Part 4 (2/2)

Aaron c.o.c.ked his head, puzzled.

”I wrote it a the book, I mean,” Michael said. ”My novel was adapted into the movie.”

”No way!” Aaron said. ”That's very cool. You know, I'm thinking about becoming a writer, too.”

Michael smiled, but he had heard it a million times. It seemed that nearly everyone he talked to was either trying to become a writer or had thought about it.

”That's a worthy goal,” he said finally. ”My advice would be to read every day and write every day a and write for the love of writing, or you'll never be able to do the necessary work.”

Aaron deflated a little.

”Maybe you and I could talk more about it sometime,” Michael said, looking at him.

Aaron smiled. ”That'd be great.”

Michael fired up the DBS's sweetly tuned engine. ”But for now, let's get you home.”

From his seat behind the wheel of the white van, Needles saw the silver Aston Martin exit the underground garage and head west. It pa.s.sed under a street lamp and he recognized the boy in the pa.s.senger seat. Then he pulled away from the curb to follow.

Michael hit the gas for a few seconds to give Aaron a feel for the V-12's awesome power. Aaron giggled and held on. Needles struggled to keep pace, while at the same time trying to keep his distance.

”Do you have any brothers and sisters?” Michael asked as they approached Aaron's neighborhood.

”Nope, just me.”

”Pets?”

Aaron laughed. ”Yeah, like Tom would ever let me have a pet.”

”I take it Tom's your stepdad,” Michael said.

”Unfortunately,” Aaron said, sorry for the reminder. ”How *bout you? Any family?”

Michael paused. Leafing through those memories was difficult for him a talking about it only served to make it real again. But it was he who had brought up the subject and he felt obliged to follow through.

”My wife and only son were killed in an auto accident,” he said. The horrible memory flooded his senses.

”Oh, wow ...” Aaron said, unprepared for such a dismal reply. But he was able to relate a at least to some degree. ”I'm so sorry.”

”Thank you,” Michael said. He hadn't spoken to anyone about it in years, and he felt the need to elaborate. ”I wasn't with them that night. The other driver was drunk a he crossed over the center divide. Little Tyler was three; he was killed instantly. Jennie lived for 4 days.” He paused for a moment to let his breath catch up. ”It's been five-and-a-half years, now.”

Aaron couldn't say anything, so he didn't try.

The Aston purred to a stop in front of Aaron's apartment. Aaron and Michael got out and walked up the front steps.

Michael removed a pad and pen from the inside pocket of his jacket, then scribbled something and tore out the page. ”Here's my cell number,” he said. ”Call me tomorrow and let me know you're all right, okay?”

”Okay,” Aaron said as he took the slip of paper.

Michael jotted down Aaron's number as well then raised a high-five. ”You cool?” he asked.

Aaron fived him back. ”Yeah, I'm cool. Thanks for the brownies.”

He removed a key from under the welcome mat, unlocked the door, and replaced the key, then stepped inside and closed the heavy door behind him.

Michael laid his hand on the door and felt the grain of the wood.

”Good night, Aaron,” he said.

As Michael drove away, he pa.s.sed the white van, parked across the street from Aaron's apartment.

Johnny Souther was six blocks away, cruising the streets in a black van. He picked up Needles's call and listened for a moment.

”Hold your position,” he said. ”I'm on my way.”

Chapter 14.

Batting Practice Aaron undressed, throwing his tattered clothes in the bottom of his hamper and covering them, making a mental note to trash them in the morning. He reached for his pajamas, but thinking again he decided to remain dressed. He put on a fresh pair of jeans, a T-s.h.i.+rt, a clean hooded sweats.h.i.+rt, socks and sneakers.

He thought of waking his mother, but he couldn't face the prospect of waking Tom. So he crawled under the covers to wait for morning.

The black van pulled up to the apartment and parked behind the white van. Johnny Souther got out and walked over to meet with his thugs. Needles filled him in then told him about the hidden key.

”Guard the exits,” Souther said as he reloaded his .45. ”I'll take care of the kid. Stay outside even if shots are fired, understand? No one gets in or out alive.” He pulled out a large knife and checked the edge with his thumb.

The thugs nodded, and Souther motioned for them to move out. He used the hidden key to unlock the front door, then drew his gun and quietly entered the apartment.

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