Chapter 30
THIRTY
THORNE
My favorite Glock weighs heavily in my hand, but that doesn’t stop me from raising it high and pumping the entire clip into the target. Round after round shreds the paper target, bits of white material flying through the air.
Once the clip is empty, I wait for Knox to finish his target practice before we head to the end of our makeshift range.
Knox and I pooled our money and purchased this plot of land in the New York countryside, so we’d have some privacy to shoot, spar, and talk without interference.
He could come to my house or I could go to his if we needed to make plans, but there would always be the risk of someone overhearing what we say.
Especially because Knox lives in an apartment above his tattoo parlor.
“Nice grouping,” Knox says in that lazy drawl of his, like words are lucky he wants to speak them. He has a soothing way of talking that relaxes even the most uptight of us. Orion opens up to Knox way more than the rest of us because he’s such a calming presence.
And he’s probably the deadliest of us all.
I have a few shots that are in the same area center mass, while others are scattered. Looking over at Knox’s target, I see every round pierced where the heart would be, shot in a tight circle.
I give him a dry look, and he chuckles. “Yeah, thanks.”
We pull our targets down and tack more up before heading back down the lane.
As I slip in another clip, Knox says, “Talked to B yesterday.”
Sighing, I lower my Glock. “How did he sound?”
“Tired. I’ll make a trip up there as soon as my schedule clears.”
“He’ll be pissed,” I say with a sad smile.
Knox shrugs, leaning against the ramshackle stand we use while shooting. “He’ll be fine.” He pauses for a few beats. “What if something happens to him and we don’t find out until it’s too late?”
I frown down at my heavy boots. The same thought has run loops around my mind since he told us his diagnosis.
I call Bensotti more than I ever have, just to check in and make sure he’s still alive. We could all die any day for any reason but knowing he has an illness that could be terminal with no one there to take care of him, it’s messing with me.
Tugging at my hair, I say, “I want to get him here. I’m not sure how we’ll talk him into it, but we need to try.”
Knox wings up an eyebrow. “You gonna move him into your small apartment? Or you think he’ll be content to live above a tattoo shop?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” Throwing up my hands, I ask, “What else are we gonna do? Let him die alone? You know he won’t let me leave school or you sell your business. We have to get him here.”
He chews on his lip ring, his head down while he thinks.
Bensotti is the only adult that gave a shit about the four of us. He took us in, helping us when we needed it the most. He was our arresting officer, yeah, but he made sure we knew he was there if we needed him. And every time we called, he came through.
If some other cop found me, I’d be serving life or probably be on death row right now.
Knox was found on the streets, though I only know a little of his past—enough to know Bensotti saved him too.
Pyro was rescued from a cult when he was a kid, Bensotti the responding officer.
Orion dug into some top-secret shit that could have gotten him locked in a prison where no one would have been able to find the key, but Bensotti called in so many favors that he’ll probably owe until his dying day.
He stuck his neck out for all of us, even when none of us had promised to work for him. The least we can do is make sure that if he dies, he doesn’t do it alone.
Reaching into his pocket, Knox pulls out his phone and calls our group chat. I silence the ringing of my phone and step closer to him. First Pyro, then Orion answers. Both look as if we’ve interrupted something—sleep for Pyro and maybe a marathon hacking session for Orion.
Pyro pushes his sleep mask off, rubbing his tired brown eyes. “What? It’s like eight in the morning here.”
“You should be up by now,” Orion says distractedly, his fingers moving across a keyboard.
In a saccharine voice, Pyro says, “And you should kiss my ass.”
Orion darts an eye to the phone, then turns back to his computer, shaking his head.
“Before you two start arguing,” Knox says, pulling both of their attention to him, “we have an issue. It’s Bensotti.”
Pyro sits up quickly and Orion stops typing, turning fully to the camera.
“Is he…” Pyro clears his throat.
“No,” I say, slapping Knox on the arm. “He’s fine.
Or as fine as he’ll be.” Both Pyro and Orion screw their faces up, probably aiming their looks of ire at Knox.
“We need to figure out how to get him to Meadowbrook. With two of us here, it’ll be easy to take care of him.
But we need to make the argument convincing. ”
“Three,” Pyro says. “I’m moving back soon. I found an apartment that will rent month to month. So, you’re getting a new neighbor.”
Orion scoffs. “I’m not moving. I don’t want to live in the cold.”
“Then stay your bitter ass in Florida,” Pyro says, pushing his hair back from his face.
I think Pyro is still salty because he tried to get in Orion’s pants, but O wasn’t into him. According to Pyro, everyone is into him, even those that don’t want to admit it.
O doesn’t reply, just stares with that blank face of his.
Knox and I exchange a glance before I say, “Okay, three of us. He says he’s going to treatment, but he’s stubborn. I don’t know if I believe him.”
“He is,” Orion says in his dead voice. “I’ve been checking his medical records. He goes to chemo twice a week for three hours. He has a nurse that sits with him, since he told them he has no family.”
“Stubborn fucker,” I mutter. He knows that I really don’t care about this college shit. I could find a job anywhere doing practically anything. I could move to the sticks of New York and take care of him then enroll into Meadowbrook or any other college.
But he keeps telling me I can’t waste my big brain.
“At least he’s doing that,” I murmur. “We have a school break coming up soon, so I’ll drive down and check on him. If he has chemo on that Friday, I can sit with him.”
“He goes Tuesday and Thursday mornings,” Orion says.
“Fuck.” I take my lip ring into my mouth, worrying it against my teeth.
“If you want to wait until I get there,” Pyro says, “we can gang up on him. He can’t tell all of us no.”
The three of us give Pyro the same look. Bensotti has told all of us no at one time or another. He just hasn’t told Pyro no on his own.
Pyro is so adorable, so sweet looking that most people have a hard time refusing him. But we know his tricks and they don’t work on us.
“We’ll figure it out,” Knox says. “In the meantime, make sure y’all call to check on him. He said he hadn’t heard from you in like two weeks, Py.”
“Yeah, because I’ve been busy. Have you heard about the wildfire in Pasadena?”
“Jesus, Py,” I groan.
“What?” he asks innocently. “I had to find a way to get rid of the bodies. They were on a hike, so the fire marshal chalked it up to a campfire.”
“No more,” Knox says, his soothing voice holding some bite. “You’ll get yourself hurt.”
“Okay, fine. No more,” Pyro says and actually sounds like he means it.
We don’t have a leader amongst us, but if we did, it would be Knox. He’s the stealthiest, the most unassuming and the deadliest. We all have our strengths, but Knox is the only one that keeps his head in high-stress situations. Me, Py and O lose our shit at the drop of a hat.
Well, O mostly turns in on himself, only coming back out of his shell when he’s good and ready.
Knox is the only one that uses his head and puts the mission first. He’s saved my ass more times than I can count.
“Orion, keep an eye on B’s medical records,” Knox says. “If he stops going to his appointments, you call me immediately.”
“Got it.”
“Send us a copy of his records too,” I say, needing all the information on Bensotti just in case he wants to lie about his treatment.
“Done.”
“I’ll be there next month,” Pyro says, doing a little dance on his bed. “I can’t wait. Being so far away fucking blows.”
Knox gives him a genuine smile. “It’ll be good to have you close by. We worry about you.”
“Really?’ Py asks, sounding shocked.
With his past, I’m sure it’s hard to believe that someone cares about him, but we all have a bond. He’s like the little brother I never had.
Summer would have loved him.
Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I say, “Of course. While you’re here, we can curb your pyromaniac ways.”
He smiles, holding up the forever match Bensotti gifted him for his eighteenth birthday. “Never.”
Some way, we’ll figure out how to take care of B like he’s taken care of us. He might not want it, but we’ll do our part to let him know that we won’t lose him without a fight.
He probably fucked up when he took the four of us under his wing. He might not have wanted kids, but when he saved us, he got them.