Page 2 of Wanted

"Hey, so, I was wondering…" he began.

I inwardly cringed, just knowing what was next. Could I start the car and hightail it out there fast enough?WouldI?

Then, he stunned me with a nervous slur of, "Would you like to grab a coffee after my shift?"

I blinked. "Thanks, but I have a job interview today." This was it? Really?

His smile faltered. "Oh, right. Well, good luck."

Before he could ask for my number, I rolled up my window, waved, and then drove off.

A quick glance in the rearview mirror revealed him standing there, a bit forlorn. He watched my car leave the lot before he turned back toward the store.

“Your lucky day, bud,” I muttered under my breath.

Boys like troubled girls before they know what kind of trouble they're really in for. I’d just saved him a shit ton of heartache.

My phone binged just as I pulled up to the curb and parked in front of my house. I already knew who it was, and a blanket of depression dropped over me as I checked the messages, proving myself right.

Are you ready?

With shaking hands,I replied.

Yes.

Good.

I sat there,waiting for the three dots to blink, signaling a reply, but when nothing appeared on the tiny screen, I felt the anger beginning to bubble. That was it? That was all I was going to get? I mentally screamed a few choice words at the sender of the texts, then grabbed my purse and headed into the house.

I heard the sound of an argument even before I set foot on the cracked concrete steps. One kick of the screen door later, I was in the living room, tense and ready.

My father, a tall brute of a man with beady eyes, a rounded stomach fed by liquor, and meaty fists, towered over my little brother, wielding a broken beer bottle like a knife.

"You do as you're told,” he was shouting. “Or I’ll shove this so far up your ass you'll be eating glass and shit for aweek.”

My little brother stood there, trembling, with his thin forearm protecting his face. At fourteen, he was small for his age and much preferred reading books to fighting.

As my father lurched forward to backhand my brother, I shoved Jeremy aside and stepped between them.

The blow jarred my teeth and pain exploded across my cheekbone. If there weren’t any broken bones, I’d be shocked. I choked, clutching my face as tears stung my eyes.

My dad's eyes widened. "What are you doing, you little slut?” He snarled, sending spittle straight at me. “You’re nothing but a worthless whore." He stumbled to the couch to grab another beer.

Now was my chance, before he could wind himself up for another strike, a strike I sure as hell wasn’t going to be around to take. I grabbed Jeremy by the arm and dragged him out of the room to our shared bedroom at the end of the hall before that blow could land.

Once locked in the safety of our shared bedroom, I checked him over quickly. "Are you okay? Did he hurt you?"

Jeremy shook his head, but tears glistened in his large eyes.

My heart broke and I pulled him close, hugging him tight. "I'll get us out of this. I promise." And I would get us out, by any means necessary, even if it involved me dying.

My little brother’s shoulders shook in mute sobs, silent as they must be in this house. We are the children of the silent pain. I grimaced. If nothing else, Children of the Silent Pain would be a cool band name.

When he calmed down, I released him and wiped his face with my sleeve. "I have to go, but you should climb out the window and stay at Rick's tonight. Go to school with him in the morning."

Jeremy’s caramel eyes widened. "But won't you get in trouble if I leave?"

“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself,” I said. We are twelve years apart, and I only came back to this hell hole to rescue him. Well… mostly for him. I had a plan. Kind of. I shoved him toward the window. “Now, go!"