Joe walked away from the dry shelter of the umbrella. “He’s dyslexic, Edward,” he said flatly. Probably, he admitted to himself. He knew Cal wasn’t stupid, that he had a library of audiobooks on his phone, and he’d seen how Cal blocked out addresses when he needed to read them. “And at least he’s not a liar.”
“He’s a thief. Thieves lie, even if only by saying nothing. It’s part of the job.”
Joe turned around and stared at Edward through the veil of rain. “Is that how you did it?” he asked. “Held your tongue and never contradicted Harry? Lies by omission didn’t taste as bad?”
The umbrella was tilted into the rain and cast a shadow over Edward’s face that made it hard to read. Guilty or still a liar, Joe wondered.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Joe,” Edward said. His voicewas easier than his face, and the tight edge on it betrayed him.
“Did she call you?” Joe asked. “Or get in touch with Harry?”
There was a pause. “You have to talk to your dad. I think, maybe, Harry is ready to listen, but you need to hear it from him. I might have watched you grow up, but you’re not my son. This isn’t my business.”
“Neither is Cal,” Joe said coldly. “So remember that in future.You speak to him like that again, you’re the one who’ll be looking for a job.”
“You think your father will let that—”
Joe took two long steps forward, back under the umbrella and into Edward’s face. He could smell fried chicken and beer on his breath, see the heavy bags under Edward’s eyes.
“If he doesn’t, I’ll quit,” Joe snapped. “Either way, you’ll be out of my life.”
“Is he that good inbed?” Edward asked, his lip curled in distaste.
“Yeah,” Joe said, and punched him.
It wasn’t the best punch. Joe didn’t have enough room or enough practice to get his shoulder behind it, but his knuckles caught Edward on the jaw and knocked him back a step. That might have been surprise as much as impact.
Joe shook his hand, realized he didn’t have anything left to say, and walked away. Hishead was full of noise that meant nothing, and the tight, anxious aftertaste of lost control. He hunched his shoulder and water dripped under his collar and down his neck.
“Joe,” Edward yelled. Joe tightened his jaw and didn’t look back. “Joseph!”
The urgency in his voice caught in the nape of Joe’s neck like a hook and yanked him out of his temper. He started to turn, but before he could, somethinghit him. He lurched sideways and tripped off the pavement into the road, and his elbow and hip cracked hard against the tarmac as he went down. His face caught the curb and he saw stars. The car, however, barely missed him. It slowed for a second and then bounced back down into the road and screeched away down the street.
Edward lay on the pavement where the car had tossed him, his body awkwardlyangled and still. It was too dark and wet to see blood on the pavement, but it was dark and vivid against his skin.
“Edward!” Joe scrambled to his feet, awkward as his bruised leg didn’t want to work yet. He limped over to the still body and stooped down to grab Edward’s shoulders, although some vestige of common sense drew the line at any attempt to shake him awake. “Edward, open your eyes.Come on, Edward,speak to me.”
He wheezed instead, and one eye fluttered open, although it didn’t react as though he saw anything. Then it closed again. At least he was alive.
The doorman had run halfway down to them and stalled. “I’ve called the ambulance,” he yelled. “The police. They’re on the way.”
People had stopped to watch. “You shouldn’t move him,” a man said with authority. “He couldhave hurt his neck.”
“What happened?” someone asked
“Car lost control,” the authoritative man said. “He shoved his son out of the way but couldn’t dodge himself. Tragic.”
Joe remembered the impact of hard hands in his back and flinched with guilt.
Then Cal was there, his jacket stripped off and tucked under Edward’s head. “It’ll be all right,” he told Joe as the ambulance arrived. “C’mon.I’ll get you to the hospital.”
