Chapter 4

Ryan was lost. Seth had been there just a second ago but now, with his ears ringing from the shot and Dawn screaming that Rick was going to piss off the neighbors, the world seemed coated in a thick fog that he couldn't claw his way through.

Then he heard Seth's voice and reached out a hand to find him.

"Jesus and Moses, I'm shot."

"Seth!" Ryan turned on the floor, scrambling to bring himself to Seth's side. Frantically, his eyes panned over the boy's sprawled body, his hands patting Seth's legs and chest as he looked for injury. "Where?"

Seth wasn't cooperating. "He shot me. Oh, God, he shot me."

"I didn't shoot you, get up!" Rick was shouting to be heard and Ryan was ignoring him.

He stared at Seth; he couldn't find any blood. Seth wasn't holding a particular part of his body, just flailing wildly in a panic. "Seth!" He finally got the other boy's attention. "Where did he shoot you?"

"I don't…I'm not…He shot me." He locked eyes with Ryan. "You saw that, right? He shot me."

"Get up! Both of you!" Rick was still waving his gun, kicking Ryan in the leg to get off the floor.

Ryan stayed put. "I saw it, but did he get you? Are you bleeding?"

Seth ran his hands over his body. "I don't think so. He missed?" He looked like he might cry as he locked gazes with Ryan.

"Rick, put that damn gun away before you actually shoot someone." Dawn was pulling him away from the boys on the floor, chastising him about always having to wave the gun around.

Ryan felt a wave of nausea wash over his body. He'd missed. Rick had aimed right at Seth, he was sure of it; how did he miss? Or had he aimed high? Was it just a warning shot? Ryan felt his stomach lurch. He couldn't take this—imaging all the horrors that could happen was one thing, but the gun going off just made everything a little too real.

"Come on." Ryan offered a hand to Seth and pulled him to his feet. "You okay?"

"I might need a change of pants, but yeah, all parts intact."

Ryan let his gaze linger on Seth for another moment, then turned to Dawn and Rick. She was lighting up another cigarette and he was taking a swig of beer—just a typical day in the Atwood household. He had to get Seth out of here before the day held true to form and the beatings started.

"Look." Ryan stepped forward to focus Rick's attention solely on him. "Seth doesn't have anything to do with this. Let him go home. I'll get your money somehow."

"Oh yeah?" Rick took a lit cigarette from Dawn and puffed on it. "And exactly what does 'somehow' include?"

"I don't know, I just…"

"Forget it kid. I don't need you to get the money."

Ryan frowned in confusion.

"I think Richie Rich here is a better bet." Rick grinned like a Cheshire cat. "Aren't you…what did you say your name was?"

"Ahh…Seth."

"Seth," Rick repeated. "You're the rich kid that took our boy Ryan in, aren't ya?"

Ryan glanced at Seth; he was nodding furiously.

"Right, so then you should have a nice fat wad in your pocket, hey?"

"Well I don't…I mean, I don't have cash."

"Of course you don't, Sethie; but any bank machine will do if you've got a credit card." Taking another swallow of his beer, he handed the can to Dawn and gestured toward the door with his gun. "Why don't you and me take a little drive, let Ryan catch up with his momma for a bit?"

"Ooo-kay," Seth said slowly, looking at Ryan.

Ryan shook his head and turned on Rick. "No way. Take me, I know his PIN."

"You do?" Seth asked.

"Not the point," Ryan tossed over his shoulder.

"Right."

"Forget it," Rick said. "I don't trust you; you always had a nasty habit of biting back. My pal Seth here will do exactly what he's told. Won't ya, Sethie?"

"Uh, sure." Seth sounded anything but sure.

"So you hang out here, help yourself to a beer. We'll be right back." Rick signaled for Seth to head out the door first.

Ryan grabbed Seth's arm as he passed. "Don't do anything stupid," he mumbled under his breath. "Just do what he says and don't try to be some superhero."

"Dude, there's no superhero who fights idiocy," Seth whispered back.

Ryan shook his head, watching helplessly as Seth walked toward the door. Rick followed close behind, whispering an ominous sounding warning into Seth's ear. He clenched his fists as the door shut on the pair—he was stuck. If he left, Rick wouldn't hesitate to take his anger out on Seth. If he stayed, he was just a sitting duck, waiting for Rick to get back and explode again.

"Come sit down, baby." Dawn, smoking a cigarette at the table, took two beers from the fridge and held one out to Ryan.

Ryan thought he'd throw up when he looked at her. He should have expected this—a part of him sort of did. His voice cracked as he spoke. "How could you let him do that?"

"Do what? Go with Seth?" She was oblivious as she popped her beer and took a long swallow. "Rick's not going to do anything to him. You can trust him."

"Trust him?" Ryan crossed the room in three long strides. "Are you kidding me? Rick, the drug dealer? Rick, the guy who broke my arm when I was eight?"

"You broke your arm when you fell off your bike."

Ryan's voice was forced. "Rick broke my arm. I fell off my bike, my knee was bleeding and I was crying. He broke it because I wouldn't shut up. How can you be like this? How can you hate me that much?"

"Hate you? You think I hate you? You think me letting you go off to live in the big mansion on the hill is hate?" Dawn was slurring but there was no mistaking the sharpness in her voice.

"You didn't let me live there, you left me there. You didn't want me; you just abandoned me. How can you ask me for anything?"

Dawn stood up, ashes flying from her cigarette. "You are better off now that you ever were with me and you know it. That's love, Ryan. When you love your kids you do anything to give them a better life."

Ryan scoffed. "Yeah, like hold them hostage 'til they pay your debts."

"I need this. You won't even notice it's gone. Why can't you do something for me for a change?"

A sudden rush of tears clouded Ryan's vision. "Shut up." His voice came out like a strangled whisper. "Shut up."

"Don't you talk to me like that." Dawn flew around the table towards him. She gripped his face tight with one hand. "You do exactly what you're told and no one gets hurt, okay? Not you, not me, and not your precious little brother."

She spat the last word so that Ryan blinked to get away from her. As she held him tight in her grip, one thought flashed in his mind—he could hit her. It would be easy, just bring his arm up, crash it down on hers; he could do it no problem. Then the reality of what he thought, what being here reduced him to, hit him hard and he pulled free. Backing away, he didn't look at her again; he couldn't stomach the thought of even speaking to her right now. Until Seth came back, he couldn't stomach the thought of doing anything but waiting. He crossed his arms over his chest and started pacing.

/-/

Ryan lost count of his laps around the living room at 150-something. He'd successfully ignored his mother's pitiful attempts at conversation, finally silencing her with a look that said he was never forgiving her no matter how many beers she offered. When the BMW pulled up in front of the house, he was out the door and down the steps before Seth even got out of the car.

"Whoa, boy, where do you think you're going?" Rick held a fresh beer to his lips as he stood from the vehicle.

Ryan ignored him and opened the driver's door. "Everything okay? He hurt you?"

"Nah, man, everything's cool." Seth looked surprisingly calm as he unfolded himself from the car. "We got some cash, even made a pit stop for some food, among other things." The last part of his sentence came out under his breath.

Ryan frowned; no way, Rick wouldn't be that desperate for a hit. He looked across the roof at Rick who had a fresh glassy look to his eyes. He was; he had taken Seth on a drug run. "God damn," he said softly.

"Chill, it's all cool. I got us covered."

He shot Seth a confused look. He what? Before he could ask him anything, Rick slapped his hand on the roof of the car. "Grab the food, boys, we've got pizza and beer for everyone."

"You got the money, right? We should get back." Ryan looked anxiously at the car; freedom was so close.

"Oh I got the money all right, but I think your mom would want you to stay; you haven't seen her in a while."

"We just spent the whole afternoon together," Ryan snapped. "We've got to get home."

Rick rounded the car and looked down on Ryan menacingly. "When are you going to learn? This will always be your home. Now get the damn food and bring it inside before I have to show off my piece to the whole neighborhood."

Rick stood back from Ryan a little but the message was clear. He could do what he said, or do what he said—there was no choice. Avoiding Seth's eyes, he ripped open the back door and grabbed the two pizzas sitting there. This entire situation was spiraling out of his control faster than he'd dreamed. For now his only move was to keep Rick happy and maybe they'd walk out of this in one piece. As Ryan followed Seth inside the house, Rick bringing up the rear, he seriously doubted they'd both be walking out.

/-/

Ryan thought back to this afternoon. He hadn't thought things would get that bad, not really. But then he shouldn't have been surprised—he dragged trouble behind him wherever he went.

Leaning against the wall of his makeshift prison cell, Ryan dropped his head to his hands. Stay here. Don't move. An officer outside the door. He had to find out how Seth was. Let them arrest him again, he didn't care; at this point he didn't think he could get in any more trouble if he tried.

Rushing to the door, Ryan yanked it open only to see a surprised Sandy standing on the other side. He felt his stomach clench as he took in the distraught look on the man's face. He searched for an answer in Sandy's eyes as he asked, "How is he? How's Seth?"

"Ryan."

Sandy's voice was gravelly—like he'd been crying? No, please, no. Ryan wrapped his arms around his chest, backing away slowly. "No, he's fine, he was fine, please."

Sandy wet his lips slowly, mumbling something to the officer standing by his side before entering the room and closing the door behind him.

"I think you should sit down, son."

Ryan backed up until he hit the hospital bed behind him; the bed where he was supposed to be waiting for treatment. He was aware of sitting down, aware of Sandy approaching, but he couldn't hear anything—blood rushed his ears until he swore he was actually going deaf. He'd faced a lot of pain in his day—his dad leaving, his mom kicking him out—but nothing had ever cut through him like the look on his foster father's face did at that moment; the look that said nothing was ever going to be the same again.

/tbc/