Page 12 of Dark Roads

“That the best you can do? Try harder.”

“No.” I turned to the side, refusing to look him in the eye.

He let go of my wrists and got to his feet. With the sun behind his head, his face was all in black. I lay sprawled in the dirt, trying to catch my breath, and rubbed at my shoulders.

“If this was a real situation, you’d be dead by now.” He stepped over my body and headed to the truck.

He sped down the highway, braking hard on the curves, tires squealing. His mouth was a thin line, his sunglasses covering his eyes, but I couldn’t get a handle on his mood. He neverspoke to me once and finally screeched to a halt at the end of his driveway. I scrabbled at the door. He reached across and gripped my knee, holding me in place.

“Someone stole a carburetor from Cooper’s farm. You know anything about that?”

I shook my head and tried to keep my expression flat.

“What was Jonny doing Sunday night?”

“Don’t know.”

“Jonny isn’t a minor anymore.”

“So?”

“So he could be pulled over at any time, his truck searched. He could end up in jail.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“I don’t want you with him anymore.”

“You don’t get to just—”

“I can do whatever I want.” He spoke with no anger. No force behind his words. He didn’t need to prove himself. He looked at me as though I werenothing. A breeze in a tornado.

He held my eyes for a few more beats. “Got it?” He waited until I nodded, then unlocked the door. I yanked on the handle, almost falling out, and climbed into the back to get my bike—tossing it to the ground. He didn’t leave until I was inside the house.

My phone vibrated in my pocket.

Lock the door behind you.

CHAPTER 4

Lana and Cash were asleep. Vaughn was due home soon. I rolled off my bed in the dark, tiptoed to my closet, and opened the door slowly. Clothes brushed the top of my head as I huddled on the floor and pushed aside shoes to make room. My phone lit up the small area as I called Jonny.

“What’s going on?” Jonny’s voice was hushed on the other end. I imagined him in his room, his parents sleeping upstairs, his two brothers down the hall.

“Vaughn says we can’t hang out—he took me to the lake, like patrolling or whatever, and drove through the campsite, talking about the murders.” The words fell out in a rush, anger twisting my tongue. “He was showing me one of the cabins and acting like he was trying to give me self-defense moves but he dropped me on the ground—hard—and pinned me.”

“Are you kidding?” He wasn’t whispering anymore. I imagined him sitting up in bed, flipping on the light. “I’m going to kill him.”

“Shut up. You’re not doing anything.” It made me feel better. The offer. Dad would have gone over with a shotgun. But if Dad were alive, Vaughn would never have dared touch me. “He knows about the carburetor—he was asking questions. You have to get rid of it.”

“Why is he screwing with you like this?”

“Because he’s on a power trip? I don’t know, but he’s legit serious. He could put something in your truck.”

“Don’t worry about me. I can handle him.”

“Cops plant stuff all the time. Drugs, stolen goods. It would mess up your chances of getting sponsors.” He was quiet this time. He knew I was right. “Delete all our texts. We can communicate through Facebook Messenger. I’ll make sure I’m always signed out of everything.”

I didn’t think Vaughn would take my phone—he needed to check on me when I was babysitting.