Page 4 of Slick Trip

That night, I wrote in my diary that his eyes looked like storm clouds before rain and that standing under his scrutiny was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to me. I wrote that he could be a nightmare to someone but never to me. Because to me, he was a dream.

Yeah, I wrote a lot of stupid shit in my diary about Jon Beckett. I even described the way he lit his cigarette. How I craved one—not because I cared about smoking, but because I wanted him to lean in close enough to light it for me. I wanted us to share a cigarette and our lives.

In an embarrassingly squeaky voice, I asked if he was their leader. His smirk made my legs wobble.

“I’m no one’s leader,” he said, then started down the sidewalk. I stared after him, my heart beating wildly, as I tried to figure out if I was allowed to walk with him. And then he slowed his pace for me, and I followed him, and for the next three years, I would’ve followed Jon Beckett to hell and back if he’d asked me to.

2

The Favor

JON

“He was going to what now?”

I was an atheist, but here I was, praying I’d heard Jack wrong. My best friend just told me his little brother had been planning a little road trip.

By himself.

“Are you insane?” I fixed Jack with a glare. “No one attracts trouble like Cooper. He’d follow a serial killer into a dark alleyway out of curiosity.”

“I know,” Jack said, grimacing. “But technically, he’s an adult.”

That was true. Technically.

“Anyway, Mom’s going to tell him today he can’t go by himself after all. He’s going to be so pissed,” Jack continued. “It’s a bummer that I can’t drop my internship, because it would’ve been nice to see Grandpa.” Jack offered me that easy-going smile he used when he wanted to be extra charming.

Well, I wasn’t charmed. I was livid. I already knew where this conversation was heading and how it was going to end.

“So, Mom and I were wondering if you could go? I know it’s not ideal, and I’m sorry for the short notice . . . but you’re your own boss, right?”

Yes, I was. I was a self-taught game designer, but that wouldn’t help in the middle of a Nebraska cornfield when Cooper decided to stab me to death. I rubbed the back of my neck. My best friend had no idea what he was asking. He thought he was asking for a favor—keeping his little brother safe during a road trip from Illinois to California. What he was actually asking was for me to spend a week trapped in a car with the only person who had ever made me lose control.

“I’m sure Grandpa will give you a fee too,” Jack added, his tone turning hopeful. “I mean, he’s giving Cooper a thousand dollars, but we both know he won’t share. At least not without a fight.”

“I’m not taking a cent of his money,” I snapped.

“The start-up going that well?” Jack asked, looking genuinely impressed. “That’s awesome!”

I shrugged. Maybe it was awesome, but it was also irrelevant. Even if I was down to my last dollar, I wouldn’t take a dime from Cooper.

“If you can’t make it, I could maybe ask around and see if someone will volunteer,” Jack mused, and my fists clenched. No fucking way would I let some idiot with a hero complex go anywhere near Cooper.

My friend tilted his head, waiting. He was leaning against the counter in my kitchen, radiating that specific brand of Taylor family confidence and functional family bullshit. I’d known Jack for five years. We met through online gaming before realizing we lived in the same city. He was the brother I’d chosen, and I was happy I had him in my corner. When I used my first paycheck from a crappy construction job to buy a secondhand computer, he let me store it in his room so I wouldn’t have to worry about addicts stealing my gear the second I stepped out of the trailer. Jack had also helped me move into this place. It wasn’t much—one bedroom, a small kitchen, an annoyingly tiny bathroom—but I’d gotten out of the trailer park with money I’d earned.

Cooper hadn’t seen my apartment—and why the fuck was I even thinking about that? It was alarming how easily I could picture the little brat here, hopping onto my counter like a cat, stealing my coffee, demanding attention as if it belonged to him. Well, that was never going to happen, and if I missed hearing his chaotic cackle, that just served me right.

Jack was still waiting for my reply. If he knew what had happened between his little brother and me, he wouldn’t be asking. He’d punch me in the mouth. I almost wished he would. That kind of pain I was well used to.

“Are you sure you can’t take time off?” I asked.

Jack smiled sheepishly. “I’m sure. Anyway, there aren’t many people who can handle Cooper, but you’ve always managed.”

I flinched. Because yeah, I’d handled Cooper. That was the whole fucking problem. It was the reason he’d spent the last year pretending I didn’t exist anymore. There’d been no provoking. No smirks, pranks, nothing.

And fuck if it didn’t hurt. Like I lost a limb I didn’t even know I’d had. And fuck if I’d ever admit that to anyone.

“I know he can be a brat,” Jack said, and an irrational spike of anger surged through me. He wasn’t wrong, but still. “But this trip is everything to him. He’ll be on his best behavior, I swear. Did you know he’s saving for a car?”