Sticks and Stones by Angèle Gougeon Page B

liked the law a whole lot less than his boys. He got still, ready and waiting when a police car crossed his path. His wolf eyes watched, kept them in his sights until they were gone, and even then he was cautious. Danny mirrored him sometimes, willing to follow his father even if he didn’t understand all the reasons why.
    The Sloans looked after themselves and they looked after her.
    Jack had talked to Amanda and Daniel had talked to everybody else. The law hadn’t helped Nikki Trite or Lydia Barsowich and it certainly wasn’t going to help Sandra Daron. But the Sloans would. Most of the kids didn’t care that the weird girl had disappeared, but they were very careful not to say that anywhere Daniel could hear after he left that first boy with a broken jaw.
    No one told the teachers.
    And no one told Mr. Murray.
    He’d felt so safe. Her parents had never shown for parent-teacher meetings. They didn’t ask questions about her report cards or help with homework or pick her up after school. Sandra was a loner, quiet and odd, and Mr. Murray hadn’t thought she’d be missed.
    Mr. Murray had been wrong. He hadn’t looked hard enough. He’d made a mistake.
    From the way Lem was packing the truck and the way the boys were stuffing their belongings into bags fast- fast , Mr. Murray wasn’t going to be making problems for anyone ever again.
    Daniel packed her bag and Jack snuck inside her old bedroom window for the money she’d stashed under her floorboards – everything else she owned was already in their house. “Anything left?” Daniel asked on his third time past the couch, still worried even though she had her own clothes on and her wounds were cleaned and covered and she’d taken the longest shower she’d ever had, sitting with her legs pulled up as the water pounded and pounded.
    Sandra shook her head.
    He went away.
    “You sure?”
    Sandra looked up, found Lem crouching in front of her, blanket thick around her shoulders and her legs and making her feel snug and safe, a numb cocoon. She couldn’t see his hands, hanging down around his crouched knees, but his face was scrubbed clean, stubble still dotting along his jaw, and she figured he must have changed his clothes. Even the neighbors in this part of town weren’t so negligent as to ignore a blood-soaked man.
    “Are you sure you want to come?” he asked again.
    Sandra blinked at him.
    “We won’t force you to leave.”
    “I want to,” she whispered, and it was just another ache to hear how fragile she sounded. She didn’t want to be like this. “I want to leave.” She nodded. “I want to.”
    “Okay,” Lem’s voice was equally soft.
    “My parents won’t mind.”
    Lem closed his eyes, bowed his head forward and Sandra stared at the small spot of red by his ear that he’d missed. “They won’t mind,” her voice wavered and Lem reached forward, placed his hand close to her, not touching, but in view if she wanted to take it.
    He had cleaned them. Even scrubbed under his nails.
    “We found you.”
    “I know.”
    “We’d care.” He said it so confidently, so strongly that Sandra couldn’t help the sound that bubbled up, halfway between a gasp and a sob.
    She shook her head, fast and blinding and she didn’t even know if she was still shaking, but suddenly Lem was next to her, had her pulled onto his lap and he was rocking her as she gasped and said, “I don’t want it! I don’t want it anymore. I don’t want to see.” The words were broken, all rushed together, and Lem pulled her closer, arms strong around her like he would never break but he’d allow her to do so.
    “I don’t want to see anymore.”
    “I know,” he said. “I know.” His stubble tickled her head. “You’re not alone. This won’t happen again. We won’t let it.”
    “He’s right,” Jack whispered over the back of the couch, nearly falling over from how far he was leaning until Daniel pulled him back.
    “We look after our own.”
    She wanted to