Looks like I haven’t been so good at hiding myself this term.
“Where were you supposed to meet up with your dad, McKinnon? I can’t wait any longer.”
“C’mon, I’ll lead you to him, but you have to tell me congratulations.”
Luke will be pissed that he moved, but the further away that dot gets, the more my desperation ratchets. Not a good position to be in. I need to calm down.
“I don’t have the time for?—”
He crosses his arms, the skin of his swollen cheek looking like it’s about to burst.
“Congratulations, McKinnon. Or should I be calling you VanCourt?”
“Hmmm, now there’s a pickle to?—”
“Move.”
“Alright, alright.”
He’s unsteady, maybe he shouldn’t be moving around, but he leads the way. We walk all the way up, through the dark halls of North Point, past the grand stone arches, and to the parking lot. I recognize Shae McKinnon, but not the man he’s standing with, the one who’s nattering at him. Who I don’t see is Luke.
“You need to sit,” he says. “Your leg.”
Shae’s on crutches. “I’ll sit when I see my son.”
“Hi, Dad.” McKinnon waves.
“Fucking hell, you scared me, kid. C’mere.”
They embrace. I can barely contain my impatience, so I clear my throat.
“Right. Was Luke here?”
Shae frowns. “We haven’t seen him. But we have his car keys. They fell out of his pocket when he came to get you.”
Ace rounds on me. “Okay, what’s going on? First, Ryan, now Luke?”
“McKinnon,” I warn. I don’t want fucking Shae McKinnon involved in this. He’s far too pure for this one. But he’s not the only one concerned about Luke. My skin’s prickling, and I don’t like the cloak of impending doom that’s falling. That’s it. After this, I’m chipping Luke, too, and anyone else I deem needs chipping. “I’ll take those.”
I move to snatch the keys from Shae, but Ace is closer. “I’m coming with you.”
“No way in hell that’s happening.”
“What’s going on?” Shae asks, looking between Ace and me.
“Oh, just?—”
“Okay, McKinnon.”
Conniving little brat.
Telling Ace some of what was going on didn’t deter him, and he refused to leave, even though he’s so not dressed for a reconnaissance mission. He’s removed his hockey pads, but he’s still in his long johns and jersey, smelling like the inside of a hockey bag. I have to drive with the windows down. Under any other circumstances, I would have knocked him out and left him where someone would find him, but he might have a concussion, and I don’t know what knocking him out with a concussion would do to him. If anything, I now have the responsibility of looking after him along with whatever awaits me wherever we’re going.
Now I hope Henry and Clarence also somehow took Luke, too, or I’ve got McKinnon here for nothing. Either way, Luke is going to kill me. I’m headed into danger with no backup, no weapons, and no plan. The chances I’ll be able to keep enough of an eye out for McKinnon while I’m collecting Ryan are low. But it’s one hundred percent his fault for being a fucking brat and coercing me into this.
If he dies, that’s Darwinism at work.
McKinnon tries to fiddle with the music. “Road trip!” he crows.
