“There’s another way.” He rounds the corner and points up at a square window just out of his reach. It’s so streaked with dust it’s almost fogged. “See that? The lock on it was always broken. I guarantee Earl hasn’t fixed it.” Ever glances down. “I’m going to lift you, and then I need you to pound on it until it pops open.”
“Me?”
He grins his devil’s grin. “It’s an adventure, Ruthie. LikeThe Count of Monte Cristo. You’ve gotta get your hands dirty.”
“Monte Cristo’s a revenge story,” I mutter, but let Ever circle his hands around my waist, his grip steady and cool through the fabric of my shirt.
“Ready?”
Thrill sparks in my chest. I nod, and he lifts me until I’m face-to-face with the window.
“You’re going to have to hit it hard,” he warns, his words tickling my thigh.
I prod at the window, trying to jimmy it open, but it doesn’t budge.
“Hard,” he insists, and I fist my hands and start to pound.
“Harder.”
My heart takes off. I batter the window like it’s a locked doorimprisoning me inside a burning house. My fists ache but I don’t stop, and the truth is, it feels good to hit something. Suddenly the window wrenches inward and my fists sail through empty air.
Ever drops me unceremoniously and inspects my hand. “Good work. No bruising. Now this time, I need you to climb inside and unlock the back door.”
I’m still trying to steady my breathing when his hands circle my waist again, the feeling familiar from climbing trees together, and when he lifts me, I grip the windowsill like it’s a branch, haul myself up, and—
Tumble inside, straight to the concrete floor. I land with a crack I can feel in every bone.
“You okay?” Ever’s voice is muted from outside. “Sounds like you knocked over something heavy.”
“Gee, thanks,” I mutter, peeling myself off the floor and limping to unlock the back door. My bottom lip throbs. I dart my tongue and taste blood.
Ever’s standing outside the door when I open it. He zeros in on my lip. “You’re bleeding.”
“I know.” I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. “I managed to trip through the window.”
Ever musses my hair so it falls over my eyes and I can’t see. “You’re mad at me.”
I bat his hand away. “Let’s just find the safe and get out of here.”
He salutes me, unnervingly playful given we’re in the middle of a break-in, and turns to scan the garage. It’s small, lit dimly by dusk light filtering in through the windows, and in a state of disarray I remember from the few times I passed it when it still belonged to Mr. Duncan. It smells almost dizzyingly of gasoline.
The sound of an engine revving cuts through the silence. Ever claps a hand over my mouth the second I open it, and we wait, bodies tensed,as the sound from the car grows louder, and then starts to fade. After a few seconds, the only thing I can hear is my heart drumming in my ears.
Ever withdraws his hand. “Just a random person,” he says, but his voice is shaky. “Come on. The safe used to be over here.” He strides to a low gunmetal-gray cabinet hiding in the corner of the garage. “See—IknewEarl’d keep it. God bless stingy Southern bastards.”
I peer over his shoulder. The cabinet door opens to reveal a silver and black safe, rectangular and roughly two feet tall, with an electronic keypad and a large silver handle. Ever hauls it out of the cabinet and I take a few steps back, giving him room.
“You remember your dad’s combination?”
“No.” He says it nonchalantly, moving to a nearby table to search through the tools.
“Then how do you think you’re getting in there?”
“With these.” Ever turns, holding a hammer and tire iron. He’s got them raised triumphantly, much the way he once held a dead copperhead. “There are subtler ways, but they’d take too much time. With these I don’t need two minutes.”
I shake my head. “There’s no way.”
“Watch.”
