The Same Place (The Lamb and the Lion #2) - Gregory Ashe Page 0,97

where it was thinning. He’d lost some weight, and although it probably hadn’t happened overnight, Jem was noticing it now.

“Playing with trash?” Ammon said.

Scipio was still growling, his legs locked, his whole body aimed like a missile at Ammon. Without even thinking about it, Jem put his hand on the Lab’s back, and the dog leaned hard into his leg. The growl vibrated up into Jem.

“What?” Ammon said. “No jokes? No little jabs?”

Jem couldn’t swallow. His throat was too dry.

Two young guys—brothers, by the look of them—emerged from a ground-floor apartment, laughing, and then one pushed the other and took off in a run. The other stumbled, recovered, and sprinted after him, screaming, “I’m going to put a Super Soaker up your asshole!”

“Come on,” Ammon said. “This is where you get to be the tough guy. Be macho. Piss all over everything like a dumb dog. Tell me this is your turf. Tell me to back off.”

When Jem spoke, it sounded like someone else was talking. “Tean’s not here.”

“I know he’s not here.” Ammon shifted his weight. “Come on. Say something.”

The world came down to the paper crinkling as Jem’s hand tightened around it, Scipio’s silky fur, the thrum of the growl passing into Jem’s body, the warmth of the sun, the laughter fading in the distance.

“Damn, you really are stupid, aren’t you?” Ammon said. “I mean, I knew you were an illiterate, drugged-up punk, but I always thought you were street smart. You don’t see the way things are going? You don’t see how it’s all changing?”

Jem stood up so abruptly that Scipio let out a startled noise, and the dog backed away from him.

“That’s right,” Ammon said. “I’ll give you the first one free. Take a swing.”

Be smart, a tiny voice was saying inside Jem’s head. Be smart, because he wants you to be stupid. He wants you to hit him because then you’re going to jail, and by the time things get straightened out—if they get straightened out—it’ll be too late.

Too late for what? Jem wanted to ask.

But he thought he knew.

“Pussy,” Ammon said.

“You need to go. Get out of here.”

To Jem’s surprise, Ammon grinned. Then he laughed. “You have no idea how funny that is.”

“Goodbye, Ammon.”

“I’ll be back. He’s mine. You get that, right? All the work I put into him, all the years, all the things we’ve shared. You can be his little fuckboy distraction. That’s all right. He needs to get it out of his system. But he’s mine, and when I say the game is over, the game’s over.”

“You’re psycho. You know that, right?” Jem finally managed to work some saliva into his mouth, and he swallowed. “That’s a crazy way to talk about another person.”

“I’ll see you around,” Ammon said, still smiling. He sauntered off to an unmarked car, and when he pulled away, he waved at Jem.

Jem dropped onto the bench; it creaked, and for a moment, he thought the wood might split. It didn’t matter. He was shaking too hard to get up again. After a minute, Scipio pressed against him, his nose cold against Jem’s hands, and Jem let out a shaky breath and patted Scipio’s flank. He was still holding the paper with the name Brigitte Berger Fitzpatrick. He folded it and placed it in his back pocket with the rental agreement that Tean had cosigned. Then he gathered up the rest of the trash, returned it to the bag, and tossed it all in the dumpster.

Scipio followed him upstairs, and Jem paused outside Tean’s apartment. A note had been slipped between the door and the frame. When Jem tugged it loose, a key fell onto the mat. Jem scooped it up and opened the note.

Hi, neighbor,

Can I borrow a cup of sugar?

Ammon, 4D

Jem bounced the key on his palm. He let Scipio into Tean’s apartment and pulled the door shut. Then he went up to the fourth floor and let himself into 4D. The kitchen counters were empty. The living room was empty. In the bedroom, he found an inflatable air mattress and an electric pump, a pillow, and a gym bag. Jem went back to the kitchen and opened the cabinets until he found the bottle of Everclear.

He left, locked 4D, and went downstairs. He put the key onto his keyring, considered Ammon’s note, and then tore it into tiny pieces. He pushed the pieces down the disposal, ran the water, and flicked the switch. He let it run for almost a full minute, turned it