Page 23 of Intrepid

I frowned and looked back at Eli. “Your mom’s boss?”

“He ain’t her boss. He’s a little bitch who needs to be slapped for the way he talks to my mom.”

Yeah, well, I heard you haven’t been Mister Charming yourself. “Like what?”

“She might clean their fucking house, but he isn’t better than us. Piece of shit acts like he’s some god we all have to worship.” He sucked in another drag and flicked the cigarette off to the side. “Wish I could come into some money, so she’d never have to listen to that prick bark out orders again.”

“You wouldn’t see his daughter if she did. Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, you know.”

“Nah, she ain’t like her old man.” His cheeks bubbled with a smile. “She’s smart. Funny. Talks to me like I’m a somebody, you know? Like I matter.”

“Probably feels sorry for you.”

Toying with the lighter, he pulled his knees in and shook his head. “No. She’s something special.”

“Hey, y-y-you g-g-guys wanna see s-s-s-something?”

At the disembodied voice, I swung my attention toward a kid in a stained white T-shirt and dirty jeans walking toward us. He looked to be sixteen, though it was hard to tell, with the dirt on his face.

Eli and I slid down off the car, backing ourselves away.

“Fuck off, man.” Eli reached toward the pocketknife I knew he always carried in his back pocket. His mom had given it to him for Christmas the year before, after realizing she couldn’t keep Eli from venturing off into the abandoned buildings.

“Th-th-there’s a d-d-dead d-d-dog ‘cross the way. All decayed an’ sh-sh-shit.” The kid stuffed his hands in his pockets and jerked his head toward the opposite entrance. “It’s s-s-s-sick.”

“No thanks.” Eli’s shoulders slouched in a more relaxed state, and he didn’t bother to take out his knife, just hopped back onto the car and lit up another cigarette. “Buzz off.”

I didn’t relax so easily, my muscles still poised in defense.

“C-c-can I have one of your s-s-s-smokes?”

“Man, I said buzz off.”

The shift of the kid’s eyes caught my attention, telling me something wasn’t right about him.

“I-I-I can t-t-take you to my h-h-house and sh-sh-show you something. If y-y-you want.”

“Are you fucking retarded? Get the hell out of here!” The irritation bled through Eli’s voice, and he lifted a stone, hurling it toward the kid’s feet. “Go!”

“Y-y-you ever t-t-try smokin’ w-w-w-weed?”

Reaching for another rock, Eli paused, tipping his head.

“Go on,” I said, attempting to stifle the intrigue on Eli’s face. “He said get out. We’re not interested.”

“Where is it?” Ignoring me, Eli got to his feet. “You got some on you?”

I kicked my head to the side a little. “Forget it. Let’s just get the hell out of here.”

“Hell, no,” Eli muttered. “You know how much that shit’s worth on the streets?” He leaned in, lowering his voice even more. “We can take this kid. Easily.”

“M-m-my daddy, he has a b-b-b-box. A whole b-b-box of it at home. Better than s-s-s-s-smokes.”

“Your daddy?” Eli nudged my arm and snorted. “He home?”

The kid shook his head at the same time I shook mine.

“Fuck that. I’m not going back to this guy’s house. We don’t even know him.”