Page 32 of Lucky Boys
Brooks was focused on his phone, so I made sure to pay attention to our surroundings. The woods were pretty dense, so if anyone came at us from either side, it wouldn’t be in a vehicle. I liked our odds against that. My biggest worry now was that they’d come from both ways and trap us. The driveway was too narrow for two cars to pass side by side. If that happened, we’d have to fight.
Brooks was frowning at his phone. “D said everything has been quiet since the cleanup crew left. No one else has—wait, he’s typing again.”
“Fuck, he said someone tampered with the cameras. Be careful, Mav.”
I grunted. “Is anyone here now?”
Brooks shook his head. “He’s saying the glitch was 24 hours ago. So if they are, they’re likely holed up in the house.” He looked at me. “Should we turn back?”
It wouldn’t be easy turning around where we were, and I didn’t feel totally comfortable reversing half a mile down the driveway without knowing what to expect. Our best bet was to keep going and hope we weren’t driving into a trap.
I shook my head. “No. But just stay alert and be ready to take the wheel if I say. Unless you’d rather do the shooting.”
Brooks made a funny sound in the back of his throat I couldn’t begin to explain. “Nah, I’ll leave the shooting to the fucking sniper, thanks. But I can drive like a fucking boss, and I know this property inside and out. You can trust me.”
For some reason, I knew I could. Usually, I’d be nervous working with someone new, especially if they didn’t have this kind of training. Brooks had been in the life since he’d been a toddler, but he’d dealt with theft, mostly. Sneaking in and out without anyone noticing. I doubted he had much experience in this kind of situation.
But I could tell Brooks was solid. He had good instincts, and despite that innate wildness that always surrounded him, I knew he’d follow my lead and have my back.
The rest of the drive was tense and slow going. I didn’t want to decelerate completely—moving targets are harder to hit—but still needed to be cautious enough to be able to pay attention. Brooks pulled out a knife and flicked it open. From the rainbow glint of the blade, I could see it was the one Luca had given him for his birthday three years ago.
It took me off guard. I had seen it when Luca had had it specially made for him, but I’d kind of assumed after theshitshow that night, Brooks had tossed it or at least packed it up. But no, he had it on him, and by the comfortable way he held it, I’d bet anything he typically did.
The house was silent when we finally arrived there, and there were no cars or other vehicles. It was possible they were hiding in the back, but nothing I could see.
I pulled the car in front of the house and put it in park. Brooks’s breath hitched. “Fucking fuck!”
The passenger door flew open, and I just grabbed his arm before he stormed out. I got it. His front door had been kicked in, shattered to pieces. Holes lined the porch steps like someone had taken a hammer to them.
“Wait, Brooks. We go in together. Don’t let your emotions get the best of you.”
Brooks sucked a breath through his teeth, his eyes narrowed, but after a second, his posture relaxed and he nodded. I let go of his arm. He got out of the car, but instead of tearing into the house, he waited for me, chest heaving but holding his place.
I shut the car door, Glock at the ready, and gave Brooks a nod of approval. He smiled at me like I’d just given him the world. Fuck. I quickly shut those feelings off and focused on clearing the house.
“Stay behind me. If anything looks off, let me know.”
“Yes, sir.” I faltered, only for a second. He wouldn’t be the first guy to call me that, nor the last, but hearing it out of Brooks’s lips, it invoked a reaction that wasn’t appropriate for now.Shut it down, Sommerfield. You can jump the boy later.
I walked into the house, comforted by Brooks’s quiet footfalls behind me.
It turned out there was no need for Brooks to confirm if anything was different. The house had been totally destroyed.
The pullout, where, for some reason, the two of them seemed to sleep, had been cut to shreds, the sheets in pieces, and thestuffing and springs littering the floor. The sides and cushions were all equally destroyed. A coat closet had been torn apart, shredded jackets, sliced up boots, a vacuum pulled apart.
Brooks stood numb in the middle of the room. I watched helplessly as his eyes fell onto a small plant that was on a shelf. The dirt had been dumped on the floor and heeled into the carpet. I walked past a shattered TV and smashed video game console and into the kitchen. The house seemed empty, so I didn’t think the threat was still here, but I needed to clear it before I could relax enough to focus on Brooks.
The kitchen wasn’t any better. Tupperware containers had been dumped on the floor, flour and sugar sacks cut open. Dishes were shattered everywhere. The fridge was on its side. Drinks had been poured over all the surfaces. The shelves in the cabinets and pantry had been torn out.
I headed to the back of the house, only slightly surprised Brooks was following me. He hadn’t said a word, just walked silently, his grip on his blade way too tight.
The home gym was just as bad as everything else. The benches had all been sliced open. The weights had been tossed into walls, leaving massive holes. Anything that could be easily destroyed had been. All their clothes were also in tatters on the floor. Brooks bent down and picked up . . . something. I frowned and looked down. It was multicolored beads.
“This was my first bracelet. Pops gave it to me when I was like, five. It’s not anything special. It was from Claire’s, but . . .” But it was special to Brooks. He fiddled with the bracelets on his arm before dropping the beads and walking out of the room. I stepped over them, careful not to step on them, and followed.
Brooks walked out and immediately went to Diego’s office. I should probably have made him wait, but I didn’t have it in me. I followed, ready to intercede if I had to.
Diego had taken most of this stuff with him, so it wasn’t in as bad a shape as the others. Anything left had been torn apart, and the desks physically broken up into pieces, which felt unnecessary. Brooks picked up a shattered picture frame that held a torn photo that looked like it had him, Diego, and their parents standing in front of a lake. They were younger, teenagers likely, and so happy.
