“Are we ready, Kevin?”
Slater picks up the phone, flips a switch on the scrambler, and dials the cell phone he’s instructed Kevin to keep with him.
![Thr3e _3.jpg](https://litlife.club/books/225011/read/images/_3.jpg)
Kevin ran to his car and started it before it occurred to him that he had nowhere to go. If he had Samantha’s cell number, he would have called her. He almost called Milton but couldn’t get past the thought of the cops turning this house into a crime scene. It was inevitable, though—he had to report the bomb. Not telling Milton about Slater’s true demand had been one thing; covering up a second bomb was in a whole different league. He considered returning to explain the dog’s death to Balinda, but he didn’t have the stomach to face her, much less form an explanation that would make any sense.
The explosion had been muffled by the doghouse—none of the neighbors seemed to have heard. If they had, they weren’t running around saying so.
Kevin sat in his car, running his fingers through his hair. A sudden fury spread through his bones. The phone in his pocket buzzed loudly against his leg and he jumped.
Slater!
It buzzed again. He fumbled for the cell phone, pulled it out, flipped it open.
“Hello?”
“Hello.”
“You . . . you didn’t have to do that,” Kevin said, voice wavering. He hesitated and then continued quickly. “Are you the boy? You’re the boy, aren’t you? Look, I’m here. Just tell me what—”
“Shut up! What boy? Did I tell you to lecture me? Did I say, ‘I feel badly in need of a lecture at this time, college Kevin?’ Don’t ever do that again. You’ve broken the don’t-speak-to-me-unless-engaged rule several times now, college boy. The next time, I kill something that walks on two legs. Consider it negative reinforcement. Understand?”
“Yes.”
“That’s better. And I think it’s best not to tell the cops about this one. I know I said you could after the fact, but this little bonus was just something I planned in the event you weren’t a good listener, which you were so quick to confirm. Mum’s the word on this one. Okay?”
Don’t tell the cops? How could he—
“Answer me!”
“O . . . okay.”
“Tell Balinda to keep her trap shut too. I’m sure she’ll agree. She won’t want the cops searching through the house, now, will she?”
“No.” So Slater knew about Balinda.
“The games are on. I’m the bat; you’re the ball. I keep slugging until you confess. Lock and load.”
Kevin desperately wanted to ask him what he meant by that word: confess.But he couldn’t. He could hear Slater breathing on the other end.
“Samantha’s coming down,” Slater said in a soft voice. “That’s good. I can’t decide whom I despise more, you or her.” The line clicked and Slater was gone. Kevin sat in silent shock. Whoever Slater was, he seemed to know everything. Balinda, the dog, the house. Samantha. He exhaled and closed his fingers to a fist to steady their trembling.
This is really happening, Kevin. Someone who knows is going to blow the lid off. What falls but never breaks? What breaks but never falls?Night and day. In life he’s your friend, but death is the end. In life the dog was a friend, but death was the end of him. But there was more. Something Slater wanted him to confess was night and day, and life and death. What?
Kevin slammed the steering wheel with his fist. What, what?
“What boy?” Slater had said. What boy? So then he wasn’t the boy?
Dear God . . . Dear God . . .Dear God what? He couldn’t even think straight to pray. He put his head back and took several long, calming breaths. “Samantha. Samantha.” She would know what to do. Kevin closed his eyes.
![Thr3e _4.jpg](https://litlife.club/books/225011/read/images/_4.jpg)
Kevin was eleven years old when he first saw the boy who wanted to kill him.
He and Samantha had become the very best of friends. What made their friendship most special was that their trips into the night remained a secret. He saw other kids now and then, but he never talked to them. Mother didn’t like that. But as far as he knew, she never did discover his little secret about the window. Every few nights, whenever they’d planned, or sometimes when Sam would tap on his window, or even sometimes when he went out and tapped on Sam’s window, he would sneak out and meet her.
He didn’t tell Sam what was happening inside the house. He wanted to, of course, but he couldn’t tell her the worst of it, although he wondered whether she might have guessed anyway. His time with Sam was special because it was the only part of his life that wasn’tabout the house. He wanted to keep it that way.
The private school Sam attended held classes year-round, so she was always busy during the day, but Kevin knew he could never sneak out during the day anyway. Mother would find out.
“Why don’t you ever want to play at the park?” Sam asked him one night as they walked through the greenway. “You’d get along great with Tommy and Linda.”
He shrugged. “I just don’t want to. They might tell.”
“We could make them swear not to. They like me; they’d promise not to tell. They could be part of our club.”
“We have fun together without them, don’t we? Why do we need them?”
“Well, you have to start meeting some other people, Kevin. You’re growing up, you know. I can’t understand why your mom won’t let you out to play in the first place. That’s kinda mean—”
“Don’t talk about her that way!”
“Well, it is!”
Kevin lowered his head, suddenly feeling suffocated. They stood in the quiet for a moment.
Sam put her hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
The way she said it made tears come to his eyes. She was so special.
“I’m sorry,” she said again. “I guess just because she’s different doesn’t mean she’s mean. Different strokes for different folks, right?”
He looked up at her, unsure.
“It’s a saying.” She wiped a tear that had leaked from his right eye. “At least your mom isn’t one of those parents who abuse their kids. I’ve heard my dad talk about some things.” She shuddered. “Some people are horrible.”
“My mom is a princess,” Kevin said softly.
Sam grinned politely and nodded. “She’s never hit you, has she, Kevin?”
“Hit me? Why would she hit me?”
“Has she?”
“Never! She sends me to my room and makes me read my books. That’s all. Why would anyone hit someone else?”
“Not everyone’s as sweet as you, Kevin.” Sam took his hand and they started to walk. “I think my dad might know about us.”
Kevin pulled up. “What?”
“He’s asked a few questions. Mom and Dad talk about your family every once in a while. He is a cop, after all.”
“Did . . . did you tell him anything?”
“Of course not. Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me.”
They walked for a few minutes, hand in hand.
“Do you like Tommy?” Kevin asked.
“Tommy? Sure.”
“I mean, is he your . . . you know . . .”
“Boyfriend? Don’t gross me out!”
Kevin flushed and giggled. They came to a large tree behind her house and Sam stopped. She faced him and took both of his hands in hers. “I don’t have any boyfriends except you, Kevin. I like you.”
He looked into her bright blue eyes. A gentle breeze lifted her blonde hair so that it swam around her, highlighted by the moon. She was the most beautiful thing Kevin had ever seen. He was so taken with her that he had trouble even speaking.
“I . . . I like you too, Sam.”
“We’re like secret lovers,” she said softly, and suddenly her face softened. “I’ve never kissed a boy before. Could I kiss you?”
“Kiss me?” He swallowed.
“Yes.”
Kevin’s throat was suddenly dryer than baking powder. “Yes.”
She leaned forward and touched her lips to his for a moment.
She pulled back and they stared at each other, wide-eyed. Kevin’s heart throbbed in his ears. He should do something! Before he lost his nerve, he bent and returned the kiss.