Running Scared (33 page)

“But not just for today.”

“Eventually I’ll have to move on.”

“Soon.”

“Probably.”

Kate made a strangled sound in the back of her throat. Daegan glanced at her over Jon’s shoulder and his insides curled in disgust when he recognized the pain he’d caused her.

“Why?” she asked.

“It’s time.”

“You’re a bastard,” Jon accused him, backing away from him as Daegan yanked open the door and a cold blast of wind tore through the house.

Daegan turned his collar up around his neck. He stepped out onto the porch and slammed the door behind him. “You got that right, Jon,” he said to the bleak, frigid afternoon. “You sure as hell got that right.”

“You little shit!” Todd Neider’s voice, a harsh whisper, seemed to resound off the lockers, and Jon, already late for class, froze in his tracks. “Stay away from Jennie.”

Gritting his teeth, Jon turned and found Todd striding toward him. The older boy was like an enraged bull, eyes full of fire, nostrils flared as if he smelled something foul, black T-shirt barely covering his gut.

Stand firm. Don’t let him push you around.
“You can’t tell me what to do.”

Two juniors stopped halfway up the stairs as if they smelled a fight in the air. They yelled to some other kids, who turned quickly to gather by the freshmen lockers near the gym. The smell of the locker rooms—sweat and disinfectant—was only overridden by the scent of fear—Jon’s fear. All he really wanted to do was run as fast as he could, but it was time to make a stand.

The final bell buzzed loudly and a few more kids who would’ve been tardy for their next class anyway stopped to watch as Todd bore down on Jon.

“She doesn’t want anything to do with a freak like you,” Todd said. “No one does.”

For the first time, Jon didn’t believe him. Jennifer Caruso had written him a note—just a friendly note, but a note all the same—and it was now tucked deep in his wallet. She’d asked him to call her, and no one, not even Todd with his I’m-going-to-beat-the-living-crap-out-of-you scowl, could change Jon’s mind. All in all, it had been a lousy day because he knew that Daegan was leaving, hadn’t heard a word from him for nearly five days, but Jennifer’s note had raised his spirits. Neider wasn’t going to change that. “I think Jennifer can make her own decisions.”

“You’re bothering her.”

“Nah,” Jon said, spying Dennis Morrisey and Joey Flanders hanging out at the water fountain, looking over their shoulders, too cowardly to do anything on their own but loving the fact that Todd intended to play hard-ball. Well, this time, Todd was in for a surprise. Jon was ready. Not only had he learned a little bit more about the bully the other day when he slammed Jon up against the outside wall of the audiovisual room and Jon had glimpsed into his small mind, but Jon was made of tougher stuff these days. All of Daegan’s lessons were about to be put to the test, and even if he lost this round, he’d put up a better fight than Neider with his limited imagination could ever expect. “I’m not bothering Jennifer, but I’m sure as hell bothering you,” Jon said.

“Me?”

“Yeah. For some reason you feel inferior to me and you have to—”

“Inferior?” Todd repeated with a laugh as he reached Jon and sized him up. “To you?”

“—show off and try and push me around so that you can feel like a big man when everyone knows you’re a mental midget. It’s probably ’cause Jennifer and a lot of other girls wouldn’t give you the time of day.”

Whispers rippled through the semicircle of boys who had gathered. Todd’s face burst into color. “You little prick.”

“At least I don’t jack off looking at pictures of Miss Knowlton!”

Todd’s mouth slackened and everyone laughed. Brenda Knowlton was the music teacher—probably somewhere near thirty-five—with flaming red hair, matching scarlet lips, and a figure that wouldn’t quit. She also had a voice that rivaled fingernails on a chalkboard and a burly boyfriend who was an officer in the town’s police department. “I don’t—”

“Sure you do,” Jon taunted. “And unless you stop this right now, I’ll tell more.”

“No way—”

“Like the way you steal
Penthouse
and
Playboy
from Parson’s Drugstore. Mrs. Olsen saw you, too.”

“The busybody?” Todd asked, suckered in for a second.

“You’re goin’ down, Neider.”

Todd’s big fists clenched. His two eyebrows became one. His glower was downright murderous. “I’ll kill you,” he said so quietly that Jon’s blood turned to ice.

“I don’t think so.”

“Just watch.” Rounding, Todd threw a punch, aimed squarely for Jon’s jaw. Jon ducked and rolled onto the balls of his feet. His heart was hammering and he watched every muscle in Todd’s face as the bigger boy came at him again, both fists swinging wildly.

“Fight! Fight!” some of the boys yelled as Jon feinted right and Todd’s fist hit his shoulder in a glancing blow that didn’t do much damage.

Jon swung. Two punches to the ribs and he backed away, ready to strike again when Dennis Morrisey shoved him back at Todd and he lost his footing.

Crack! Todd’s fist connected with his jaw. Pain jolted, like a bolt of lightning down his spine. Bam! A hard blow to the stomach. His insides cramped. The floor rushed up at him and he fell, hearing Todd’s sick laughter. Jon tasted blood, but didn’t stop. As Todd took a step forward, Jon swept his legs in a deadly arc, knocking the bigger boy off his feet.

Todd went down hard, a thud shaking the floor, his head snapping back to smash against the thin carpeting and cement underneath.

In a howl of pain, Todd rolled over and grabbed Jon by the neck. Jon kicked and punched, but Todd was seventy pounds heavier and he just tightened his grip, cutting off Jon’s air, hauling him toward the bathroom.

No! No! No!
Jon’s mind screamed and he writhed like a slick eel, trying to get away, swinging at Todd’s bulging tummy, his sneakers dragging along the carpet. He heard the sniggers and whispers as the bathroom door flew open and the smell of urine and running water greeted him. Jon fought and snarled like a hound from hell, but Todd cornered him against one of the urinals, thrust his head in, and began flushing. A rush of cold water sprayed over him. Jon hit his head on the porcelain and coughed and sputtered.

“Bastard!” Todd yelled. “Cocksucker!”

“Cretin!” Jon screamed.

Todd kneed him in the groin and he doubled over, water still spraying everywhere and washing down the back of his neck. In that moment he saw an image in his mind of Todd, coughing and crying, water filling his lungs, drowning. Jon froze. “It’s gonna happen to you,” he yelled between gasps for air. “You’re the one who’s gonna drown…”

“Shut up, Summers. You don’t scare me.”

“I’m serious.” Jon tried to look at the other boy over his shoulder, to convince him. “Todd, it’s gonna happen!”

“Like hell!” Again the rumble and gush of the urinal.

The vision was clearer—Todd was trying and failing to swim. “The lake—or river—or—” Again the flood of water and Jon gave up, the vision leaving as he tried to gasp for breath.

“Stay away from Jennie!” Todd ordered again and suddenly the room changed. Still coughing and barely breathing, Jon felt it. People had cleared out.

“What’s going on here?” a hard male voice demanded. Mr. Jones, the algebra teacher and varsity track coach.

Neider’s grip on his neck slackened, and Jon, soaked to the skin, slid on the wet floor.

“Come on, you two. I think it’s time you took a walk down to the office. The rest of you get to your classes or you’ll all be suspended, too.” He shepherded them out the door, and Jon, dripping and mortified, started toward the office when he saw her. His heart dropped and he wanted to die.

Jennifer Caruso’s choir class was in the hallway by the auditorium, waiting to enter. She was with a group of girls laughing and talking until her gaze landed on Jon and she bit her lip. Conversation stopped as they passed and several girls tittered at the sight of Jon.

“Take a shower?” nerdy Dwight Little muttered as Jon walked by.

“Would ya look at that?” Belinda Cawthorne frowned in disgust, as if he were covered in maggots.

“I guess Jon didn’t
see
Neider coming. All those visions and what good are they?” Dwight was enjoying someone else being the brunt of jokes.

“Don’t worry, he’ll run to his mama and she’ll talk to the sheriff,” Belinda said in her goody-goody know-it-all voice.

“I heard he took a drink from the urinal.”

“Shut up, Little, you’re
so
gross!”

But Belinda and several other girls laughed. Jon prayed the earth would open up and swallow him whole. Every shred of pride he’d had, every ounce of self-respect, had been flushed away.

Jennifer didn’t say a word, just stared after him, and he refused to meet her eyes. Deep in his heart he knew he’d never find the guts to call her. Not now. Not after Todd Neider had stripped away all of his dignity. A lot of good Daegan’s lessons had done him. He scowled more darkly as they rounded the corner to the vice principal’s office. He didn’t want to think about Daegan. The guy was leaving town—just walking out of Hopewell as if he didn’t give a damn. As if Jon and his mother didn’t care.

Grinding his back teeth together, he decided the less he thought of O’Rourke the better, but he couldn’t help feeling that he’d been betrayed. The same way he felt when old Eli had kicked off, except this was worse. Eli hadn’t had a choice when he’d left. O’Rourke had.

Kate hauled her briefcase from the car and tried, as she had for the past five days, not to dwell on the fact that she’d obviously lost her heart to Daegan and that he was leaving soon. Just when she was learning to trust again, just when she’d convinced herself it was time to love again, just after she’d felt the joy and elation of falling in love, he was taking off.

“Pathetic,” she muttered and told herself it was probably for the best. Houndog yipped from inside the house and Jon was waiting for her at the door. His eyes were dark and sullen, his face bruised on one side. “Don’t tell me,” she said, tired from the inside out even though fresh rage was burning through her blood. “Todd Neider.”

“Yeah.”

“Do I want to know what happened?”

Jon shook his head. “The good news is that I’m not suspended again and I didn’t lose any teeth.”

“And the bad news?” she asked, bracing herself.

“I got the crap kicked out of me.” His discolored jaw tightened. “And I’m never going back to school.”

She started to argue with him, but thought better of it. He needed to work this out and so did she. She itched to pick up the phone and call the school, the police,
Daegan,
anyone who would be her son’s ally in this ongoing and dangerous battle, but instead she tried to hang on to her rapidly fleeing patience. “Tell me what happened,” she encouraged and set her briefcase on the entry hall table calmly when she wanted to scream and rant and rave.

“There’s not much to tell,” he said, trying to squirm away.

“I need information, Jon.”

“Oh, hell,” he said, then looked at the floor. “Okay, Neider was mad at me for talking to Jennifer Caruso.”

“His girlfriend?”

“In his dreams,” Jon said, and Kate, still so furious she felt like she might explode, held her tongue. She’d known that Jon had a crush on someone, but so far had never heard a name. “Anyway, he came at me and we got into it and…oh, man…” He sighed loudly, crossed his arms over his chest, and reluctantly gave her the blow by blow, his face awash with color.

“I can’t believe it,” Kate said, sick inside when she realized how mortified her son was.

“Yeah, but even though I was in a fight with him, enough kids stuck up for me and told McPherson the truth—that Todd started it and there was no way I could back down. McPherson didn’t really buy that, he’s the kind of guy who thinks there’s always a way to avoid a fight, but he knows what’s gone on in the past. So he suspended Todd for a week. I think Neider’s dad had to come in because he might even be expelled.”

“Good.” Kate had had it. Even though the Neider boy never caught many breaks in life, it didn’t make it right that he was always picking on younger, weaker kids. “I want to swear out a complaint against him. Then I’ll tell his father that—”

“No!”

“What, but Jon—”

“What good did it do before? You talked to the sheriff and Daegan, he”—Jon’s voice cracked—“he went over to Neider’s place. All that did was get Todd a beating and make him madder. At me.”

“He’s a menace and dangerous and this time is different because you’ve got witnesses. Kids that will stick up for you and tell the police what happened. It’s not speculation. And if as you say, his father’s abusing him, then it’s only right that Todd be placed in a foster home and—”

“No! Oh, man, he’d kill me! No police.” Jon dug his heels in. “Just stay out of it.”

“I can’t!”

“The school’s handling it.”

“But next time it could be worse. I can’t stand by and let some bully—”

“I mean it, Mom,” he said in a voice that was so deadly calm it scared her. “If you go into the school and make a big stink or go see the sheriff again, it’ll only be worse. Already the kids think I’m some kind of pansy because of you. So don’t. McPherson will call you. You don’t have to do any more. Besides—” He hesitated a second and he worried his lip. “I have this feeling…that Todd’s gonna be in serious trouble.”

“With his father?”

“Yeah, but it’s more than that…”

“What?”

He shook his head. “Just leave it alone. Besides, it doesn’t matter. I’m never going back to school anyway.”

“Of course you are.”

“No, Ma, I’m not,” he said with such gritty determination she nearly believed him. “Never again.”

“You’ll change your mi—”

“I won’t. Not after today.” Jon was defiant, his eyes narrowing as if he hoped she’d argue with him, as if he still itched for a fight. Whistling to the dog, he strode through the back door, and Houndog, clumps of fur still uneven, darted outside.

Kate’s fingers curled over the edge of the counter in a death grip. She wanted to run after her son and have this battle right now, but she knew instinctively that she had to give him a little time and space; they’d talk later, after dinner, when they were both calmer. But she was sick inside, her stomach churning, her anger snapping through her bones. Slowly and surely, Jon, the baby she’d adopted fifteen years before, was slipping through her fingers. It didn’t matter that the visions he’d had months ago hadn’t come true, that the man he feared hadn’t shown up, just as certainly he was being ripped from her by his growing up. And she wasn’t ready.

But he was right about one thing: she couldn’t keep treating him as if he were seven.

Shoving her hair out of her eyes, she glanced out the window toward the copse of pine trees and the old McIntyre spread beyond. She suddenly felt hollow inside, the same emptiness she’d experienced from the moment Daegan had walked out her front door on Thanksgiving. It was silly, really, she thought as she poured the remainder of this morning’s coffee down the sink and dumped the filter of wet grounds into the trash. She’d found herself listening for the sound of his truck or making up silly little excuses to go visit him—which she’d never done, thank God. She’d told Jon to avoid any contact with Daegan. He’d made it all too clear on Thanksgiving that he didn’t want to get too close to them, that he planned to move, that in a matter of days or weeks he’d be gone. Whatever it was that had held him here had lost its allure.