Page 11 of Phoenix

“The internet and common sense.” Tor twisted some sort of screwdriver into the metal ring around the coupling. “Stop getting wasted all the time and you’d have more of it. You could learn to do this too.”

“Fuck off,” Trey said.

“I mean it.”

“Why are you giving me a hard time? It’s not like I’m getting high.”

Tor lowered his arm and shifted his cool gaze from the underside of the trailer to his brother. “Because you’re drunk. Right now. Every day.” Like always, his tone was calm, voice low. “Do you want to turn out like your father?”

“Go to hell,” Trey spat. He rose to his feet, but he was wobbly.

“There’s a meeting every night at six at the Mennonite Church. I looked it up. I’ll go with you if you want,” Tor offered.

“Fuck you.” He turned and walked toward the side of the house. “I’m out of here.”

“Trey,” Tyson said. “He’s right.”

His back to them, Trey held up his hand, middle finger raised.

“I’m worried about you,” Tor called after him.

His steps faltered. “I’ll be back later.” He walked around the house toward the front yard.

“You think he’ll listen?” Jule asked quietly. Tor had a good point about his brother. Trey had been drinking way too much.

“Eventually,” Tor said, continuing to work on the trailer. “Ty, what’d you say about Vickie being a snitch? What does that mean?”

“No idea.” Tyson shook his head. “I think maybe he accused her of fucking a cop?” He scrunched his nose, sniffed, and then took a drag off his cigarette. “She wasn’t clear. I think we’d know if a cop came around here so either she doesn’t understand what set him off or John Jones has the wrong information.”

Tor scooted out from under the trailer, stood up, and then jumped out of the trench. He looked back and forth between Jule and Tyson as he wiped his hands on his jeans. “Either that or he considers the state attorney general to be a cop.”

“Fuck,” Tyson breathed out. He dropped his cigarette into the dirt and ground it out with his shoe.

“Yeah,” Tor nodded.

That was bad. Very bad. “Should I go inside and warn my dad?” Jule asked. His father was in the bedroom with Vickie, as usual.

“Probably.” Tor nodded. “Let’s—”

Shouting from inside the house cut him off. They all turned toward the sound.

“Trav and Tan are at work, right?” Jule said. “I thought Trey left.”

“They are.” Tyson was frowning at the house as he took a step forward. “He did.”

Tor was completely still. “Oh, fuck me.” He reached for Tyson and gripped his arm. “Get him out of here.” His voice was rough, panicked. Jule had never heard him sound like that.

“Who?” Jule asked. “Trey?”

“That’s not Trey,” Tyson said again, his voice shaking that time.

“Jule, you need to leave right fucking now,” Tor snapped.

“Why? What’s—”

Before he could finish his sentence, a loud bang rang through the air.

“Ty, get him the fuck out of here.” Tor started running toward the house.