Aaron froze as Quinn’s gaze sought him out and, unerringly, found him, just like it always had, across classrooms, and football fields, and streets, and parties, and now here. That meant something; Aaron knew it did. This thing between them had always been magnetic, whether they were pulled together or their poles had shifted and they were pushing hard away.
Aaron moved further along the fence line in the darkness, reaching a point where the wire flapped uselessly. It had been cut at some point, and nobody had fixed it. Who’d be dumb enough to break onto Jimmy MacGregor’s territory? Nobody who knew him.
Aaron crouched, gritting his teeth against the pain in his stump.
In the headlights of the cruiser, Uncle Will jerked his head at Quinn. “He’s a cop.”
Aaron saw the look that passed between the cousins, but if there had ever been any mercy in Jimmy MacGregor, he couldn’t show it now. Not in front of Uncle Will, and definitely not in front of the Skulls.
“That true?” one of the Skulls asked.
“I’m fucking dealing with it,” Jimmy said, and then he had his gun out and was pointing it at Quinn. “Get on your knees.”
“You gonna do it here?” Quinn asked, a corner of his mouth tugging back in a sneer. “Out in the open?”
Jimmy moved behind him and tugged the gun from Quinn’s waistband, tossing it aside. “Get on your fucking knees, Quinn.”
Quinn got on his knees in the dirt.
Aaron didn’t have a good shot. Uncle Will was blocking him—not that he gave a fuck about Uncle Will, but if he missed Jimmy, that gave Jimmy a chance to shoot Quinn.Fuck fuck fuck. The last time he’d been in a firefight, at least he’d had body armor and an M4 carbine. And backup that wasn’t a stoner friend from high school.
Fuck it. He had to take the shot.
And yet, before he did, a shot rang out from the other side of the yard, and Jimmy yelped and spun away.
Brody.
Aaron pushed his way through the hole in the fence, wincing when the wire squealed.
In front of the warehouse, there was a flurry of movement. The two Skulls had dived for the cover offered by Uncle Will’s cruiser, without realizing yet that while they were hidden from Brody’s view, they were still in Aaron’s. Aaron was still focused on Jimmy though. Jimmy’s gun dangled from his fingers, and blood stained his shirt and was dripping down his arm. And, on the ground in front of him Quinn was scrabbling away.
Uncle Will, no doubt alerted by the squeal of the fence, gripped Quinn by the back of the shirt and hauled him up. Jammed the barrel of his police-issue handgun into the side of his head. “Aaron?” he called into the darkness, turning slowly and keeping Quinn between him and Aaron, and the cruiser between him and Brody. “That you, kiddo?”
Aaron froze.
“If anyone takes another shot,” Uncle Will called, his voice steady, “then Quinn MacGregor is a dead man.”
“I’m a dead man anyway,” Quinn yelled. He had a grin on his face. It was the one that always warned Aaron he was going to do something reckless, like pull the fire alarm at school, or stand up in the back of a moving truck, or crash a lame party and kiss a boy he hardly knew. “Take the fucking shot!”
Aaron had never been able to say no to that reckless boy.
He took the shot.
* * * *
“Aaron?”
“Yeah?” Aaron scooched forward on his butt, leaves and dirt crunching under the seat of his jeans. He tucked Quinn’s long hair behind his ears, enjoying the scowl on Quinn’s face as Quinn pretended to hate it, but always let him do it anyway.
“I’d let you do just about anything to me, you know,” Quinn said.
“Yeah, I know.” Aaron felt a fluttering thrill in his gut. “Same.”
* * * *
Quinn hit the ground, and Aaron didn’t even look at him. He took his second shot, this one hitting Uncle Will square in the chest. Uncle Will spun on his feet, and slumped against his cruiser.
The Skulls moved at last, diving around the other side of the cruiser. Aaron heard two more shots, and hoped Brody was picking them off like tin cans on a fence.
