe ask around and see if someone will volunteer,” Jack mused, and my fists clenched. No fucking way would I let some idiot with a hero complex go anywhere near Cooper.
My friend tilted his head, waiting. He was leaning against the counter in my kitchen, radiating that specific brand of Taylor family confidence and functional family bullshit.
I’d known Jack for five years. We met through online gaming before realizing we lived in the same city.
He was the brother I’d chosen, and I was happy I had him in my corner.
When I used my first paycheck from a crappy construction job to buy a secondhand computer, he let me store it in his room so I wouldn’t have to worry about addicts stealing my gear the second I stepped out of the trailer.
Jack had also helped me move into this place.
It wasn’t much—one bedroom, a small kitchen, an annoyingly tiny bathroom—but I’d gotten out of the trailer park with money I’d earned.
Cooper hadn’t seen my apartment—and why the fuck was I even thinking about that?
It was alarming how easily I could picture the little brat here, hopping onto my counter like a cat, stealing my coffee, demanding attention as if it belonged to him.
Well, that was never going to happen, and if I missed hearing his chaotic cackle, that just served me right.
Jack was still waiting for my reply. If he knew what had happened between his little brother and me, he wouldn’t be asking. He’d punch me in the mouth. I almost wished he would. That kind of pain I was well used to.
“Are you sure you can’t take time off?” I asked.
Jack smiled sheepishly. “I’m sure. Anyway, there aren’t many people who can handle Cooper, but you’ve always managed.”
I flinched. Because yeah, I’d handled Cooper. That was the whole fucking problem. It was the reason he’d spent the last year pretending I didn’t exist anymore. There’d been no provoking. No smirks, pranks, nothing.
And fuck if it didn’t hurt. Like I lost a limb I didn’t even know I’d had. And fuck if I’d ever admit that to anyone.
“I know he can be a brat,” Jack said, and an irrational spike of anger surged through me. He wasn’t wrong, but still. “But this trip is everything to him. He’ll be on his best behavior, I swear. Did you know he’s saving for a car?”
Just kill me now.
“What if I say no?” I asked, though the fight was already leaving me. After all, it was Cooper we were talking about. The second Jack told me about the trip, I’d lost.
My friend shrugged.
“If you say no, Mom will make Cooper cancel the whole trip. It sucks, but I can’t blame her. Things have escalated fast. It’s wild out there with all those brainless fanatics. Did you hear about the latest attack?”
I nodded, my expression grim. Cooper hadn’t shown any signs of presenting, but he looked like .
. . well, he had Omega written all over him.
In addition to looking like trouble wrapped up in pretty, he was so damn reckless it drove me mad.
We hadn’t talked in months, but I was still keeping an eye on him.
Just because he hated me now didn’t mean I was going to stop watching.
Guys like him got noticed. Creeps noticed. Predators noticed. Men who mistook pretty for easy and a bright smile for an invitation.
I knew how to protect Cooper from people like that.
What I didn’t know was how to protect him from me. I’d shown him my true colors, and he’d run.
“I guess he’ll just have to deal with the disappointment,” Jack continued, giving me a sly look. The bastard. If the choice was between letting Cooper’s dreams get crushed or being the sole target of his fury . . . I’d take the fury. Every time. Because it was Cooper.
The one person I’d walk through fire for.
“Fine,” I said, already regretting it.
Jack’s shoulders loosened. He was clearly oblivious to my inner turmoil.
“Thanks, man. I knew we could count on you.”
“I’ll do it,” I added, my jaw tight. “But I’m not the one telling him.” I might be a masochist when it came to that brat, but I wasn’t suicidal.
* * *
JON, age 18, four years before the trip
I should’ve known Dan and the other group home kids would hang around the old warehouse.
I’d spent enough afternoons there, killing time with cheap thrills.
Logan had fallen from that fire escape once and broken his ankle.
Dan had spray painted his name on every possible wall.
I never bothered, but I understood why the idea appealed to him—the world would easily forget the likes of us if we didn’t remind it of our existence.
They had cornered some kid reckless enough to walk past the abandoned building alone.
At first, I just watched, figuring out what the hell I was stepping into.
The kid was running his mouth like he had a death wish.
A pair of headphones hung around his slender neck, and blond curls sat on his head in stubborn chaos.
When Dan reached out to touch him, he snarled.
“What the fuck is going on?”
Every head turned. Dan’s smug expression was quickly replaced by a more apprehensive one, but he didn’t immediately step back. He’d gotten bolder since we’d stopped living under the same roof.
“Relax, Jon.”
I didn’t relax. I studied the kid. He looked younger than he probably was. Smaller too. But even backed against a wall, he looked like he’d rather die than give these assholes the satisfaction of seeing him fold.
“You’re harassing a kid.”
The others moved farther away, giving me space to handle Dan.
“I’m fifteen,” the kid said, making a face. I threw him a look that usually made kids his size shut the fuck up, but not this one. Lips parting, he sized me up—and yep, he was foolish enough to like what he saw.
He called Dan a jerk before trying to leave, and when Dan grabbed his wrist, I could see the surprised flash of pain on his face.
I stepped forward and punched Dan. He staggered back, swearing, his hands flying to his nose.
I was sick of his shit. Maybe this would make him think twice before juvie did.
I’d been in juvie, and it wasn’t anything to write home about.
“Leave.”
They scrambled, dragging Dan with them. Then I turned to the kid. He was still pressed against the wall, but he looked alarmingly thrilled.
“You hurt?” I asked.
“I—no.” His voice wobbled for a fraction of a second before he caught it. He lifted his chin. “I’m fine.”
His eyes were ridiculously blue—and I needed to get my shit together, fast, and stop noticing some random kid’s eye color.
I lit a cigarette and started walking, my heart hammering for no fucking reason. After a few steps, I slowed. “Come on. You were heading this way, right? I am too.”
“I don’t need a babysitter,” he snapped, but I could hear the scuff of his sneakers. He was already hurrying after me.
“So, what was that?” he asked, sounding almost exhilarated. “You just go around punching people?”
“The ones who harass kids, yeah.”
“I’m not a kid. I told you, I’m fifteen.”
“Which makes you a kid.”
He shot me an offended look. “I can handle myself. I had the situation under control.”
“Yeah,” I said, unable to hide my amusement. “I saw your control from a block away.”
He fell into step beside me. He was . . .
radiant. Expressive. He walked like he couldn’t decide between a strut and a bounce, like there was too much energy trapped in his skin.
His rainbow bracelets caught the light every time he gestured, and he gestured a lot.
Talked a lot too. He was explaining about a pair of sunglasses he almost stole.
“If you’re trying to impress me with that shit, cut it out,” I said. “Don’t steal.”
“I didn’t,” he said defensively. “And I wasn’t trying to impress you. Why would I want to do that? Anyway, why are you staring at me? I can dress however I want!”
“Didn’t say you couldn’t.”
“What’s your problem, then?” he asked, crossing his arms. I smirked as the tension in my gut gradually began to ease.
“You,” I teased.
“Wow. Rude.” He fell silent. Then, more uncertainly, “Really?”
“No.”
A bright smile lit up his face.
We turned the corner, and he slowed down. “You live around here too?”
“Nope. On my way to meet a friend.”
“Oh. What’s their name?”
“Jack.”
The kid stopped dead. “My brother’s name is Jack.”
I stilled, then forced myself to keep moving. “Yeah?”
I’d heard enough stories about Jack’s menace of a little brother to suspect exactly who this was.
“Yeah.” He blinked, the gears turning. “You play games?”
I nodded.
“Great. So you must be the mystery friend he’s been gaming with. The one he’s always talking about.”
“Looks like it.”
He stared at me, biting his lip, glancing at the pavement before looking back at me.
“Don’t—don’t mention the incident,” he said, losing some of his swagger.
“Why?”
“I kind of didn’t have permission to be at the mall,” he admitted in a rush. “Mom told me not to go.”
I gave him a look. “Somehow, I’m not surprised you went anyway.”
He grinned. “So you’re not going to say anything?”
Something about his grin made me want to ruffle his feathers. “Depends. Do you promise to start listening to your mom?”
The grin turned into an indignant frown. “I’m fifteen. Mom thinks there’s a monster around every corner. Nothing’s going to happen to me—”
“You might want to rethink that,” I said, the roughness in my tone surprising even myself. He shrank back, looking almost thrown. Then he stuck out his tongue.
“I had it under control!” he insisted, gesturing wildly. “I know karate.”
I laughed out loud. It was the first time I’d laughed in days. “You’re lying through your teeth, aren’t you?”
He shrugged, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I would’ve improvised.”
Then he stepped closer, buzzing with tension, and gave me a pleading look that made my composure slip.
“Please don’t tell,” he whispered. “I don’t want to be grounded again.”
“Your secret’s safe with me,” I promised. For some reason, it was suddenly important to me too. He beamed. There was something about his smile that made me think of that particular moment in a video game when you realize, one second too late, that your opponent is about to finish you.
Game over.
I was still recovering from that when he delivered the final blow and wrapped his slight arms around me.
I went completely still. I’d spent most of my life expecting hits—giving them, taking them, learning how to survive them.
Nobody had warned me that the thing that would finally knock the air out of me would be a hug from a mouthy kid.
How could something that soft feel so dangerous?