Fadeaway by E. Vickers (sight word readers TXT) 📕

at him. Even now he wants to pull his brother into his arms and apologize for a thousand things. But the anger in Kolt’s eyes makes him keep his distance as he tries to stanch the blood with the back of his wrist.

“Where is he?” Kolt demands, shaking out his fist and cradling it in his other hand. “Where’s Jake?”

He’s only here for Jake, then. Kmart is suddenly grateful Jake stalled and stayed inside. Jake isn’t ready for this. Kolt could easily be the trigger that takes him right back where he started.

“Not out here. And you shouldn’t be, either. Trust me, it’s better for everybody if you drive away.”

Kolt steps up into his brother’s face. “I’d be happy to leave and never see you again. It would make my freaking day. But we’re not leaving without Jake.”

Daphne steps between them. “Please. We just want to talk to him. We want him to know that this doesn’t have to be the end.”

“I’ll be sure to pass along the message,” Kmart says. “If I see him.”

Then the back door of the car opens, and the kid climbs out too.

No, no, no. This isn’t good. The kid can’t be here. Jake could be coming up any minute now, and Kmart knows too well how it tears your heart in half to walk away from family.

Kmart studies the kid. He’s not afraid. Not now, not in his house yesterday.

The kid studies him back. “Did you give him the notebook?”

Truth be told, Kmart keeps forgetting to give Jake the notebook—he thinks he may have put it in Jake’s backpack. He was too busy counting the cash that came with it. He searches for a line that will satisfy the kid enough to leave. “It’s with him right now,” he says. True enough—Jake and the notebook are probably both in the basement. He might have found it while he was packing up. He might be reading it this very minute.

Then the slam of the screen door. Four heads snap toward the noise as the beam of the porch light cuts through the dusk.

Kmart swears. How can he be done already?

Even in the failing light, they all see the moment when Jake sees them. He steps to the edge but not down off the porch, so his face is sharp lines of light and shadow under the single bulb. At first he’s frozen, but then he steps back and kicks the metal frame of the screen door, just once—hard enough that they can hear it, even from down the drive.

Then the tears come, and Jake’s body shakes with sobs.

Not one of them dares step forward. The yard falls silent—hell, the whole world falls silent—until the old wooden steps creak and crunch on the gravel drive under Jake’s sneakers, their soles worn smooth on hardwood.

“You’re alive,” Kolt says.

But it doesn’t take long before being alive isn’t enough.

Kolt barrels toward Jake, and it’s Kmart who catches him and holds him back.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Kolt spits the words at Jake. “Texting us to say it’s all over and please forgive you. Who does that?”

Kmart tightens his grip as Kolt strains forward. “You sent that, Foster? When? Holy crap, no wonder they tracked us down.”

Jake protests. “They didn’t have to track us down. I left a note. I told my family exactly what I was doing and why.”

Kolt shrugs his brother off. “Luke,” he barks at the kid, who’s still standing behind the open car door like it’s a shield. “Did Jake leave a note?”

Luke shakes his head, hard. “The paper was blank. He didn’t leave us anything.”

Jake steps toward him, and he flinches.

“We thought,” the kid says, choking on a sob, “we thought it was almost over. Like you were maybe dying.”

“I’m not,” Jake says. “Luke, I’m not. I’m okay. I just…” He sputters, stalls. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry about all of this.”

It’s a start, but Kmart knows better than anybody that it will take a lot more than that to make things right.

Jake will be apologizing for the rest of his life.

All this time, Jake has been a ghost to me, and now that he’s standing in front of me, I’m still not sure that’s changed. The smile, the swagger—everything that made him Jake—have been stripped away, replaced by this pale, hollowed-out shell of the Jake I loved.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t see it,” I say. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me.” My words are soft; they need to be after the way Kolt went after him. “But I’m here now. We all are. We want to help.”

I approach gently, still unsure how to interpret Jake’s text.

Maybe when this is all over…

“What did you mean in your text?” I ask, aware that Luke is listening to every word. “Maybe when what is all over? Are you…leaving?”

Jake nods, slow and solemn. “We have to go away for a while. Hopefully not forever.”

“Go where?” Kolt demands, but when I raise a hand, he backs off.

They’re going away.

He’s not going to hurt himself, then.

Relief rushes through me, but reality’s right behind. Jake still needs help, and running away won’t lead to any lasting solution. I wish I could tell him it’s all okay, that whatever he’s done, it’s already forgiven.

But it’s not. It can’t be. I stare at him, knowing I can’t turn him in for the burglary, but I have to.

I can’t.

But I have to.

Right is right. The words are Dad’s, but they’re mine now too, even if the edges are still a little softer for me.

I reach for my phone. “If you make a deal, they’ll go easy on you. Especially since it’s your first offense.”

I don’t look at Kmart when I say this. We both know he’s already used all his chances.

Jake shakes his head. “Daph, we’re getting out of here. We have to.”

“You can’t run from this,” I plead. “Please let me make the call.”

He comes to me, takes the phone. Just when I’m about to