Page 73 of No Saint
“Knowledge is power, Wolf.”
I pointed to the silhouette of a barn halfway through the field. “We just have to make it there.”
Jade mumbled something about releasing fear and embracing courage as we made our way through the grass. Halfway to the barn, she let go of my shirt and grabbed my arm so hard her nails dug into my skin. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
“That.”
“There’s—” The rumble of an engine rose above the chirp of crickets and rustle of grass.
When I looked behind us, headlights cut across the field. “Shit.”
Before I could tell Jade to run, she was gone. At least she had some survival instincts.
I chased after her, shocked that I, of all people, struggled to catch up. She ducked inside the barn, and I followed, sucking in a mouthful of dust as I came face-to-face with a wall of hay bales stacked to the roof. “Where the hell did you go?”
I thought I heard her whisper, “Here.” But I had no idea where “here” was. Once I’d caught my breath, I could clearly hear hers. I followed them, barely able to squeeze down the side of the stacked bales to the far corner of the building. She’d wedged herself between the bales and the metal barn siding. And damn, did she look freaked out.
“What are you doing?”
“Hiding!”
The roar of the engine grew louder. Before I could say another word, Jade had grabbed the bailing twine. “It’s legal to shoot trespassers,” she blurted while hauling herself up the bales.
The engine revved, followed by the sound of tires spinning out over grass. When headlights cut through the narrow gap, I wedged myself farther into the small space. Maybe getting on top of the stack wasn’t the worst idea after all.
I grabbed the twine and hoisted myself up, coughing when I crawled over the edge of the prickly hay. The rusted, holey metal roof was only inches above my head. I army-crawled through patches of moonlight to where Jade lay on her back, her chest rising on heavy swells. The girl was not cut out for a life of crime, that much was obvious. This was nothing. Hendrix and I had once been chased by a man in whitey-tighties and a shotgun. Had she been there, she probably would have had a heart attack.
“You tryna’ steal my heifers?” a man who sounded like he’d smoked two packs of cigarettes a day for forty years shouted. “Igot a shotgun. You best git outta here, or I’ll shoot yer raggedy asses!” Footsteps came from somewhere in the barn.
Jade’s hand latched onto mine. “What if he comes up here?” Panic laced her hushed voice.
“He won’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Have I ever let anything happen to you, Jade?” I whispered.
“No.”
The footsteps outside grew louder, then stopped. A beam of light shone into the barn, and Jade’s grip on my hand tightened.
“Damn kids.” The light moved around the inside of the barn for a few more seconds, and I held my breath. “I’m gonna find your asses.” His footsteps retreated seconds before the deafening blast of a shotgun rang out.
Jade jumped, letting out a slight yelp.
If this were how I went out, from trying to steal a tractor, I would be sorely disappointed. Thankfully, a few seconds later, a car door slammed shut, the engine revved, and then disappeared into the distance.
Jade blew out a breath. “My life has been so quiet without you. Chased by police, almost shot at…”
“You do realize you getting chased by the police had nothing to do with me?”
“The only times I’m threatened with death involve you. Like that time at Crooked Tree, when Hobo Jim shot your taillight out for trespassing, and—” she froze.
“What?”
“Squeaking and rustling…” Her attention snapped toward the dark hay bales across the barn. “Oh my God, it’s a rat.”
