Mercy (The Night Man Chronicles Book 3), Brett Battles [best books to read in your 20s TXT] 📗

hear keys again, this time flying through the air before hitting something and falling to the ground. “Jesus! What’s wrong with you?”

“Sorry,” Evan says.

“Put those away and let’s get out of here,” Chuckie says.

I hear movement at the same place I heard something bump against the RV, and I realize that both sounds were likely caused by the chairs I’d seen Chuckie pull out earlier.

Which is why I’m expecting to hear the door to the rear storage area open. From where I am, I can’t see it due to the Winnebago’s support structure so I’m not worried about being discovered.

Or I wasn’t until a key enters the lock for the hatch, on the front passenger side of the vehicle.

There is nowhere I can go.

After my initial oh, crap moment passes, my rational mind kicks in. Evan doesn’t need to look into the hold to slide the chairs inside, so there’s still very little chance he’ll see me.

When the leg end of the first chair passes through the door, the only parts of Evan I see are his waist and hands, backlit by the orange sky of the recently set sun.

As the chair legs get near me, I scoot back a little to make sure they have enough room. When the other end enters the compartment, Evan lets go of the chair and his hands disappear long enough to grab the second chair.

He shoves it inside on top of the first chair, with a little more force than he needs to, in what I’m guessing is a passive-aggressive show of annoyance. I can’t say I blame him, but the problem is this micro outburst caused one of the legs of the second chair to get hung up in the cloth seat of the first. When the chair unexpectedly stops wanting to go in, Evan tries the very male thing of shoving it harder a few times to see if that’ll take care of the issue.

It does not.

What I’m hoping he’ll do is pull it out and try again, in which case I’ll grab the leg before it can get caught and guide the chair into place.

What he does instead is lean down to see what’s wrong.

I hold very still, hoping the darkness of the storage space is deep enough to conceal me.

Evan eyes the chair and spots the problem almost right away. He pulls the chair back enough to free the leg and then pushes it in again, watching its progress to make sure it doesn’t get stuck again.

That’s when he sees me.

He freezes, confused, then starts to pull away, scared.

I do the only thing I can think of to save myself, and whisper as loudly as I dare, “Evan.”

This stops him. He leans down to the opening again, probably thinking I’m one of his friends, who for some unknown reason is hitching a ride. When he sees me, his brow furrows, not recognizing me.

I whisper, “I helped you, now you help me.”

His head cocks, still not understanding. But then his eyes widen as he realizes who I am.

Before he can say anything, I put my finger to my lips.

Not even a beat later, Chuckie yells from inside the RV, “Evan! Move it!”

Evan and my eyes are still locked, my finger still in front of my mouth. I twist my head slightly and raise my eyebrow, silently asking if he’ll keep my presence a secret.

After another beat, he nods, shuts the door, and climbs into the RV.

“What the hell took you so long?” Chuckie’s voice is filled with accusation, as if he’s sure Evan was up to no good.

I prepare myself to bail out and run if Evan reveals what he saw. But the boy only says, “A chair got stuck.”

“How in God’s name did a chair get stuck?”

I’m guessing Evan shrugs his answer, because the next thing I hear is Chuckie swearing again and telling Evan to sit as the Winnebago’s engine fires to life.

As soon as the signal indicator on my phone shows a couple of bars, I shoot Jar a text, telling her we’re on our way. She responds by letting me know she’s already back at the duplex.

I know we’ve reached the Prices’ house when the RV slows and Chuckie says, “What the hell? Who messed with the light?”

He’s talking about the backyard light. I’m the only one in the vehicle who knows the answer to his question, but I choose to remain silent.

After Evan opens the gate, Chuckie pulls the RV into its parking space.

I figure I have two minutes, tops, before he gets the light turned back on, so I can either wait here until everyone’s gone to sleep or get out as quickly as I can now. The latter is definitely the more desirable course, as I have a feeling if I stay out here too long, Evan will find a way to pay me a visit.

The moment I hear Chuckie exit the passenger side of the Winnebago, I slip out of the hold on the driver’s side and move to the rear corner of the RV nearest the street. When I hear the back door of the house swing open, I creep down the backside of the vehicle and peek around the edge at the house, just in time to see Kate and Sawyer go inside. Evan follows, but before he enters, he glances back at the Winnebago. I duck out of sight before he can see me, and wait until I hear him go in.

The moment the door closes, I hurry over to the removable pickets and let myself out. I barely make it to the other side of the street when the Prices’ backyard light flicks on.

Jar stares at me. “What?”

“There wasn’t much I could do about it.”

She’s reacting to news of my encounter with Evan.

Her brow is creased in worry. “Should…should we leave?”

It’s a question I’ve been considering, too. I’ve had the whole ride back to process it, so I shake my head and say, “Not