Far from the Tree - Robin Benway Page 0,78

pressed his arm harder across Adam’s chest, sliding it up toward his throat—“and you’re going to have to talk to me. You got that?”

Adam nodded nervously, his pupils dilated. Next to him, his friend was standing silent.

So was Grace.

“Now get the fuck out of here,” Joaquin said, and Maya thought it was more of a growl, a bear on the attack. “If I see you again, you and me, we’re going to have problems.”

Adam nodded again, and Joaquin gave him one final press before locking eyes with him, then letting him go. He and his friend scurried away as Joaquin seemed to slump, all his bravado slinking away and leaving him like a shell.

“Joaquin,” Grace said. She was panting now. So was Joaquin.

“Joaquin,” Maya said when he didn’t answer.

“I—I’m sorry,” he said, his breath coming in short gasps, and then suddenly he was leaving the patio, running down the street, sprinting away from them, trying to escape.

JOAQUIN

Joaquin thought that he was going to be sick.

He wasn’t quite sure what had happened. One minute, he had been sitting with Maya and Grace, thinking about Mark and Linda, and then that fucking weasel had come up to Grace, had make her shake in her shoes, had called her a slut, and Joaquin felt himself slip into that white-hot space that he had spent years trying to avoid.

He’d be lying if he said it didn’t feel good to feel that kid’s pulse beating fast against his arm, his breath short, his eyes blown wide open. It was a powerful thing to literally hold someone’s fate in your hand, and Joaquin hadn’t had that sort of power in a long time.

The problem with power, though, is that having it doesn’t always make you a good person. Sometimes, it makes you the bad guy.

Joaquin ran until he hit the edge of the park that bordered the mall, one that was usually used only by toddlers and their attentive parents, and it wasn’t until he stopped that he realized his sisters were hot on his trail. “Joaquin!” they were shouting, dashing after him. “Joaquin, wait!”

Joaquin turned, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. He hadn’t run like that in a long time. He felt as if he could keep running forever. “Just—go away, okay?” he said to his sisters, holding out his hand as if to keep them at bay. “I’m sorry, I ruined our day.”

“You’re shaking,” Grace told him. She was still trembling, too. Maya was the only one who seemed steady, her eyes wild and alive. “You should sit down.”

“I’m fine,” Joaquin spat out. “I just got upset, that’s all. I’m sorry.”

Grace just shook her head at him. “I’m not,” she said. “He deserved it.”

“Joaquin.” Now Maya was stepping toward him. “Let’s go sit down at least, okay? You don’t look good.”

Joaquin didn’t feel that great, either. “Okay,” he said.

“Okay,” Maya said, holding out her hand to him. “Let’s sit. Sitting is great. Everyone likes sitting, even active people. Do you run competitively or something? Because you were hauling ass across the parking lot. I think you outran a Tesla at one point.”

Somewhere in the back of his brain, where it was fuzzy with memories, Joaquin remembered Maya saying that she talked a lot when she was nervous. He had made her nervous, Joaquin realized, and that only made him feel worse.

By the time the three of them sat down on a bench, Joaquin bookended by his two sisters, his breath was starting to come back a little. Grace still looked pretty shaky, though, and Joaquin noticed that she kept her hands clenched tightly in her lap.

“Okay,” Maya said as soon as they were settled. “What the hell was that?”

“He called Grace a slut,” Joaquin said. He could barely get his voice above a murmur. “He shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, I don’t mean that,” Maya said. “I mean the sprint across the parking lot, Joaq. You ran like a scared rabbit.”

That wasn’t exactly the image that Joaquin had of himself, but maybe Maya was right. He had never seen himself run, after all.

When he didn’t say anything, Grace unclenched her hands and reached over to take one of Joaquin’s. “Joaquin,” she said quietly. “What happened?”

He wrapped his fingers around hers, clenched and unclenched her hand until he felt like he could speak again. Grace was fine, he reminded himself. No one had gotten hurt. He hadn’t hurt anyone.

Maya was pressed against his other side, her hand on his shoulder. “You’re okay,

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