"So why did you tell me?"
I looked at him and then looked at Austin, who stood just behind him. Jacob had goose bumps on his arms, but he wasn't paying attention.
"Because once, when I was a kid, someone I cared about committed suicide," I told him. "I thought it was important that you knew that your brother wasn't that selfish, that he didn't desert you." I turned my face to the river. "If it helps, Tim didn't get away with it."
His response told me I'd been right to believe that anyone Jesse had once liked wasn't irredeemable.
"Does it help you to know that he's dead?" he asked.
I showed him the answer in my face. "Sometimes. Most times. Sometimes not at all."
"I think...I think I believe you. Austin had too much to live for-- and you have no reason to lie to me." He sniffed, then wiped his runny nose on his shoulder, trying to pretend he wasn't crying. "It does help. Thank you."
I shook my head. "Don't thank me yet. That wasn't the only reason I came. You need to know why you don't want to hurt Jesse. Ben? Could you come here a moment?" I threw the stick and Ben tore off after it. I'd been right. He'd had a great time. Scaring teenage bullies was right down his alley.
We'd been gentle with Jacob. Ben had played it just right. Scary enough to convince Jacob that Jesse had a reason to worry that her father would kill anyone who hurt her, but just gentle enough that Jacob had asked to touch.
Ben, like Honey, was beautiful--and he was vain enough to enjoy the attention. Jacob, I thought, was entirely redeemable--and he was ashamed that he'd hurt Jesse. He wouldn't do it again.
I'd gotten the name of his friend...and his friend's girlfriend who had thought the whole thing up. We'd visited them, too. Ben made a really, really scary boogeyman--not that any werewolf wasn't scary. I don't know if they'd ever be people I'd care to know, but at least neither of them would go near Jesse ever again.
Sometimes I am not a nice person. Neither is Ben.
Sunday I went to church and tried to pretend that all the looks were directed at Warren and Kyle, who had come to church with me. But Pastor Julio stopped me at the door.
"Are you all right?" he asked.
I liked him so I didn't growl or snap or do any of the things I felt like doing. "If one more person asks me that, I'm going to drop to the floor and start foaming at the mouth," I told him.
He grinned. "Call me if you need something. I know a good counselor or two."
"Thanks, I will."
We were in the car before Kyle started laughing. "Foam at the mouth?"
"You remember," I said. "We watched The Exorcist a couple of months ago."
"I know a few good counselors, too," he said, and being smart, he continued without giving me a chance to respond. "So what are we doing this afternoon?"
"I don't know what we're doing," I told him. "I'm going to see if I can get my Rabbit running again." The pole barn that served as my home garage was twenty degrees cooler than the sun-scorched outside air. I stood in the dark for a minute, dealing with the momentary panic that the scent of oil and grease brought on. This was the first panic attack of the day, which was exactly one third the number of panic attacks I'd had yesterday.
Warren didn't say anything; not when I was fighting for breath and not when I'd recovered--which is one of the reasons I love him.
I hit the lights as soon as the sweat began drying on my shirt.
"I'm not too optimistic about the Rabbit's chances," I told Warren. "When Gabriel and I brought it home, I checked it out a little. Looks like Fideal turned my diesel to saltwater--and it's been sitting in my tank and lines since Tuesday."
"And that's bad." Warren knew about as much about cars as I did about cows. Which is to say, not a thing. Kyle was better, but given the choice, he'd opted for the air-conditioned house and chocolate chip cookies.
I popped the hood and stared down at the old diesel engine. "It'd probably be as cheap to go find another one in a junkyard and use this for parts as it would be to fix it."
Problem was I had a lot more places to put money than I had money to put there. I owed Adam for the damage to his house and car. He hadn't said anything, but I owed him. And I hadn't been to work since Wednesday.
Tomorrow was Monday.
"Do you want to try this later?" Warren's sharp glance lingered on my face.
"No, I'm all right."