“Rod, don’t!” Jules heard Sadie shouting.
Hobbit chimed in. “Rod, give it to me!” as still atop Jules, Trent stopped fighting. He just completely froze.
Because, oh, shit, Rod was standing there, just a few feet away, gun held in a double-handed grip, that deadly little barrel aimed directly at Trent’s head.
“Get out of the way, Cassidy, so I can send this motherfucker to hell,” Rod said, and the look on his face was one Jules would remember for the rest of his life. He was dead serious.
“Oh, Rod, no.” Jules scrambled out from beneath Trent, but instead of moving away, he put himself as solidly as he could between the kid and the gun, even though his heart was racing. Staring into that barrel was super un-fun. “Let’s notmake things worse,” he told Rod, trying to keep his voice as even and as calm as possible.
He looked behind Rod where Hobbit was standing, his hands outstretched. Sadie was beside him. “Please, Rod,” she whispered.
“Give that to Kevin,” Jules said as briskly as he could manage. “He knows how to handle guns safely. We really don’t want anyone else getting hurt.”
“Yeah, we kinda do,” Rod countered.
“You’re aiming at Jules,” Hobbit’s voice was tight. “One slip of your finger and youwillkill him.”
“Nah, he’s not going to do that,” Jules said, but Rod spoke over him. “Then he should get the fuck out of the way.”
“Oof. Yeah, no, sorry, I can’t,” Jules said. “See, you’ve become a good friend, I know that might seem a little crazy, but... I really like you, Rod, and I’m not gonna let you ruin your life.”
Belle was there, back a bit further from Hobbit, her arm around Meg who was crying. Shelly was there, too, video camera still flashing its red-record light. Behind them was—whoa—the entire party-going contingent from the high school. They’d come pouring out of the house to see what the hell was going on.
Okay.
Hello, captive audience.
Jules took a deep breath and tried to knock them back into the agreed-upon plan. Get evidence that would prove Trent’s guilt, check; apprehend and detain the rapist, check; then call for backup. “Who’s calling Mr. Harrison and my mom?” He raised his voice so it would carry to everyone watching. “I promised her we’d call her, too.”
“Tom’s inside, doing that,” Belle picked up on Jules’sneed for volume, so she reported this in her usual crystal-clear stage voice. “Topher and Joey are helping him guard the evidence.”
“Good,” Jules said as he looked back at Rod. “Come on, Rod. I don’t want to have to visit you in prison. Besides, this piece of shit’s not worth your life. He’s gonna go to jail for raping all those girls, we’re gonna make sure of that. And if he doesn’t—if he slips through some fucked-up loophole? Well, I personally will help you hunt him down and let you have at him.” He glanced out over the crowd. “Please raise your hand if you’ll help.”
But Rod was unswerving as behind him, Hobbit’s hand went up, with Sadie, Belle, Meg and Shelly close behind.
“Rod,” Jules said quietly. “Point that thing down at the ground and then turn and look behind you.” He glanced over his shoulder to where Trent was crying. “Hey, motherfucker, you might want to take a look at this too.”
Out in the street and on Carter’s front lawn, the entire soccer team—including Trent’s two friends from Ottersfield—had their hands up. And it was spreading, too—faster and faster now. Across the crowd, hands were going up as the explanation of exactly what Trent had done rippled through.
Trent was sniveling, and, yeah, he’d wet himself—no doubt because he fully believed Rod was going to kill him with his own gun. No doubt because he’d been fully prepared and willing to use it on them.
“Thank you,” Jules heard Hobbit say, and he looked back to see that, yes, thank God, Rod surrendered the gun to Hobbit.
Sadie and Meg both pulled Rod in for a very tight hug—as Jules met Hobbit’s eyes and managed a smile. Jesus, this could’ve been bad. But God, they did it. It was over.
But oh crap, Jules’s nose was bleeding. He wiped his facewith the bottom of his shirt, wincing because, damn, it wasn’t just bleeding—it hurt.
Unfortunately, without the specter of instant death hanging over him, Trent got surly. “I didn’t do anything wrong!”
Oh, no. No, no.
Belle got loud. “It’s all on tape, asshole.”
But it was Hobbit, still holding that gun, who made the biggest impact by locking eyes with Trent and quietly saying, “You’re not the only one who knows the combination to their father’s gun locker,” as he expertly ejected the clip and cleared the chamber.
Belle held out her hand to pull Jules to his feet. There were enough other kids standing nearby, legs planted and arms folded across their chests, ready to grab Trent if he tried to run again.
Trent was less fierce now—Hobbit had delivered a hefty dose of serious badass—but he was still surly. “Is that a threat?
