Page 85 of Threaded Lies

The laughter fades and we fall silent as we both stare at a trail of ants coming out of the broken concrete beneath our feet and moving toward a broken chip at the far end of the dugout.

There’s something else he wants to ask about, I can sense it, so I wait out the silence and let him build the courage to do so.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Ask away.”

“Are we going to lose our house? Like, with all this election talk about tearing down Fairmont.” He clears his throat and refuses to look at me. “I mean, I know it’s not much, but it’s our home, you know?”

There is a pride there, a dignity that I feel like cleaning up the complex helped him realize.

“Here’s the thing about politicians, Leo. They promise a lot and never deliver on most of it.”

“He’s making promises from the same alphabet yours are made from.”

Kid’s got a point.

“You’re not going to lose your house, Leo. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Yeah, but that dude is rich.”

I laugh. It’s low and has so much more meaning in it than he’ll ever understand. Every part of me wants to lean in closer to him, lower my voice, and tell him, I’m richer, but after this conversation about being bait for the guys around here, it’s best to keep that close to the vest.

“I told you I’ll make sure of it, and I’ll make sure of it. Have I gone back on any of my promises yet?”

He angles his head to the side and studies me. He doesn’t say anything but just nods—his only acknowledgment that I haven’t gone back on anything—as he stands up. “I have to go. My mom will be freaking out soon.”

“Okay.”

He smiles and then begins to walk away.

“Hey, Leo?”

“What up?”

“Where’s your bike?”

“Got stolen at school. It wasn’t anything special.”

“But it was yours.”

“Yeah.” He nods. It was his little slice of freedom. His only way to escape faster than on foot if need be. It was his. “Later, Three-Piece.”

“Later, Leo.”

I stare after him long after he’s gone, knowing I should get the fuck out of here and stop making myself a sitting duck.

As I climb behind the wheel, the concern in Leo’s voice owns my head.

Can I ask you something?

And here I thought he was going to ask for more money or more gift cards. A new glove or bat. Nope. The damn kid just wanted to know if he’s going to lose the roof over his head.

Fuck you, Rhett and Chad. For being the guys you always were. For being such goddamn pricks.

You are not better than anyone on this side of the river.

Not Mason.