I popped up at the front of the van and clapped my hands.
“Who is that?” my father’s voice yelled.
I looked over my shoulder and saw Murph was across the street and cutting into the bushes to stay out of sight.
When I turned my head again, my father was charging down the porch steps.
He stopped on the second and our eyes locked.
Father and son.
Jamison and Josh.
He knew exactly who I was.
I knew exactly who he was.
His mouth opened like he was going to say something.
This was my moment to spew it all at him. The anger. The hatred. Every little word I had been building up for so long. The fact that he dropped off a baby at my house and left that baby to be raised by me and Gram. The fact that that baby was now in a little casket in the ground and he didn’t have the nerve to show up to the funeral. He wasn’t there the entire time Delaney was sick. Or maybe the fact that Gram was home right now, sitting on the couch, shaking like she was sitting in shorts and a t-shirt in Antarctica.
I didn’t want to speak to him.
I wanted to hurt him.
Instead, I turned and ran.
It was like walking into the most perfect day of the year. The kind of day in either spring or fall. In spring when the air was the perfect temperature. Birds chirping. Trees and flowers blooming. Where nothing is going on, yet everything is alive. And the kind of day in fall where the leaves are rustling and falling. The air is so crisp but not exactly cold.
That was what seeing Amelia was like.
I had been walking toward her house and she had been walking toward me.
We looked at each other and both stopped walking.
I somehow saw her eyes in the darkness of the night. Like a light had been shining in them.
I think I was falling for her.
Three years older than her really meant a lot at our age, but I couldn’t help my feelings. She knew more and understood more than so many girls her age and older. When I looked at a girl like Cassie, there was nothing there. Murph was all over her because of her low-cut shirts and willingness to do anything. Which was cool. Cassie could come hang with us and be someone different. New name. New clothes. And go wild.
I didn’t want that for Amelia.
That’s why I protected her from Murph, Nash, Abel and all the others.
That was a crazy way to live.
If Amelia went anywhere near it… I would have to confess to her…
“Josh,” she said. “How do you know?”
“Know what?”
“When I need you the most,” she said.
I hurried to her.
Without thinking, my hands touched her face. Sliding against her soft cheeks and into her curly hair. I stared down at her with an intense look, looking for any marks from her father. Because if that dirtbag ever touched her again I was going to kill him.
In fact, I wanted to put Amelia’s father and my father into my father’s van and send it over a cliff.
Her face was clear. Clean. Soft. Beautiful.
“Shit,” I said and stepped back, taking my hands away. “Sorry.”
“No. Come here.” Amelia grabbed my hands and put them to her face. “I like it. It feels good.”
My thumbs stroked her cheeks up and down. The feeling that raced through my body started to drive me crazy.
“What happened?” I whispered to her.
“You first. You were coming to find me.”
“Yeah, I was.”
“So…?”
I shook my head. “Same old shit, Amelia.”
“What does that mean? You never tell me anything.”
“I’m here to protect you. The best I can.”
“It’s bad,” she said. “Just everything is bad.”
I want to steal you away, Amelia. I want to change our names for good and start over.
“Hey,” I said. “Do you want a drink?”
Amelia grinned. “Yes…”
Murph would have my head if he knew I’d brought Amelia to our stash. We worked hard to collect this stuff and the rule was to drink it together. But if I told him who I was with and why, he’d let it go. All I would need to do was give him some wild story of what Amelia and I had done together in the woods.
I hated lying but it kept Amelia protected from Murph and the guys.
Watching Amelia sip the bottle of vodka made me smile.