“Then Kellan can sit out,” I snap.
“That’s what I told him. But you know him.” He sighs. “He thinks people will look for him.”
“That’s the point.” You kill a mouse and leave it in the open, then other rodents come out to feed on it. It’s called bait. I go to step around him to head into the house, but his hand shoots out and lands on my wet chest, stopping me.
“You sure you’re ready, Cole?” His eyes go to the scar on my shoulder. “I’m not doubting your plan. It’s solid. But I want to make sure you can execute it.”
I nod. “We’ve waited long enough.”
AUSTIN
I sit in the back, staring out the window of the white Escalade SUV. It’s decked out with all the amenities required by a rich person. Heated leather seats and steering wheel. TV screens in the dash and headrests. Oversized tires with some shiny chrome wheels. Blacked-out windows. A booming stereo system. The interior is a beige color and smells of leather. Things I’ve never had before. I never needed them.
He thinks they’ll intimidate me. He’s wrong.
It’s been ten years since he saw me last. Four since I’ve spoken to him on the phone. I just need to get through the next four months and then I’m out after graduation. In two months, I’ll be eighteen and won’t have to live with either one of my parents.
Raylan slows down, veering onto the wide shoulder before turning down a private road. The trees lining the narrow drive look like claws as the branches nearly scrape the sides and top of the SUV.
“He’s a good man,” he says, breaking the silence.
He’s got you fooled!
I snort, seeing nothing but what the headlights allow us to see. It’s past eleven on a Saturday night and eerie out here in the middle of nowhere.
For as long as I can remember, my father has preferred to live in seclusion. No one comes this far out of town. That’s why he picked this property after all. He had this house built for his wife when they got married. They chose to settle down in Collins, Oregon, a small, rich city on the coast, even though he was living in Vegas at the time he met her. She was a showgirl, and he had money. A match made in heaven.
“He’s not home often,” he adds, sliding his green eyes to mine in the rearview. Well, that’s a bonus!
The trees part, and through the soft drizzle, I see a house fifty yards ahead, facing us. Three stories tall, it looks every bit like the small castles I used to read about in fairy tales. Green vines climb up the sides of the house like hands grabbing on for dear life. Last time I was here, I used them to climb out from my second-story window. Its white stucco and black shutters make it look a tad on the evil side when lit up at night from the spotlights on the ground. It has twelve fireplaces, a six-car garage, and living quarters for the people he hires to do the jobs his wife is very capable of. A five-tier fountain sits in the middle of the circular drive. Large trees cover his twenty acres, hiding them away from anyone who happens to be nearby.
Raylan brings the SUV to a stop and gets out. I step out and shut my door, following him. The only sound is the wind whipping the trees around. Raindrops on my skin cause a chill to run up my spine.
“Come on,” he calls out, already climbing the stairs.
I take them two at a time, passing the white columns and entering the house. I stand in the massive foyer looking over the black and white checkered floor and to the staircase to the left. It lacks anything resembling a home. And makes me think more of a museum with priceless artifacts. It smells the same. Like money. Crisp hundred-dollar bills. As if the walls and floors are made of them.
“Austin? Is that you?”
I hear the annoying voice and sigh. My father’s wife, who is young enough to be my older sister, comes running into the foyer. Her bleach blond hair down and straight. Her makeup done as if she just finished getting ready for the day. Dressed in a pair of black slacks and a blouse to match, she looks as if she’s spent her day at an office.
She doesn’t work.
“Oh my gosh, you’ve gotten so big,” she squeals, pulling me in for a hug. The smell of her expensive perfume almost makes me sneeze.
“Hello, Celeste,” I say, giving her a half hug.
She pulls back but holds my arms and smiles. Her brown eyes soft. “Wow, haven’t you grown up?”
“That’s what kids do.”
She smiles at Raylan. “Please put her things in her room.” Then she takes my hand and starts dragging me out of the foyer and down the hall. We take a right into the elaborate kitchen. “Your father left these for you,” she says, patting the kitchen island.