Dead Man's Deal The Asylum Tales - By Jocelynn Drake Page 0,163

when I left, but for now we smiled and laughed over my bad relationships and tattooing adventures.

A comfortable lull in the conversation had Dad taking command again. “Was Robert the reason for this visit?”

“Part,” I admitted with a blush. At least I had the decency to look embarrassed. “Part was because I didn’t know you were in Low Town until I spoke to Robert and I wanted to see you. And part is because I need to ask a favor.” I stopped, my mind struggling with how to broach the subject.

“It’s okay, honey. We’ll help you any way we can,” Mom coaxed.

“I know, but it’s a lot to ask.”

“Then ask and see if we can help,” Dad pushed, bringing a grin to my lips.

“A while ago, five kids escaped from the Towers much like I did,” I started, and then paused, licking my lips. Good grief, I had to be out of my fucking mind to even think this was a good idea, but I plunged ahead. “They’re young, between the ages of nine and seventeen. They can’t go home because the Towers are searching for them and it’s the first place they’d look. We’ve managed to find homes for some of them.”

I paused again and sighed, shoving one hand through my hair as I fought to block out visions of Alice. “Look, when we first came up with the idea of finding a home for these kids, you were the first people I thought of. I don’t know what it was, but you did something right with me. I got out of the Towers. I stuck to the ideas of right and wrong that you gave me. I clung to the belief that people were good. I’m afraid that if they don’t find someone like you, they’re going to end up like the monsters in the Towers despite having escaped. I won’t lie to you. There is some risk, but we can take precautions to protect you and them. If expense is a problem, I can help. I have some money saved.”

“Honey,” Mom said, laying her hand against my cheek. I was babbling. I was afraid if I stopped talking, they’d say no. She smiled at me. “What are their names?”

“Étienne is seventeen and from France, but his English is excellent. Anthony is fourteen and American. They escaped together and are close like brothers. Something in my gut says it would be a bad idea to separate them. I—”

I instantly shut up again when Mom put her hand against my cheek again. She looked over at my father and said nothing. He smiled at her and said nothing. Maybe that’s what came of thirty years of marriage. You didn’t need words anymore to say the things that needed to be said.

When she looked back at me, she was smiling a secret little smile that came with being a mom. “When can they move in?”

I pulled Mom to me in a fierce hug as a shudder of relief ran through my body. “Thank you. Thank you so much. I will help you in any way I can, I promise,” I said in a choked whispered.

Mom ran her hand over my back, soothing away the shaking. “We’re proud of you, Jason,” she murmured in my ear. “We always have been.”

After a moment I pulled away and hugged Dad, who only laughed at my worry. I should have known they wouldn’t hesitate to help the runaways.

At Mom’s urging, we followed her into the kitchen so we could sit at the table and talk while she finished making dinner. Throughout the meal, she hit me with a mound of questions, pulling out all the information I had about Étienne and Tony. By the end of dinner, she had a legal pad beside her, making a list of all the things that she would need to get to make the house ready before they arrived. Dad smiled, happy to leave the planning in her hands. As I said, Dad was practical.

It was after eleven when I finally managed to step outside the house following a series of long hugs and promises to come back soon with the boys. Leaving that night was one of the hardest things I had ever done, but I promised myself that I’d be back soon. I promised myself that my parents would be safe.

As I reached the bottom step, I realized that I never told them that my name was now Gage Powell. I never explained why I looked