The Raven King (All for the Game Book 2)

Kevin was not at all interested in meeting Nicky’s parents, but he was smart enough to know he didn’t have a say in the matter. Kevin couldn’t handle being alone, in part because he’d grown up attached to Riko’s side and swarmed by the Ravens, and in part because he was scared to death of getting caught without protection. Luckily for all of them Kevin stopped sniping about the road trip when he realized he could get something out of it.

When Neil started playing Exy in Arizona, Coach Hernandez loaned Neil one of the school’s extra racquets. It was a basic model, average net depth and with a light frame. Wymack provided Neil with two upgrades of the same model when he signed with the Foxhole Court. Light racquets were popular with strikers and most beginning players because they allowed for easier accuracy. If a striker only had a split-second to take the shot, he wanted a quick racquet he didn’t have to think about.

Kevin thought light racquets were a complete waste of Neil’s time. As soon as Neil passed all thirteen of Kevin’s Raven drills, Kevin started talking about moving Neil to a heavy racquet. Heavies were more popular with defense, since they were all about force and speed. Few offense players bothered with them, either not wanting the extra weight when trying to outstep defense or unable to perfect their aim with such an unwieldy stick. When mastered, though, heavy racquets could be devastating.

Kevin used a heavy with the Ravens, but he’d switched to a light racquet after his injury. Riko still used one. Neil was leery of switching racquets this late in the season, since it was bound to have a serious adjustment period, but Kevin turned a deaf ear to his arguments. Months of relentless night practices and Kevin’s harsh tutelage gave Neil a scary accuracy it would have taken him years to learn on his own. Now that he could aim in a hair-trigger glance, he needed a racquet that would put force behind his shots. It was time to add power to his speed, or so Kevin said.

The best place to find racquets in South Carolina was in Columbia at Exites. Larger sports stores around the state had sections for Exy gear, but Exites was the only store one hundred percent devoted to the sport. They handled everything from gear to custom uniforms to collectibles. Neil had been on their website from time to time, but seeing it in person sent a thrill down his spine. It was a four-storey shop on the far side of the capital from Eden’s Twilight, and the parking lot was comfortably crowded. Neil wasn’t sure what he liked more: the thought of everything waiting for him inside those walls, or the many cars that proved Exy’s popularity.

‘This is stupid,’ Aaron said for the fourth or fifth time since they’d left campus. ‘We just fixed the line-up. Now you’re going to screw us over again.’

Kevin ignored him. He’d argued the first time Aaron protested, and he wouldn’t waste his breath repeating himself. Neil was more tolerant of Aaron’s frustration thanks to his own nerves, but he knew there was no changing Kevin’s mind. He’d given Kevin control of his game and trusted Kevin to make the most of his potential. If Kevin thought he could handle this, Neil wouldn’t let him down. It might mean working twice as hard as he had up until now, but he’d meet Kevin’s expectations somehow.

‘This is the best week for me to switch,’ Neil said as he followed Andrew out of the car. ‘We’re up against JD on Friday. You guys can take them without any help from me.’

As the Foxes rose in the rankings, JD Campbell University fell. The JD Tornadoes had always sat near the bottom in the southeastern district but now they held the unenviable role of last-place players. They’d won barely half their games so far this season. Kevin could outscore them with one hand behind his back. The only question was whether or not Andrew would find them interesting enough to guard his goal against. Chances were he’d be so bored by their performance he wouldn’t even try.

JD was their last match in November, since next weekend they were off for Thanksgiving. There was one more game the first of December, and with that the Foxes’ fall season was over. They had a week off to study for their finals, a week of exams none of them were looking forward to, and an Exy Christmas banquet December 16^th. Thinking about it soured a little of Neil’s good mood. It felt like he’d just met Wymack yesterday. Now the season was a blink from being over. The Foxes were guaranteed a spot in spring championships, so there’d be more games in January, but Neil couldn’t bear thinking he was almost done.

He still didn’t know where he was going to spend his two-week Christmas break. He was betting the cousins weren’t going anywhere, since Kevin would be intolerable if they took him too far from the Foxhole Court. Hopefully Neil could stick around and get some practices in. He’d just have to figure out what excuse to give the team for not going home.

They passed a register on their way through the front door into Exites, and the cashier on duty spit out his coffee when he saw Kevin. Neil shied away from Kevin’s too-recognizable face and began looking around the store. The first floor was mostly clothes, with fan material taking up the front half and workout clothes in the back. Posters and displays showed local athletes modeling uniforms the store produced.

Neil rummaged through the fan gear for South Carolina’s major teams. There were only two Class I schools in the state, Palmetto State and USC Columbia, but there were also three Class II teams and the major leagues team, the Columbia Dragons. Major leagues Exy played during the summer, saving fall and spring for the more-popular college and professional teams. Neil watched their games but didn’t have any favorites. He saved all his love for the NCAA and national Court.

‘Come on,’ Nicky said, nudging Neil and jerking his chin in Kevin’s direction. ‘He’s going to be a while.’

Neil looked to see Kevin now talking to an older man with a nametag. He was dressed more professionally than the cashier, so Neil guessed he was the manager on duty. Neil glanced around in search of the security cameras. He wondered if the cashier hit a panic button to call the manager up front or if the man had seen Kevin’s face on his computer screens in back. Either way the lightning-quick response made Neil’s skin crawl. He nodded and followed Nicky to the stairs.

The second floor was mostly gear: court shoes, gear bags, and books. Revolving shelves with key chains, jewelry, and charms helped break up the sections. Aaron and Nicky went to investigate the bargain bins, but Andrew turned Neil to the next set of stairs.

‘Quickly now,’ Andrew encouraged him. ‘Let’s get this over with.’

‘That eager to get to Nicky’s place?’ Neil asked as he continued to the third floor.

‘We aren’t going to Nicky’s place,’ Andrew said, shaking a head at Neil’s ignorance. ‘It’s his parents’ house now, Neil. Nicky has no place there. Hasn’t in years. But the sooner we are done playing around here, the sooner we can go home. Columbia is boring on Sundays. You understand, of course.’

‘Since I’m not affected by blue laws, it doesn’t really matter to me,’ Neil said.

‘No team spirit,’ Andrew mocked him. ‘Alas. Oh, look.’

Neil didn’t have to be told twice. The walls of the entire third floor were lined with racquets. Neil spent enough time looking up everything Exy on the internet that he knew how many different kinds of racquets were available. Seeing them on a website and seeing them in person were completely different experiences, and for a moment Neil stood frozen at the top of the stairs.

To the left of the stairwell was a register. The woman standing there was threading a racquet’s net. She looked up at their arrival and chirped out a greeting. Andrew waved her off without looking. Neil thought he might have answered but he was too distracted by the racquets to really pay attention. The sound of her voice got him moving, and he slowly made his way around the room.

They passed the goalkeepers’ section first. Andrew kept his eyes forward but he reached out as they went and dragged his fingers over the racquets. Neil didn’t miss it, but he didn’t think Andrew would acknowledge it if he commented. He bit back every question he wanted to ask Andrew about his apathy and his upcoming sobriety. Curiosity helped shake him a little out of his daze, though, and he paid more attention to the signs. The racquets were arranged from heaviest to lightest, with the heavy racquets right after the goalkeepers’ section.

There were fifteen choices hanging from hooks. Most of them were plain, though placards showed what designs and colors were available for each model. They were arranged by manufacturer, then by weight, length, and available net depths. Racquets had a few inches of leeway to account for players’ different heights. Neil was stuck with the shortest racquets available. He had his mother to blame for that: the Hatfords had never been a tall bunch. He supposed he should be grateful he was at least taller than Andrew and Aaron were.

Still, knowing he needed a short racquet didn’t help him narrow his choices much. Every racquet he picked up was an uncomfortable weight in his hands, and Neil hadn’t been playing long enough to really understand the benefits of different net depths. He knew strikers tended to have deeper nets so they could carry the ball further, whereas dealers and defense had shallower nets for stealing and passing, but the incremental differences were a gray area of confusion. Neil picked up and put down every short racquet he could, stalling until Kevin showed up to tell him what to do.

‘They don’t feel right,’ he said.

‘A tear for your discomfort,’ Andrew said, completely unsympathetic.

‘And you said I have no team spirit,’ Neil muttered.

‘Never claimed I did either.’ Andrew grinned and shrugged. ‘You’re the fool who gave him your game. Reap what you sow or burn the field down, the choice is yours. Be smarter next time, would you?’

‘I’m not the only one,’ Neil said, putting the last racquet back and looking over at Andrew. ‘He told me why he stayed. He told me what he promised you. So how are you any different from me if you’re in it for Exy, too?’
‘Oh, Neil, it’s like this.’ Andrew leaned forward as if about to convey a secret and gestured between them. ‘He asks and you give—okay, okay, okay. He asks and I refuse, absolutely not. I’m waiting for him to give up. He has to walk away eventually.’

‘Do you really want him to? Haven’t enough people walked away from you already because of your condition? He can’t wait for you to be sober again. How many people can you say that about?’

‘It is very self-serving excitement,’ Andrew said. ‘He wants something. He stands to gain, or so he thinks.’

‘So what happens if he’s right? What happens if you wake up and you realize Exy really is exciting and worth your time? Will you lie just so you can keep refusing him, or will you give in and admit he’s won?’

Andrew laughed. ‘I never took you for a dreamer. You are so strange sometimes.’

‘I saw the way you played against Edgar Allan,’ Neil said. ‘For a moment it looked like it meant something to you.’
‘Oh, Neil.’

‘That’s not an answer.’

‘That wasn’t a question,’ Andrew said. ‘It was a misguided accusation.’

‘Here’s a real question: how have you survived this long when you’re so violently self-destructive?’

Andrew cocked his head to one side in a question. Neil didn’t know if Andrew was playing stupid to rile him or if Andrew really was oblivious. Either way it was frustrating. He wondered why no one else had caught on, or if people noticed and just didn’t care enough to say it. Now that Neil saw it, though, he couldn’t look past it. Anytime the Foxes mentioned Andrew’s upcoming sobriety or Andrew’s name popped up in write-ups on the team’s performance at games, the focus was on what a danger he was. People talked about his trial and how it saved them from Andrew. No one said what they were doing to save Andrew from himself.

‘You told me Cass would never hurt you and would have given you a good education, but you sabotaged your adoption. Officer Higgins came all the way here from the west coast to fix something from your past but you won’t help him. You left juvie and killed Aaron’s mother to protect him, but instead of fixing your relationship with him you keep him on a leash. You don’t want Nicky’s parents to hurt him, but you won’t let him into your family either. Kevin promised to invest in you but you won’t even try. So what is it? Are you afraid of your own happiness or do you honestly like being miserable all the time?’

‘Neil, look,’ Andrew said, and pointed up at his own face. ‘Do I look miserable?’

Neil wanted to tear that smile off Andrew’s face, but Andrew’s obnoxious response wasn’t entirely his fault. Neil was dealing with the smokescreen of Andrew’s medication. Neither of them could change that, but knowing why Andrew was being difficult didn’t make him less frustrating to deal with. All Neil could do was keep his temper in check. If Andrew got a rise from him the conversation was over. That was what Andrew wanted, so Neil wouldn’t give it to him.

‘You look drugged within an inch of your life,’ Neil said, ‘and when you’re not medicated you’re drinking and dusting. When they finally take your medicine away, who are you going to hurt, really?’

Andrew laughed. ‘I’m remembering why I don’t like you.’

‘I’m surprised you forgot.’

‘I didn’t,’ Andrew said. ‘I just got distracted for a moment there. I told her it was a mistake to let you stay, but she didn’t believe me. Now look. Oh, for once I don’t even want to bother with the ‘I told you so’. You ruin all my fun.’

‘Renee?’ Neil guessed.

‘Bee.’

Neil’s blood went cold. ‘What did you tell her about me?’

Andrew grinned at the look on Neil’s face. ‘Doctor-patient confidentiality, Neil! But don’t make such a scary face. I didn’t tell her your sad little story. We just talked about you. Critical difference, yes? I told her you’re more trouble than you’re worth. She was looking forward to meeting you, but she won’t tell me what she thinks of you. She can’t, you see. But I know she likes you. Bee has a thing for lost causes.’

‘I am not a lost cause.’
Denial was automatic and a waste of time. Andrew put his hand over Neil’s mouth to shut him up and said, ‘Liar. But that’s what makes you interesting. It’s also what makes you dangerous. I should know better by now. Maybe I’m not as smart as I thought I was. Should I be disappointed or amused?’

The perfect retort burned Neil’s tongue, but he kept quiet in case Andrew wasn’t done rambling. The answer was there, right out of reach, close enough Neil could feel it, but too far for him to make sense of. Maybe Andrew felt it too, because even in his drugged haze he knew to shut up. The smile he flashed Neil mocked them both at that near-miss. He withdrew completely, leaving just the memory of his heartbeat against Neil’s mouth, and spun away.

‘I’ll find Kevin. He’s too slow.’

Neil watched him go, then huffed in frustration and turned back toward the racquets.

Andrew didn’t return, but Kevin showed up a minute later. He glanced over the placards and pulled down five sticks for Neil to try.

‘There’s a practice court upstairs,’ Kevin said. ‘Let’s go.’

The cashier grabbed a bucket of balls and a key and led them through the door behind the register. The fourth floor was divided into two small practice courts and a narrow walkway. The girl unlocked one of the courts, so Neil set the racquets aside and pulled on the spare gear hanging from hooks on the wall. The weighted vest provided by Exites went over his clothes and reminded him a little of the Kevlar vest his mother gave him in Europe. He shoved those thoughts aside and tugged on gloves and a helmet. Kevin set the racquets and balls inside the court while he worked, then shut Neil in alone for practice swings.

Neil thought the racquets unwieldy just holding them. Taking shots with them was worse. The racquets were four to five times heavier than the ones Wymack gave him. They sat different in his hands and dragged on their swings. Despite that, the sound the balls made as they ricocheted off the wall sent a dark curl of power through his veins. Every rebound was a small boom. Neil could only imagine what it’d sound like when he could put real speed behind his swings again. His shots would be missiles aimed at the goal, and he’d leave goalkeepers startled in his wake.

He cycled through the racquets a few times, giving himself a couple rounds to adjust and then figuring out which one felt best. They were all awkward for now, but the more he used them, the more he could guess at which ones to reject. One was just too big; he’d never get used to the feel of it. Two he scratched off after the third round. The last two he couldn’t decide between, so he brought them out to Kevin. Kevin inspected them from head to butt, turning them this way and that and eyeing the slight curve of the heads.

Finally he showed one to the cashier. ‘We’ll take this model.’

Neil hung the gear up, collected balls and racquets, and waited for the girl to lock the court. They went back downstairs, and she had them stack the rejected racquets on a rack. She slid an order form across the counter to Neil. They needed to order the racquets in Palmetto colors. Exites would handle that and deliver them. Neil thought it was as easy as ticking a box and moving on, but the brand he’d gotten offered four different designs. Neil hesitated, then marked the simplest one and filled out the Foxhole Court’s address.

‘Do you have any in stock today?’ Kevin asked while Neil wrote. ‘We need a plain practice stick in size three.’

‘We should,’ she said. She typed a couple commands into her computer, eyed the screen, and disappeared to the storage room. Neil was done before she returned. She scanned the racquet, then typed in the finalized numbers from Neil’s form. Neil finally got a look at how much his racquets cost and almost choked on his next breath. He could get a ticket to England for the same amount.

‘That can’t be right,’ he said in French.

‘If you want the best, you pay for the best,’ Kevin said, completely unconcerned.

‘I don’t need three, then,’ Neil said. ‘Tell her to put this one back.’

‘The colored racquets will take a week,’ Kevin said. ‘We don’t have that long to waste. If Coach has a problem with the number he can take it up with me, but he should know how expensive I am by now. I will take you to the court tonight so you can warm up before tomorrow’s practices.’

Kevin handed over the team’s p-card to pay and signed the receipt with a neat scrawl. The card and receipt went into his wallet to file with Wymack later. The practice racquet he handed to Neil. Knowing what it cost made it feel a hundred times heavier in Neil’s hands. Kevin nodded at the cashier’s cheerful farewell and steered Neil toward the stairs.

They found Aaron and Nicky on the ground floor. Andrew was smoking on the curb outside. Neil brought his racquet into the backseat of the car with him, not wanting such an expensive thing crammed into the trunk. Andrew had either forgotten their argument upstairs or had his attitude reset again by his medicine, because he knotted his fingers through the strings of Neil’s new racquet and gave a curious tug. He said nothing, but he didn’t have to. Nicky peppered Kevin with a dozen questions about the racquet as he drove them away from Exites. Neil thought it genuine curiosity at first, but the growing edge to Nicky’s words was all nerves.

It wasn’t far to Nicky’s old house. The Hemmicks lived in a two-storey home in the suburbs of southern Columbia. Neil peered past Andrew out the window as Nicky parked at the curb. From the outside, the house looked perfect. The lawn was vibrant green and neatly trimmed, the cars in the driveway were new and clean, and the house was a pale blue with dark shutters. It looked like an ordinary middle-class home, which made the cousins’ reactions all the more surreal. Not even Andrew had anything to say when Nicky killed the engine.

Nicky drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. ‘Maybe this was a mistake.’

‘Oh, now he says it,’ Andrew said, and got out of the car. ‘Too late.’

Neil put his racquet aside and got out, but Andrew reached past him and snagged the stick as soon as Neil was out of the way. Andrew gave it an experimental twirl, judging the weight of it, then propped it against his shoulder and started for the other cars.

Nicky got out of the car like it was on fire. ‘Andrew, what are you doing?’

‘He’s got a really shiny car for a minister,’ Andrew said. ‘I’m going to humble it.’

Nicky ran after him and pulled the racquet from his hands. Andrew could have held onto it, but he was seemingly more amused by the terrified look on Nicky’s face. He laughed at Nicky’s obvious distress and made an exaggerated gesture for Nicky to lead the way. Nicky handed the racquet to Neil.

Neil and Kevin hung back as they crossed the yard. Aaron and Andrew waited on the walkway, standing side by side for the first time Neil could remember. Nicky stood silent and still on the porch for almost a full minute before ringing the doorbell. As soon as he did he retreated to the edge of the porch to wait. Andrew flashed Neil a grin over his shoulder, and Neil only shook his head in response.

Maria Hemmick answered the door. She was taller than Neil expected her to be, but he could see the resemblance between her and Nicky in an instant. Nicky jokingly blamed her when Neil first commented on how different Nicky looked from his cousins. Andrew and Aaron were pale and light-haired, whereas Nicky inherited his Mexican mother’s darker complexion. He had his mother’s eyes and the same curve to his mouth. Nicky had never smiled like this, though, so polite and small it was barely welcoming.

‘Why did you ring the doorbell?’ she asked in lieu of hello.

‘This isn’t my house anymore,’ Nicky reminded her.

She pursed her lips but didn’t argue. She stepped aside, so they moved out of the cold into the much warmer front hall. Maria closed the door behind them and turned to face her guests. Neil and Kevin were now the closest ones to her. There was no recognition in her stare when she considered them, but she nodded a greeting at them.

‘You must be Kevin and Neil,’ she said. ‘I’m Maria.’

Kevin put on one of his public-friendly smiles and said, ‘It’s nice to meet you.’

She looked to the twins next, but her gaze slipped past Aaron entirely. She smiled at Andrew and said, ‘Aaron, it’s been a long time.’

‘Aaron,’ Aaron answered.

Maria looked from Andrew’s smile to Aaron’s guarded expression and back again. ‘Oh, yes, of course,’ she said, but she sounded uncertain.

‘Andrew’s been on medication for almost three years now, Mom,’ Nicky said, with a hint of impatience.

Andrew cleared things up for her with the brightest, most unfriendly smile his drugs allowed him. ‘Hello, Maria. How very, very nice to see you again, I’m sure. Very interesting, you letting us back in your house and all. I thought you were going to file a restraining order against me. What happened, did you lose your nerve?’

‘Andrew,’ Nicky pleaded through clenched teeth.

Maria’s cheeks flushed. ‘You can leave your coats here.’ A narrow door to her right was a closet with a dozen-odd spare hangers. Maria watched them hang their coats up, then beckoned for them to follow. ‘Right this way.’

‘Can’t you even tell your own nephews—’ Nicky started, but the rest of the question was forgotten as they stepped into the kitchen and spotted Nicky’s father.

Luther Hemmick was a tall, rake-thin man with a severe face. He didn’t have much hair left but he kept a pepper beard trimmed short and neat. Even across the room Neil could see the tense set to his shoulders. Luther wasn’t looking forward to this reunion anymore than Nicky was. Neil hoped that Luther was uncomfortable because he intended to relax old prejudices.

Maria went straight to the stove to check on dinner, making herself busy and abandoning the conversation as quickly as she could. Luther didn’t look at her but took his time inspecting his guests. His expression didn’t change as he considered Neil and Kevin, and he didn’t linger long on them.

Neil didn’t think it his imagination that Luther stared longer at Andrew than he did his own son. It made him wonder if Luther suspected Andrew’s involvement in his sister’s death, and whether or not some part of Luther blamed him either way. Nicky said Andrew’s release from juvie drove Tilda deeper into her depression and drugs. Maybe Luther regretted ever finding out Andrew existed.

Neil distracted himself by looking around the room, from the small crosses and biblical quotes hanging on the walls to the catalogue-perfect kitchen. The square table only had two chairs by it, but the back door was open. The screen door was closed, but Neil could see through it to a deck. A larger table was back there and already set to accommodate all of them.

‘Nicky,’ Luther finally said. ‘Aaron, Andrew.’

Nicky had gone mute, but Aaron said, ‘Hey, Uncle Luther.’

Luther smiled, but it was faint. He looked at Neil and Kevin again. ‘I am Nicky’s father. You may call me Luther. Welcome to my home.’

‘Thank you for having us,’ Kevin said.

‘You can set that down in here,’ Luther said with a look at Neil’s racquet. He waited until Neil propped it against the wall, then motioned to the back door. ‘Please get comfortable. Dinner will only be another minute.’

Nicky took them to the back porch. It was enclosed with half walls and a thin mesh. Heat lamps were set at every corner. The mesh let some of the heat escape but also kept most of the November breeze out, so it was more comfortable out back than it was in the house.

The table had eight seats, three to each side and a seat at either end. Judging by the lacy handkerchief at one end, the Hemmicks would take the end seats and spread their guests out between them. Nicky took a middle seat on one side, keeping a chair between himself and either of his parents. Aaron sat between Nicky and Maria’s chair. Kevin and Neil stuck Andrew between them on the other side where they could keep an eye on him, Neil closer to Luther and Kevin by Maria.

It took Luther and Maria three trips to bring out all the food. As soon as they were seated, they bowed their heads. Neil didn’t realize what was happening until Luther started to pray. He tipped his head a little belatedly and sent Andrew a sideways glance. Andrew wasn’t even pretending to pray, even if on his other side Kevin was politely playing along. Andrew had an arm hooked around the back of his chair and drummed the tines of his fork against the tabletop in awful counterpoint to Luther’s words.

Luther had to be offended, but maybe he’d learned long ago not to beg respect from Andrew. When he finished, he straightened and began serving food from the closest platter. The others took that as a cue, but Neil had to wait on either Andrew or Luther to finish before he could get any food. Luther noticed his idleness and looked at him.

‘Are you religious?’

‘No,’ Neil said.

Luther gave him a minute to elaborate, but Neil gazed back in silence. Finally Luther frowned in disapproval and pressed, ‘Why not?’

‘I’d rather not get into it,’ Neil said. ‘I don’t want to start a fight.’ sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ (ꜰind)ɴʘvel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

‘That’s a first,’ Andrew said with a laugh. ‘You’re usually so opinionated, too.’

‘I don’t see how such a question constitutes as a fight,’ Luther said to Neil.

‘Is that really the question you want to start with, Dad?’ Nicky asked. ‘You don’t want to ask how we’ve been or how we’re doing at school or how the season is going? We had a game in Florida yesterday. We won, you know.’

‘Congratulations,’ Luther said automatically.

‘Yeah, you sound like you mean it,’ Nicky said, but he sounded more sad than annoyed. An uncomfortable silence followed, but Nicky broke it with a half-hearted, ‘When did you repaint the kitchen?’

‘Two years ago,’ Maria said. ‘The contractor goes to our church. It looks nice, doesn’t it?’ She waited for Nicky’s quiet agreement, looked to Luther for inspiration, then said, ‘So what are you studying, Nicholas?’

Some small part of Neil had assumed Nicky was exaggerating how estranged his family was, but Nicky was in his sophomore year and his parents still didn’t know what he was majoring in. Neil didn’t know if Maria was asking now because she was interested in getting to know her son again or if she was just trying to fill the silence. He hoped it was the former; the latter was too much to stomach. Neil’s mother might have been awful and violent at times, but she was fiercely devoted to him. They were two halves of a miserable whole, inseparable co-conspirators.

‘Marketing,’ Nicky said. ‘Erik’s cousin works for a PR firm in Stuttgart. She thinks she can get me in after graduation if I make the right grades.’

‘You’re going back to Germany?’ Maria shot her husband a startled look.

Nicky’s jaw tightened, but he looked his mother in the eye when he said, ‘Yes. Erik’s career is there. I wouldn’t ask him to leave it just for me, and I wouldn’t want him to, anyway. I loved living in Germany. It’s an amazing place. You should visit us sometime.’

‘Us,’ Maria said faintly. ‘You’re still…’

She couldn’t finish, so Nicky said, ‘Yes, we’re still together. I came back to take care of Andrew and Aaron, not because things went sour with Erik. I love him, okay? I always have and I always will. When are you going to get that?’

‘When will you accept that it is wrong?’ Luther asked. ‘Homosexuality is—’

‘Luther,’ Andrew said. That was all he said, but Luther sent him a wary glance.

‘I love him,’ Nicky insisted. ‘Doesn’t that mean anything to you? Why can’t you be happy for us? Why can’t you give him a chance?’

‘We cannot condone sin,’ Maria said.

‘You don’t have to love the sin,’ Nicky said, ‘but you’re supposed to forgive and love the sinner. Isn’t that what faith is about?’

‘Faith is following our Lord’s creed,’ Luther said.

‘But I can’t be that black and white,’ Nicky said piteously. ‘I won’t. Why did you call us down here if we’re just going to have the same old fight again?’

Luther was unmoved by Nicky’s heartbreak and said calmly, ‘Things have come to light recently that made us question our current situation. We have committed to repairing this family,’ he glanced at Maria, who nodded in happy encouragement, ‘but we understand it will be a long, uphill path. We brought you down here so we could decide on the first steps together.’

‘Enlighten us,’ Andrew said, leaning forward over his plate like he couldn’t wait for the answer. ‘If the first step isn’t tolerance, where does a pair of bigots begin in fixing a mess like this?’

Luther met Andrew’s stare with a calm one of his own. ‘With reparations for past mistakes. That is why you are here.’

‘Oh, no,’ Andrew said. ‘I am only here because Neil whined at me until I agreed to come along. Leave me out of this.’

Luther frowned. Across the table from him, Maria held up a calming hand and said, ‘Let’s eat. This kind of conversation is too difficult on an empty stomach. We’ll eat and try again, and then reward our efforts with dessert. There is pie in the oven. Apple, Nicholas. It used to be your favorite.’

It was a meager peace offering considering the harsh words it interrupted, but Nicky was desperate for any glimmer of hope. He nodded and tucked into his dinner. Silence reigned over the table for a while before Aaron finally broke it. He asked about people and places Neil didn’t recognize, likely people he’d known when Tilda first moved him here eight years ago. It was a neutral topic that was easy for Luther and Maria to keep up with, and it bought Nicky time to calm down.

Andrew got up toward the end of dinner and went inside. Luther pushed back his chair and followed to speak with Andrew in private. Neil heard the hum of their voices through the screen door but couldn’t make out their words. He strained his ears, listening for the sounds of violence. He thought he should go play referee, but his presence would kill their conversation. Luther had said he wanted to atone for the past. If he was apologizing, Andrew needed to hear it whether he wanted to or not.

Emphasis on the not, Neil decided, because Andrew’s voice was getting louder. Neil caught snatches of words, but Maria started speaking loudly to cover up the racket. Neil almost shushed her before he realized she was talking to Nicky about the season. Neil wanted to hear what Andrew was saying, but more than that he wanted Nicky to make things right with his mother. He kept quiet and kept his eyes on the back door. If Luther screamed in pain they’d hear it no matter how loud Nicky and Maria were.

Luther came back alone, looking worn and defeated but otherwise unharmed. Andrew didn’t follow him. Luther took his seat again and turned his attention on Aaron. Neil waited, counting seconds and then minutes for Andrew’s return. Andrew’s medicine would soon throttle his temper and reset his bad mood back to apathy. Neil would wait it out, then figure out what answers he needed to trade Andrew for insight into that kitchen conversation.

Maria went inside to check the pie. She came back looking pleased. ‘Five minutes, I think.’

Andrew still wasn’t back. Neil thought for a second Andrew took the car and left them, but Neil had never seen Andrew drive while drugged. He couldn’t; his medicine made him too restless and hyperaware to focus on the road. Then Neil thought of his racquet in the kitchen and Luther’s expensive car in the driveway.

Everyone looked at him when he stood, so Neil said, ‘I’ll clear the table.’

‘Kevin and I will help,’ Aaron said with a significant look at Nicky. ‘That’ll give you guys a few minutes to talk without us.’

Neil stacked plates as quickly as he could without breaking anything. Kevin had a free hand for the door, so he went in first, and Neil almost stepped on his heels in his hurry to follow. He looked for his racquet first and was relieved to find it right where he left it. On the heels of relief was confusion and alarm, because Andrew was nowhere in the kitchen.

‘Neil,’ Nicky called as Aaron was letting the door swing closed behind him. Neil set his armload of dishes on the inside table and opened the back door. ‘Is Andrew, uh—’ He rethought what he was going to say and switched to German. ‘Make sure Andrew isn’t breaking anything valuable, would you?’

‘That’s rude, Nicholas,’ Maria said. ‘Please use a language everyone can understand.’

‘I’ll find Andrew,’ Neil promised in English.

‘There is no need to worry,’ Maria said before Neil could duck inside again. ‘In fact, I think it’s promising he has been gone this long. He’ll come back when he’s finished speaking with Drake.’

Neil’s heart skipped a beat. ‘What?’

‘This dinner was not originally our idea,’ Luther said. ‘One of Andrew’s former foster brothers came to us for help. They parted on unfriendly terms years ago, and it’s been so long since they last spoke he’s afraid their relationship is irreparably damaged. It made us think of our own familial problems and we were inspired to reach out again.’

Luther’s voice was a buzz in Neil’s head, overlaid with Higgins’ insistent pleas for Andrew’s help. The investigation into Richard Spear was a dead end, Higgins said. Richard wasn’t the man Higgins wanted to charge. He wasn’t the one the Spears’ foster children were too afraid to implicate. Higgins had a new suspect in mind, but Andrew threw him out of South Carolina as soon as he heard Drake’s name.

‘Drake,’ Neil said. ‘Was his last name Spear? Was he Richard and Cass’ son?’

Luther looked hesitant. ‘Andrew has spoken to you about him?’

Neil let the door slam closed behind him and bolted across the kitchen. Andrew had been gone a while. Either Drake was dead or Andrew was in serious trouble. Neil didn’t know which one it was but he wasn’t going to this showdown empty-handed. He was good at picking fights, but he rarely won them. That didn’t mean he couldn’t stack the odds in his favor. He grabbed Aaron for backup because Aaron was closer than Kevin was and snatched his racquet on the way into the hall.

‘What the hell?’ Aaron asked, but Neil quieted him with a violent hiss.

He had to let go of Aaron at the stairs because he couldn’t haul Aaron up behind him and hope for him to be quiet. He half-expected Aaron to leave again now that he was released, but he’d piqued Aaron’s curiosity with his urgency. Neil went up the carpeted steps as quietly as he could. Aaron was near silent behind him. Neil guessed he’d spent enough time in this house to know which stairs creaked under a man’s body weight.

Every door on the second floor was open except one, and Neil heard the distant thump of something hitting the wall. He tried the knob, found it locked, and darted to the next door down to see what kind of wood the doors were made of. It was plywood-overlaid fiberboard with a hollow interior, easy enough to kick through.

Aaron had a hand up to pound on the door, so Neil shoved his racquet at Aaron. Aaron grabbed hold of it instinctively. Neil took a half-second to brace himself and drove the heel of his foot into the door as close to the knob as he could. Wood splintered around his shoe and his heel almost got caught on the jagged edges when he yanked it free.

‘Jesus fuck—’ Aaron started, startled, but Neil gave the door another savage kick.

This time the door popped open. Neil stumbled inside. He needed two steps to get his balance back and he looked up at the fight they’d burst in on.

Drake said something. Neil didn’t know what. He’d remember the words later, the angry demand to know what they were doing barging in like this. Right now Drake’s voice was just a roar in Neil’s ears, or maybe that sound was Neil’s world crashing down around him. He didn’t know.

He only had a second to take it in, but that second burned the awful details into him in a way he’d never forget. There was blood on Drake’s face in jagged lines, injuries wrought by desperate fingernails. The heavy length of his body, tattooed and muscular, kept Andrew pinned to the mattress with its weight alone. An arm across the back of Andrew’s neck forced his face ear-deep in a blood-splattered pillow. Drake’s other hand was up at the headboard, squeezed so tight around Andrew’s wrists Andrew’s fingers were ghostly white and bloodless. Neil saw too much blood and too much skin. He knew what he was seeing, knew what this meant, but couldn’t believe it yet. That didn’t stop him from leaping at Drake.

Aaron was faster.

He barreled past Neil almost hard enough to take Neil off his feet. Drake looked like he could take any of them in a fight, even with his pants around his ankles, but he was too tangled in the sheets to get up fast enough. Aaron wasn’t waiting for him to figure it out. He brought Neil’s racquet up and around in an underhanded swing so hard and fast air whistled through the tight strings. The head caught Drake in his temple, crushing one eye in its socket and burying deep in his skull with a wet crunch.

Drake’s blood sloshed from Aaron to the wall to the curtains pulled tightly closed over the nearby window. His body tumbled off the far side of the bed, dragging the sheets with it and hitting the ground with a meaty thud. The next crash was Neil’s racquet slipping from Aaron’s nerveless fingers to the floor. Neil couldn’t look at him, couldn’t look at Drake, couldn’t look at anything or anyone but Andrew.

Andrew wore only his shirt as he lay facedown on the mattress. He was covered in blood and a hundred shadows that would darken to terrible bruises. He held onto the headboard like his hands were glued to it, and he was laughing. It was muffled through the pillow but Neil heard it; the sound of it had the entire world tilting underneath his feet. He wanted to cover his ears and block it out, but he didn’t have time. The pounding of footsteps somewhere behind him said Kevin was running upstairs to investigate the commotion.

Neil dove forward and climbed onto the mattress at Andrew’s side. He reached over him, snagged the edge of the sheets, and gave a fierce yank to free it from Drake’s corpse. Neil only had the bloody sheet partway over Andrew’s body before Kevin reached them. Neil didn’t know how much Kevin saw. He couldn’t look back to see Kevin’s reaction, but the thud said Kevin recoiled from the sight in front of him and backed right into the doorframe.

A second later Kevin was gone again. Neil heard him race back downstairs so fast it was a miracle he didn’t fall and break something. He was going to get Nicky and Luther, Neil knew. He was going to call the police. Knowing doctors would be here soon helped ease a little of the lump in Neil’s throat, but his insides were still crumbling to dust.

‘Hey,’ Neil said, or thought he said. He didn’t recognize his own voice. ‘Andrew. Andrew, are you—’

He couldn’t ask if Andrew was okay. He wasn’t that cruel. He would beg Andrew to stop laughing if he could but every word he spoke threatened to set off his gag reflex. All he could do was hang on, fingers knotted in the sheet he’d gotten up to Andrew’s shoulders.

‘Got quiet all of a sudden,’ Andrew said, sounding surprised. He finally let go of the headboard and flexed his fingers as if working out a cramp. He planted his hands against the mattress and tried pushing himself upright. Halfway there he went still and started laughing again. ‘Oh, oh, that’s unpleasant. I am not a fan of this at all.’

Neil could feel Andrew trembling through the sheet, but Andrew’s body and mind were operating on two different wavelengths. Andrew’s grin was wide and savage as he mocked his own pain. Neil wanted to tell him to hold still, but Andrew finally got himself upright. The sheet threatened to slip off his shoulders, so Neil wrapped it tighter around him. Andrew let him do it with a bemused look on his face. Blood was smeared and half-dried in a line down his cheek to his chin from a gash at his temple.

Andrew saw Neil’s glance. ‘I think I’m concussed. Either that or this is a new side effect of my medication the doctors forgot to warn me about. If I throw up on you it is only half-intentional.’

Neil thought he might lose the battle with his own stomach first.

The strangled noise Aaron made was his best attempt at Andrew’s name. It was barely intelligible but it was enough. Andrew, who’d barely acknowledged Aaron’s existence in the entire time Neil had known them, looked immediately to his brother. Andrew snaked a hand out from under the sheet and curled his fingers in a demand. Aaron clambered onto the bed and reached for Andrew. Andrew tried moving out of his way, but that was finally too much for his stomach. Neil helped push him forward when he started choking.

‘Andrew,’ Aaron said, desperate and frightened. He held onto Andrew like he thought Andrew would disappear if he let go. ‘Andrew, I didn’t—he—’

Andrew spat a couple times and gasped for breath. ‘Quiet, quiet. Quiet. Look at me,’ he said, but it took him a while longer before he could sit up and face Aaron again. He pressed a hand to Aaron’s bloodied shirt. ‘It’s everywhere. What did he do?’

‘It’s not mine,’ Aaron said. ‘It’s not mine, it’s—Andrew, he—’

Andrew touched Aaron’s temple where he himself was injured as if he expected to find an identical injury there. ‘Did he touch you?’

‘What did he—’

Andrew knotted his fingers in Aaron’s hair and yanked to shut him up. ‘Answer me. I said, did he touch you?’

‘No,’ Aaron said.

‘I’m going to kill him,’ Andrew said.

‘He’s already dead,’ Neil said.

‘That explains the silence,’ Andrew said, ‘but that’s not who I meant. Look, we don’t even have to go anywhere. He’ll come right to us.’

He meant Luther, Neil realized. There were footsteps on the stairs again, too many sets to be just Kevin. It sounded like Kevin had brought an entire army with him, but maybe some of that pounding was just Neil’s heartbeat in his ears. Neil looked over his shoulder as Kevin and Nicky came through the doorway.

Nicky only needed a second to see all the blood, and he rushed for the bed with a horrified, ‘Oh my God.’

‘Don’t,’ Neil said, holding out a hand to ward him off.

Neil didn’t know if Nicky heard him or if he just realized there was no room for him to fit on the bed with them. He stopped as close to the bed as he could and reached for Andrew’s face with both hands. Andrew tried tilting back out of his reach, but he was too nauseous and unsteady to move fast enough. Nicky cradled Andrew’s face in his hands.

‘Andrew, what happened?’ Nicky asked, frantic. ‘Are you okay? Jesus, there’s so much blood. Are you—’

‘Nicky,’ Andrew said, ‘I need to talk to your father. You have two seconds to get out of the way.’

How Andrew saw Luther’s arrival with Nicky in his way, Neil wasn’t sure, but Luther was standing frozen only a couple feet inside the bedroom door. Nicky looked from Andrew to the wrecked sheets to the bleeding body on the floor. When he saw the state Drake was in, his expression crumpled. The noise he made didn’t sound human. Neil felt it like poison in his veins, but Andrew only laughed.

‘One,’ Andrew said.

‘Nicky,’ Neil said. ‘Get down.’

Nicky let go and sank to his knees beside the bed. It gave Andrew an unobstructed view of Luther over his head. Andrew already knew Luther was there, but he feigned surprise at the sight of the other man. The look that washed that away a second later was almost delighted. Neil might have believed it if not for the fierce grip Andrew still had on his brother’s hair.

‘Oh, Luther,’ Andrew said. ‘Oh, good. You made it. Saves me the trouble of going downstairs to find you. Hey, as long as you’re here, do you want to explain what Drake is doing here? I can’t wait to hear it. I hope it’s good.’

‘What in God’s—’ Luther started, voice hoarse.

‘Oh, no,’ Andrew interrupted him. ‘No. Don’t ask what. You know better. You know better,’ he said again, with heat. Andrew tilted forward as far as he dared. He started to sway, but Neil caught his shoulder to keep him from falling. ‘Looks like I was right about him after all. Or do you still think this is all a big misunderstanding? Go on, tell me again how I’m too unbalanced to understand normal brotherly affection and love. Tell me this is natural.’

Nicky looked like he’d been sucker punched. Aaron’s flinch was full body. Across the room Kevin was staring at Andrew like he’d seen a ghost. Andrew was oblivious to the effect his words had on any of them. He was smiling with vicious glee as he stared Luther down.

‘Hey, Luther,’ Andrew said. ‘Speaking of misunderstandings, am I remembering this wrong, or didn’t you promise me you would talk to Cass? You told me she wasn’t going to foster any more children after me, but apparently she’s had six more since I left juvie. Six, Luther. I’m no good at math but even I know that six is an awful lot higher than zero. How many do you think were in her house when Drake was home between deployments?

‘Now you let him into your house,’ Andrew said. ‘You put him under the same roof as your son, as my brother. After everything I did to keep them away from each other?’ Andrew gave Aaron’s hair another fierce tug, inadvertently yanking Aaron closer to him, and finally let go. ‘As soon as I get my balance back I am going to take you apart, Luther. This is the only warning you’re going to get.’

Aaron’s face was white with fear and horror. ‘This has happened before.’

He said it low, like he was afraid the words would make it real. Aaron stared at Andrew like he’d never seen Andrew before in his life. Andrew didn’t bother returning the look, so Aaron finally dragged his attention to Luther’s face.

‘This has happened before, and you knew about it. You knew what he’d done and you brought him here anyway.’

‘Is that true?’ Nicky asked, but he couldn’t look away from Andrew to face his father.

Luther opened his mouth, then closed it again, expression bleak. Aaron only gave him a couple seconds to answer before snapping. ‘Get out of here,’ he said, and when Luther didn’t move fast enough, screamed, ‘Get out of here!’

Andrew laughed as Luther retreated from the room. The door was too broken to close all the way, but Luther tugged it into place as best he could. Neil heard sirens in the distance. Andrew picked up on it a second later and glanced over his shoulder. He thought for a moment, then gave an expansive shrug and let go of Aaron. He peeled his armbands off one at a time and dropped them in Neil’s lap.

He said something, but Neil didn’t hear him. The pale shade of scarred skin was too familiar and too startling for him to not react. Neil grabbed hold of Andrew’s wrist. He started to turn Andrew’s arm over, sure he’d imagined things, but Andrew clamped his free hand down on Neil’s forearm.

‘Andrew,’ Neil started.

‘Just so we’re clear, I’ll kill you.’

The iron in his grip was at complete odds with the drugged smile on his face. Andrew wasn’t bluffing. If Neil didn’t let go fast enough Andrew would break his arm. Neil loosened his grip but spread his fingers as he did so. He felt the slight dip and bump of destroyed skin beneath his fingertips and felt his stomach drop. Andrew wrenched Neil’s hand off his arm, but he did it in a way that kept his bared forearm turned toward himself.

‘Get rid of those,’ Andrew said. ‘Pigs don’t like it when people like me carry weapons.’

Neil didn’t have pockets deep enough to hide Andrew’s discarded arm bands, so he leaned over and stuffed them between the box spring and the frame. He looked from Aaron to Nicky, but neither of them had noticed that exchange. Aaron was watching the door like he thought Luther might come back. Nicky was staring at Andrew’s face, but his shuttered expression said he was a thousand miles away from all of this. They were Andrew’s family but they were as oblivious as everyone else when it came to Andrew.

‘Andrew,’ Neil said again.

‘Do us a favor,’ Andrew said. ‘Let’s no one talk for a while.’

There was nothing else Neil could do but wait for the ambulance and police to arrive.