I glance over my shoulder in time to see him shoving his hand through his hair and staring after me, a look of disconcertion on his face.
I turn away and go through the gate.
I don’t know why I reacted like that. Was it seeing him with all those guns? Or was it seeing him,period?
Every time we say goodbye—or more accurately,don’tsay goodbye—I figure it’ll be the last time, but then there he is again, making me feel all edgy and off-kilter.
I haven’t gone more than a couple hundred feet or so when I hear a car crawling up behind me. It begins to go past, then slows.
“You okay?” Anders asks.
I nearly jump out of my skin at the unexpectedly close proximity of his voice. It slipped my mind that the driver’s side is on the left in America—I was anticipating him calling across from the other side of the car.
“You aretense,” he says from literally right beside me.
“You think?” I reply sarcastically, glancing at him and immediately pulling my gaze away again. I should watch where I’m going.
“You know, you’re starting to give me a complex.” He lifts up his left arm and sniffs his armpit, then rests his elbow on the window ledge.
Narrowing my eyes, I ask him outright, “Why do you have all those guns?”
He scratches his chin and stares at the road. “Farmers have guns.” He sounds resigned. “Peoplehave guns.”
“I know they do, but why doyouhave so many in the boot of your car?”
“I’m taking them home with me.”
“To Indianapolis?”
“Yep.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m—” he starts as though he’s going to tell me, but his sentence breaks off. “It’s complicated,” he says at last.
“Are you worried about Jonas?”
The car comes to a stop, but it takes my brain a moment to catch up, so I have to backtrack a couple of paces.
“Why do you say that?” He seems hyperalert as he stares at me through the open window, and I feel jittery as I return his gaze, noticing once more that strange fleck of orangey-brown in his eye. No,amber.
“It’s only a feeling I had,” I say hastily. “But your mum seemed concerned about him during the storm and your dad was pretty upset when he went missing. Obviously, that’s all understandable, considering what was going on, but I couldn’t help but wonder if everything was all right with him.”
He sighs. “My brother hasn’t been... Well, he hasn’t been himself lately,” he admits heavily. “My mom called me because she was worried.”
Sothat’swhy he came home during racing season: Jonas.
I ask, very tentatively, “Are you scared he might hurt himself?”
Is that why he’s removing the guns?
“I hope not. But it’s not a risk I’m willing to take.” He swallows and stares out the windscreen, suddenly looking vulnerable. “It feels wrong leaving.”
“You can’t stay?” I ask gently, my heart going out to him.
“Not if I want to keep my job.”
“I’m so sorry, Anders.” I instinctively press my hand to his elbow.
