Heat creeped up my neck and I could feel my cheeks redden. I tried, unsuccessfully, to calm my nerves. My voice shook. “That was you?” Unsure of where this conversation was headed, I tried to diffuse it. “Jesus, I thought someone was stalking me, trying tofigure out the best time to kidnap me.”
Cody raised his eyebrows. “So, you admit that you didn’t quit the bar?”
Ugh, this isn’t going to be good. “I couldn’t. My sister …”
Cody pursed his lips and opened a drawer beside the stove.
“When I tell you to do something, you do it. Do you understand?”
“But Cody.”
“But nothin.’ If you don’t obey me, you’ll be punished.” A metal rod with a capital “M” on the end sat on the counter while Cody dug through another drawer.
“Punished? I’m sorry I didn’t quit, but I will the minute we get back to Seward, I promise.” I had no idea what this punishment would involve. Whatever it was, he was serious. His eyes turned black, and wrinkles creased his forehead.
“We’re not going back. You’re staying here with me so I can keep my eye on you.”
“What? But …” So many thoughts ran through my head it was hard to put them in order. I said the first thing that came to mind. “My mom will miss me. I need to tell her where I am.”
“Will she, Kennedy? Really? How stupid are you? She will be so much better off without you there to interrupt her partying. You’re just a burden.”
My mom had said those exact words just last week; how could he have known? I don’t remember telling him about her trying to talk me into getting my own apartment.
With a small torch in one hand and the metal stick in the other, Cody held the flame to the “M” until it turned orange. “Give me your arm.”
What could he possibly do with that “M”?“What? No.” I pulled away from his grip.
Evil filled his dark eyes, and I knew not to resist. He held out his hand, so I offered my arm and closed my eyes. It seemed like hours before he touched the hot metal to my skin. Pain worse than anything I had ever experienced overtook me and I thought I would pass out. I had never smelled burning flesh before, and I never wanted to again. My stomach turned and I gagged.
“Now everyone will know you belong to me. Only me. No one else will ever have you again. Do I make myself clear?”
Tears streamed down my face, and I gagged again. Finally able to pull away, I ran down the hallway.
“You better not puke on my new carpet.”
The first door led to a powder room and, luckily, I made it to the sink before the contents of my stomach rose to the surface.
I STUDIED theswollen, red skin which surrounded the “M” on my forearm. It didn’t hurt as much after a couple shots of whiskey, but it still pulsed. As painful as it was, it actually looked pretty cool. If this was how Cody announced to the world that we would be together forever, I’d decided it could be worse. A ring would have been better, but I took what I could get.
Chapter 11
Jake, age seventeen—June 2002
OVERCOME withanger, I made a fist and plowed it into Mark’s face—no one called me a psycho. The severe word was reserved for my dad, and I was nothing like him. The new kid fell to the ground and covered his face.
I could have easily kicked him in the ribs and listened to them crack. I’d done it before. As much as I wanted to watch him bleed for what he called me, I wanted my freedom more.
Two guards rushed into the hallway just as Mark wiped blood from his nose. “What’s going on here?”
I lifted my chin and waited for Mark to say it was my fault. He hadn’t yet learned how to play by our rules. Until now. Like a good boy, he kept his mouth shut.
I was kind of a big deal in my small town. Even though my dad was a psychopathic drug lord ringleader, somehow, I had turned out to be the bad guy. Society labeled me a murderer, even though he killed my mom,among others who had betrayed him.
Over the past two years, I had made a name for myself among the nineteen other boys who lived in my unit at McLaughlin. When I first arrived, the older guys made me cower, then, when I realized I had nothing to lose, I fought back. The first time I knocked out the leader of the bullies, his crew backed down. After knocking him out two more times, everyone in the block looked at me as the one to fear.
My intent was to protect myself, not to gain the respect of all the guys, but I’m not sorry that happened. Not a fighter at heart, I never sought out trouble. For some reason, though, it always seemed to find me.
From what I understood, no one else had killed anyone, but I couldn’t be sure. It was a rule that we weren’t to explain how we got here; some of us followed that rule, others, not so much. I couldn’t be sure if anyone knew my story; if they did, it didn’t come from me.
