“And you with them,” Tom said.

Graham nodded. “I need to talk to you, Tom. Outside. He says he hasn’t taken any drugs, any alcohol,” Graham told the EMTs. “I can’t be sure. He has before.”

“That’s a lie!”

“Easy now, Zane.”

Zane recognized the EMT—Nate, a friend of Dave’s. “I didn’t do this. I swear to God I didn’t do this.”

“Okay, son, we’re going to take care of you now.”

Zane just closed his eyes. “I didn’t do this.”

“You’re not authorized to administer any pain medication,” Graham said as he walked out with Tom. “You need to do a tox screen. He can’t be trusted.”

“I don’t do drugs.” No tears now, only hopeless fatigue. “I don’t drink. You’re off the team if you do drugs or alcohol. We’re going to States.”

It hurt, all over again it hurt, so he was thrown back to December 23. But he got some relief when they stabilized his arm, his ankle.

They got him on the gurney, started to roll him out. Tom came back in, face grim. “I need to cuff him.”

“Jesus, Chief.” Nate laid a hand on Zane’s good shoulder. “He’s got a broken arm, maybe a shattered elbow. His ankle may have a hairline fracture. Even if not, it’s a major sprain. He couldn’t put weight on it. He’s concussed, he’s shocky. Where the hell is he going to go?”

“It’s procedure.” With that, Bost stuck out his chin. “He’s charged with assault, three counts.”

Zane stared into Tom’s eyes as Tom cuffed his wrist to the gurney. He saw no mercy there, no shade of doubt. Just as his father had always told him.

Still, he tried. “I didn’t do this.”

“Zane, both your parents tell me the same story. Your sister’s sedated, but I’ll be talking to her tomorrow.” Bost closed a hand over Zane’s as if that would comfort or reassure. “We’re going to get you the help you need.”

They rolled him outside. Neighbors everywhere—he could hear them. Who would believe him? None of them. No one.

He looked up at the sky. The same stars he’d seen with Ashley. But nothing was the same as it had been. Nothing would be the same now.

He heard running feet, started to cringe. His father, coming back to finish him.

No one would stop him.

But it was Dave who gripped his hand.

“Zane. It’s going to be okay.”

“I didn’t hit Britt. I didn’t hurt our mother.”

“Of course you didn’t. Why the hell is he cuffed?”

“You need to step back, Dave.”

“What the hell, Chief? I dropped this kid off not a half hour ago. He and my boy went to the dance at the high school. They had a good time. How’d you get hurt, Zane?”

“He was hitting her again. He started on me first, then he started on her. And this time, he hit Britt. I couldn’t let him. I tried to stop him.”

In Dave’s eyes he saw what he hadn’t seen in Chief Bost’s. He saw belief.

“Where the hell is Graham Bigelow?”

“On his way to the hospital, along with his wife, and his daughter. I don’t like this any more than you, Dave, but Zane’s charged with assault. He’s going to get medical attention, then he’s going to Buncombe.”

“Good Christ, Tom, you know this kid.”

Bost stood his ground. “I know his parents, too, and both of them gave statements. I’ve got no choice, Dave. He’s charged, and Judge Wallace put through the order. You have to step aside.”

“Hell I do. I’m an EMT. I’m going with him. Somebody’s going to stand for this boy.” Dave climbed in the back of the ambulance, helped load the gurney. “Give me his status, Nate.”

Zane fumbled for Dave’s hand. “He’s a monster,” he managed as the doors shut.

“Who is, champ?”

“Graham Bigelow. He’s a monster. Eliza, too. Monsters. Don’t let them hurt my sister.”

“Don’t you worry. You take it easy now. Let us take care of things.”

“Emily.” Someone believed him, Zane thought and closed his eyes again. Someone. It brought him a ray of hope that hurt almost as much as his arm.

“You need to tell Emily. You need to call Emily and tell her what happened. Please.”

“I will. Don’t worry now.”

“She has to take care of Britt. I won’t be able to protect her now.”

He felt tears rising when Dave stroked his head, so turned his face away and let himself drift.

CHAPTER FOUR

Everything blurred. Sirens and lights, voices.

He kept his eyes closed; it hurt less somehow with his eyes closed.

More voices, talking fast, when they took him out of the ambulance, rolled him into the ER. He heard Dave’s voice—Dave stayed with him—rattling off his BP and stuff.

He couldn’t bring himself to care.

Man, he was cold. How did it get so cold?

He just wanted to sleep. He wished he had his baseball. Just something to hold on to.

They’d lied, his parents, the people who were supposed to love him, supposed to look out for him, had lied. He didn’t even know where they’d gone. Maybe they were here, at the hospital—but not handcuffed to a gurney.

Maybe they’d come here because, for the first time in his memory, Graham had struck Eliza in the face. And Zane knew why. He’d hit her where it showed because he’d lie. They’d lie and say Zane had hit his own mother.

And Britt.

His eyes flashed open. His cuffs rattled as he tried to sit up. “Britt. He hurt Britt.”

“Take it easy, Zane.” To reassure, to monitor his pulse, Dave put a hand on his wrist. “We need to get you into X-ray.”

“He hit her, he hit her. She called for help. I heard her, and tried to stop him. He knocked me down the stairs, then he dragged her out, gave her something. You have to find out how bad he hurt her. Where is she?”

“I’ll find out,” Dave promised. “I got a hold of Emily, called her on the way in like you asked. She’s coming. And I called in a favor. We’re going to have Dr. Marshall take care of your arm, your ankle. She’s a hell of a bone doc. She’s the best.”

“We’re going to States. He said I was four minutes late coming home from the dance. Grounded. No baseball.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake.” Dave scrubbed his hands over his face, took a long breath. “You have to tell the police everything you’ve told me.”

“I tried. They don’t believe me. Just like he said. He’s important. I’m nothing.”

“I don’t want to hear that bullshit out of you.” Dave leaned down so their faces were close. “You stay tough, Zane. You stay strong. Look at my face, look in my eyes. I believe you, and I’m going to do everything I can for you. First, we’re going to deal with what we’ve got. We’re going to get you fixed up.”

“They’re going to put me in jail. You have to look out for Britt. She won’t have anybody but Emily. And they don’t let her come around much.”

“I’m on it.”

Zane looked around the room, just a curtain to block it off, all the sounds of the ER outside. He kept his voice low. “You have to get into my house when they’re not there. Take my house key. It’s in my pocket.”

“Why?”

“I wrote it all down. I’ve been writing it down for a long time. In notebooks. They’re behind the vent over my desk. Maybe they’ll believe it if it’s all written down.”

“How long has—” Dave cut himself off as the curtain was pulled back. “Looks like it’s picture-taking time.” But he slid a hand in the pocket of Zane’s suit pants, palmed the key.

They took him to X-ray—with one of the officers lingering.

Afterward, they wheeled him back, but this time to a treatment room with a door. And the officer right outside.

The doctor came in. She made Zane think of a barrel—short, stocky. She had her hair, a lot of gray in it, tied back in a braid.

“Hey, Zane. I’m Dr. Marshall.” She picked up his chart. “Let’s have a look at things.” Her eyes, dark as a crow’s, narrowed, then she flicked them at Dave. “Do you know why Zane hasn’t been given any pain medication?”

“His father said he might be on drugs. He’s not, but they won’t give him anything until they get the tox back.”

“I’ve just looked at it. He’s clean. Goddamn it—Sorry, kid.”

She slapped open the door again, yelled for a nurse, started barking out orders like a general. General Barrel.

And in a few minutes, everything went light and easy.

“His fingers are numb,” Dave murmured. “The skin at the elbow’s cold.”

“I’m reading the chart, Dave. Okay, Zane, here’s the good news. Your ankle’s not broken. You’ve got a nasty sprain, some torn ligaments. We’re going to keep treating that with ice, rest, elevation, give you a nice boot for compression. I’m going to give you a list of what to do, how to do it. In a few days, we’ll start some PT.”