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was living in, they would remove him immediately. He had to do something. Kneeling in front of the boy, he smiled gently at him. ”Hi there, Henry. My name’s Ray. Nice to meet you.”

Henry jammed his thumb into his mouth, his eyes flitting anxiously between Ray and Tom.

”Where are his toys?” Ray fumed. “Doesn’t he have a teddy or something? He looks half scared to death.”

Tom frowned as he reached for his hunting pack. ”You best get out of here now. Me and the boy have stuff to do.”

“The boy?” Ray echoed. ”Is that how you refer to your son when he’s standing right here in front of you. Can’t you at least use his name? Don’t you remember what it felt like when dad yelled at us, get over here, boy?”

“I never had a dad,” Tom growled, elbowing past him. He gripped Henry by the shoulder and stared defiantly at Ray. “Whether you like it or not, Henry’s none of your business.”

“He is my business, Tom. This is my nephew we’re talking about. I’ve never seen a more neglected child in all my life. You ought to be ashamed of yourself. How can you call yourself a father? You’re depriving him of everything a kid needs to grow up happy and secure.”

“You don’t understand,” Tom hissed. ”I’m doing the best I can.”

“Well, your best isn’t good enough,” Ray fired back. ”He’s not being properly taken care of, not by a long shot. This isn’t right.”

Tom reached for his gun. ”I’m not gonna warn you again. Get off my property!”

“Are you crazy?” Ray asked. “Put the gun down! You’re scaring Henry.” He bent down and picked the boy up in his arms, trying not to gag at the stench of him. He smelled as if he’d been steeped in four years of filth and never been bathed. “Is your daddy scaring you, buddy?”

Henry started sobbing so quietly it was almost as if he’d been trained not to make a sound even in the depths of despair. Ray’s heart ached for him. He knew how that felt. “It’s okay,” he soothed, rubbing Henry’s back in small circles.

“I … m-m-miss Mommy!” he sobbed.

Ray pinned a steely gaze on Tom. “Where is his mother?” he demanded. “Have you tried to reach out to her at all?”

Tom raised his rifle and pointed it at Ray. “It’s time for you to leave. Put the boy down.”

“Okay, okay,” Ray said in a placating tone. His heart thudded against his ribs. He needed time to think this through. He couldn’t leave the child here, but he couldn’t push Tom to the breaking point either and risk Henry taking a stray bullet. He set him down in a rocking chair—the only seating in the shack, apart from a storage bench—and reached for his backpack, sick to his stomach. Did Tom make the kid sit on the floor to eat? Or was he forced to stay up in the loft bed? Ray couldn’t decide which was worse, eating on the floor like a dog, or being a virtual prisoner in your own bed. A chill passed over him. Tom wasn’t right in the head. He couldn’t in good conscience leave Henry here with him one more day.

Tom slowly lowered the rifle and laid it on the table. He folded his arms in front of him, a sullen look on his face as he waited for Ray to exit the cabin.

“I’m leaving, but I’m taking Henry with me,” Ray announced. “He needs medical attention. What you’re doing to him is criminal.”

“Don’t you dare threaten me,” Tom snarled, reaching for his hunting pack. ”If you’re so concerned about his welfare, maybe you should think about the fact that Henry’s been through enough already losing his mother. How do you think he’s going to feel if you rip him away from me too?”

“You’re not a fit father, Tom,” Ray said. ”Open your eyes and take a good look at your son. He looks like a refugee. You’re every bit as bad as our father was—you’re full of pent-up rage. Are you hitting the bottle too? Henry’s terrified of you. I saw it in his eyes the minute he peered down from the loft. After everything we went through as kids, I can’t believe you would bully and abuse an innocent child.”

“You’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” Tom spat back, dropping his pack at his feet. “You don’t even know me anymore.”

“You’re right, Tom. I don’t know you. And I don’t like what I see now that I’m here.”

Fists flying, Tom lunged for him, spittle flying from his mouth. Instinctively, Ray threw a defensive punch, catching him square on the chin. Tom stumbled, clearly dazed, before toppling backward over his hunting pack.

The last thing Ray heard before Tom hit the floor was the crack of his head as he slammed against the storage bench.

26

Ray stood frozen in place, eyes planted on his brother sprawled motionless on the cabin floor. His shoulders sagged in relief when Tom moaned softly and stirred. Ray stole a glance at Henry, his little body trembling in the chair, before making a split-second decision. Any minute now, Tom would be back on his feet, more enraged than ever. He couldn’t leave Henry here with him. It wasn’t safe. Neglect was one thing, but Henry’s cowering demeanor suggested Tom was also physically abusive—he’d lunged at Ray, after all. At the very least, he was unstable, and unwilling to listen to reason. This was no environment for a small child.

Before he could change his mind, Ray hurriedly threw on his pack, picked Henry up in his arms and fled. With a bit of luck, Tom would be too dazed to follow them—at least until they had got enough of a head start to make it safely out of his reach. Ray had no idea how to get back to the Deep Creek Campground where he’d left his truck, but if he could just get down the mountain, he could

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