 
The Logoria Series

Book 5

Why Did You Hurt Me?

Copyright © 2008 Phylicia Joannis

All Rights Reserved

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

**Table of Contents**

Prologue

Chapter One: A Living Nightmare

Chapter Two: Change

Chapter Three: The Master's Plan

Chapter Four: The Meeting

Chapter Five: Suspicious Activity

Chapter Six: Desperate

Chapter Seven: One Door Opens...

Chapter Eight: On The Run

Chapter Nine: The Heart of the Matter

Chapter Ten: Doubts

Chapter Eleven: Spring Fever

Chapter Twelve: Truth

Chapter Thirteen: Stick to the Plan

Chapter Fourteen: Bitter Harvest

Chapter Fifteen: X Marks the Spot

Chapter Sixteen: Trapped!

Chapter Seventeen: Visions

Epilogue

Author Links

#  PROLOGUE

"Johnny," Martin begins, but before he can say any more Johnny swings hard at Martin's jaw. The blow sends Martin to the ground. He can taste the blood as his teeth drive deeply into his tongue. He feels his temper flicker but closes his eyes and remembers his God.

"Come on, Martin!" Johnny begins spewing profanities at him, readying himself for Martin's return swing.

Martin gets up slowly, wiping the blood from his mouth. "Johnny, I only have one thing to say to you."

Johnny stiffens, then raises his fists high. "Yeah, what's that?"

Martin looks at him intently. "I'm sorry."

Johnny shakes his head in disbelief. "Shut up and fight me!"

"No," Martin says. "I was wrong, and I'm sorry." Martin notices the swelling around Johnny's face and knuckles hasn't gone down. He watches the emotions playing out on Johnny's face, and, for a moment, their eyes connect.

"What's your problem, West?" Johnny snaps suddenly. "You think I'm afraid of you? I'm not afraid of you, so fight!"

Martin stands resolute.

Johnny continues. "You think you're better than everyone else? You think no one can touch you?" Johnny pushes Martin. "Come on!"

Martin takes a step back and finds his balance, but doesn't retaliate. Johnny is enraged and launches a verbal assault. After each, angry, hate-filled word, Johnny looks at Martin, as if hoping to press some button to trigger a reaction. But Martin doesn't move. He suffers the attack in silence, refusing to fight back.

Johnny, seeming to have run out of insults, spits in Martin's face, shoves him to the ground, and storms off. Martin gets up, wipes his face with his sleeve, and walks home. He knows who has truly won this fight.

He'll soon discover there are more to come.

#  CHAPTER ONE:

# A Living Nightmare

It's happening again.

Johnny hears his stepfather before he actually sees him, but Charles Reese has always been a loud man. His SUV pulls into the driveway with a hard screech; Johnny's brothers, Mark and Matt, always scamper away when they hear that sound. Johnny taught them to.

His mother is examining the bruises on his face when Mr. Reese comes in. He grunts in greeting before taking in the scene in the kitchen.

"Why is my wife hanging over my son when she should be hanging over me?" he bellows into the air. Mrs. Reese quickly leaves Johnny to greet her husband. Mr. Reese pushes her away when he sees Johnny's face.

"What happened?" he demands.

"It's nothing!" Mrs. Reese interjects. "Johnny just got into a little fight at school."

"A fight?" Mr. Reese looks at his wife, then at Johnny, his face drawn in a tight line. He narrows his eyes at Johnny. "Did you win?" he asks menacingly.

"Of course!" Johnny replies quickly.

"Hmph," Mr. Reese frowns. "What were you fighting for?"

"I had someone get in my face," Johnny stammers. "That's all."

"About what?" Mr. Reese asks as Mrs. Reese pulls his coat from his shoulders and puts it in the closet. Johnny mumbles a reply and Mr. Reese stalks over to him and grabs a fistful of his hair.

"Speak up when I talk to you!" he growls.

"Yes sir," Johnny rasps quickly, wincing from the sharp tug. Mr. Reese releases him and continues speaking, but the words are muted. The room fades and Johnny closes his eyes, hoping the nightmare is over.

It isn't.

Johnny opens his eyes again, and he's in the kitchen, drinking a glass of water.

His stepfather comes in, agitated. His eyes are bloodshot and his face is splotchy. Johnny guesses his stepfather's been drinking. He knows what his stepfather is like sober. Mr. Reese is ten times worse when he's not. Mr. Reese is seething, and he's after Johnny. Why he's after him is unclear, but the reason never really matters, anyway.

"Come here, Johnny!" his stepfather slurs. "Get over here, and let me teach you how to fight!"

Johnny feels his heart drop into his gut. His stepfather is in one of his moods. Mr. Reese continues to stumble towards Johnny until they are nose to nose. His breath reeks of alcohol. Johnny briefly looks into his stepfather's eyes, and the anger there terrifies him. His stepfather is out for blood. A sudden blow to the side of his face is just the beginning. It stings like fire, but the pain is nothing compared to the next one, launched into his gut. Johnny doubles over, unable to breathe.

"The next time you lie to me, you'd better make sure you got some _real_ good friends to take care of you!" Mr. Reese growls. Johnny nods in compliance, but Mr. Reese isn't satisfied. He slams Johnny into the wall, knocking glass to the floor.

Johnny yelps as Mr. Reese tosses him into another wall. The thrashing and yelling continue and Johnny feels outside of himself, watching the rest of the scene unfold. He sees his mother run out of her room. He sees himself, coiled in fear as his stepfather towers over him. The room shifts again and Johnny knows he is dreaming. But the memories are no dream.

"What's going on, Charles?" Mrs. Reese looks at Johnny and then at Mr. Reese.

"You raised a liar, that's what," Mr. Reese snarls. Johnny's heart beats faster Mr. Reese advances towards him again. Mr. Reese pulls Johnny up by his shirt, and leans in close.

"Next time you wanna fight the DA's son, you'd better win!" Mr. Reese grunts. "You've embarrassed this family by losing to the likes of him! His father is too smug for his own good. You find that West brat and put him in his place. You hear?" Mr. Reese raises his fist to hit Johnny again.

"Charles." Mrs. Reese tugs softly on his arm. "Let's go to bed."

Mr. Reese looks at his wife. She smiles at him and angles her head towards their room.

Mr. Reese grins, and Johnny is quickly forgotten. As Mrs. Reese coaxes him into their room, she glances back at Johnny, pleading with her eyes. Johnny gets the message and darts out the front door towards the neighborhood park.

Everything clouds again and Johnny's nightmare takes him to another place and time. Johnny sees his seven-year-old self, face down on the floor of the garage. Cold terror stills his heart as he watches himself screaming and crying out for help, but he knows no one can hear him. No one except his father. No, not his father; Charles Reese, the most evil man alive.

•••

Late Sunday afternoon, Johnny stares at his computer. He wanted to sleep in, but his nightmares ended any hope of that. Johnny shivers. The nightmares come more frequently now; some nights he can't sleep at all. Living it the first time around was hard enough; the dreams are so vivid he can feel everything. Every bruise; every cut; every blow.

Johnny rubs his eyes and stares at the IM conversation on his computer. He's been chatting back and forth with his friend, Frank, for a few minutes now. He told Frank he needed something, anything, to take his mind off of his life, and Frank happily sent him a link. Johnny doesn't usually watch anything pornographic on his computer, his brothers and mother use the computer from time to time, but today he's willing to make an exception.

Johnny clicks the link and allows himself to enjoy the company of women he knows he'll never meet. After about an hour, Johnny checks his watch. His mom should be home soon with the kids.

His last encounter with Charles Reese had left him with a scar on his left hand. It hadn't bled much, so Johnny was surprised it left a scar at all. His stepfather would never allow him to go to the hospital, so his mother had patched him up. Anyone who asked him about it received a fictitious story involving a basketball scuffle. Johnny's pale physique would raise a few eyebrows, but never any questions. In his neighborhood, people believe what they need to and mind their own business – a fact that works favorably for Mr. Reese.

Making up lies for people who don't really care feels pathetic to Johnny, but his mother insists it's the only option they have. Johnny frowns. Lying for Mr. Reese is only hurting their family, but he has no choice. Without him, they have nothing. Mr. Reese sells insurance and makes his own schedule. He travels a lot, so he isn't home much. But when he is...

Johnny snaps his head at the sound of the front door and quickly closes the window with the videos. He knows at any moment his twin brothers will burst into the room, requesting his immediate attention.

The boys are nearly seven; his baby sister is three. His mother took them out for the afternoon in an attempt to brighten their spirits. Sure enough, Mark and Matt both enter the room, without knocking, and run straight to Johnny.

"We went to the park!" Mark exclaims.

"We saw da fish in da wader!" Matt beams. Matt has a speech impediment and pronounces his t's as d's.

"Is that so?" Johnny asks enthusiastically. "And what else did you see?"

They grin, delighted that Johnny is interested in what they did. Mark speaks first.

"We saw a lot of pretty birds, and the ducks, and a man was fishing, and I got to touch the water, and-"

"And we saw a dog go poop!" Matt interrupts. Mark's eyes grow wide with annoyance, but then soften as he remembers the scene with his brother.

"Yeah, that's right!" Mark comments. "The dog was just sniffing and sniffing and-"

"And we didn't think id would NEVER go!" again, Matt interrupts. "But id did!"

"Hey I'm telling the story!" Mark whines. He looks to Johnny for support. "Johnny, can you _please_ tell Matt to stop interrupting me when I'm telling the story?"

Johnny can't contain his grin. Seeing his brothers so happy is refreshing, as though their biggest problem is one not letting the other finish his sentences.

"Tell you what," Johnny muses. "Why don't you both go write down what you did today in your journals?"

Both Mark and Matt look at their big brother with admiration; to them, his idea is pure genius. They scramble out of his room towards their own, tumbling over each other as they discuss what each will put in his journal. Johnny's mother peeks into his room after they leave.

"They had fun today, didn't they?" Johnny comments.

Mrs. Reese laughs. "Yes they did! Susan's asleep on the couch. After about an hour in the sun and an ice cream cone, she was finished."

"I wish it were like that all the time." Johnny says quietly. Mrs. Reese wrings her hands nervously and changes the subject.

"I still don't understand why you keep your room so dark, Johnny." she points at his walls, all painted black.

Johnny frowns. "I don't know. Why do you stay married to that –"

"Johnny, he's your father!" Mrs. Reese states firmly.

"He's not my father, Mom," Johnny corrects her.

"He may as well be, Johnny." Mrs. Reese looks at him. "He isn't perfect, honey, but he takes care of us. All of us."

Johnny points out the purple bruise on his mother's shoulder, concealed by her blouse. "Is that how he takes care of you?"

Mrs. Reese shakes her head and pulls the top of her blouse closer to her neck. "Johnny," she sighs, "you don't understand. The world is a very hard place. Sometimes things happen that aren't fair, but don't disrespect your father, and don't talk like that in front of the kids. I won't have it. He's not perfect, but without him there is no 'us'. Do you hear me?"

Johnny frowns, but he knows all too well what she means. She met Mr. Reese when Johnny was five. They'd been evicted from their home and had no place to go. Mr. Reese had taken them in and married his mother. They didn't have much, but it was certainly more than they'd had before.

Charles Reese is very good at tormenting them. He makes enough money for them to live some place nicer than the East side of Mogis Hills, but Mr. Reese prefers to keep them here, isolated and controlled. The people of Mogis Hills are too busy with their own problems to care about the plight of the Reese family. Johnny wishes there were some way he could take care of his mother without Charles Reese. But she's right. For all practical purposes, he is his father. He adopted Johnny and gave him his name.

Mrs. Reese sighs. "I'm tired, so I'm going to go lay down for a bit. Keep an eye on your brothers and Susan, ok?"

Johnny nods and stands to kiss his mom on the cheek. He loves his mother more than anyone else in the world. Next in line are Susan, Mark and Matt. There has to be a better way for them. He watches his mother leave. She does look tired, and not just from the day. Her life has always been hard. Johnny knows that much. But his life has been hard, too. If she only knew...

Johnny hears his computer ping and an instant message pops onto the screen. It's Frank.

Italian509: Check out the site?

Johnnyboy: Yep. It helped, but I need something else.

Italian509: Say the word.

Johnnyboy: ...I need to get rid of someone.

Italian509: The Master may be able to help. Don't forget about tomorrow night. 12:30.

Johnnyboy: Do I need the book?

Italian509: Of course! Bring the chant book.

#  CHAPTER TWO:

# Change

Max grunts as he pulls out his suitcase from the trunk of the car. He takes a long look at the surrounding houses. Their house by the trailer park hadn't been much, but this? Mogis Hills makes their little cottage look like a castle. A loud pop catches Max off guard, and he drops his suitcase. His father runs out of the house in alarm.

"What happened, Max?" he cries. "What was that?"

Shortly afterward, three children jump from their hiding place behind a bush. They toss something at Max's feet, and it pops as it lands on the ground. Max jerks his feet and glares at the children.

Firecrackers. They're throwing firecrackers at him. The children look like they've been rolling around in dirt, and they have no shoes on. One of them is missing teeth in the front, and they all look around nine or ten. All seem thoroughly tickled by the success of their prank and make sure that Max knows it.

They look like little demons to Max, with their dark eyes and impish faces, laughing at his expense. Max scowls, picks up his suitcase, and trudges on toward the house. A deep red stains his face as the young children continue to laugh at him.

"Kids," Mr. Shaw laughs nervously. "Just some kids." Max knows already that he is going to hate it here, but they have no choice. Mr. Shaw is broke and unemployed, and they were evicted from their home. The home his mother worked so hard to keep is gone. Max looks up at the porch before entering. There are three other housing units connected to this one. The inside boasts all the luxury of a cardboard box.

"It's only temporary, Max," his father assures him. "Just give me some time to get back on my feet."

Max nods, but internally he has his doubts. Who knows how long that will take? By the time Mr. Shaw gets his life together Max may already be out of the house. Still, things have gotten better since his mother died. His father has been receiving counseling for his alcohol addiction, they both go to grief counseling, and he's been job-hunting more aggressively. Max's probation officer, Mr. Kent, had explained to him that change doesn't happen overnight. Max understands it could take his father years to bounce back.

Max is having trouble coping, too, but he is doing much better than his father. He knows God has his hand on his life despite everything. Max can remember a time when all he cared about was his next party, or his next drink. Now his primary concerns are helping his father, working at the children's hospital, and getting good grades in school. He hopes, if he works hard enough, he can get a scholarship and go to college. His life has completely changed, and though Max appreciates the wisdom he now possesses, he still misses his mother.

Max sighs as he looks at the front of the house. There are only two windows in the front, and they both have bars on them. Max can't think of anything in this neighborhood worth looking at anyhow, but it's still depressing. It doesn't look like there will be much sunshine in this place.

At least he will be distracted by his volunteer work at the children's hospital. St. Christopher's is further away now, but Martin volunteered to drive him there after school, and Max can take the bus when Martin can't pick him up. His community service hours are almost up, and after that Max hopes to get a job to help around the house.

Max hears another pop, but it isn't like the firecrackers the little demon children threw at him. It's louder - much louder - and is coming from somewhere down the street. A third pop prompts Mr. Shaw to grab Max and yank him inside.

"Get inside the house, Max!" he orders.

"But all of our stuff isn't-"

"We'll get it later, just get inside," Mr. Shaw pushes him in further and closes the door. Max prays that this is only temporary.

•••

School just isn't the same without Max. Martin doesn't understand why Max has to go to Wellis High simply because he lives on the opposite side of the train tracks. He'd pleaded with his father to get the school board to change their policy about jurisdiction, but his pleas were in vain.

"It's out of my hands, Martin," his father had said.

"He lives in Mogis Hills!" Martin had exclaimed. "I know lots of kids who live in Mogis Hills, and they go to LHS!"

"Yes, but Mogis Hills is split by the old train tracks, Martin." his father had replied. "The jurisdiction was drawn based on property to the east and west of those tracks."

"The jurisdiction was drawn by bigots!" Martin retorted. "Somebody should do something, Dad! You should do something!"

Mr. West had sighed. "I'm sorry, Martin. I tried, but I'm not on the school board. I know how close you and Max are, but there's nothing else I can do."

Martin had been angry with his father, but only for a short while. The old Martin wanted to find out who was on the school board and pound them, or maybe their kids instead, but he knew that wouldn't change anything anyway. And it isn't as if he and Max can't see each other anymore. Though Mogis Hills is a rough neighborhood, Martin has been there before with less honorable motives.

His mind switches gears as he thinks of Johnny Reese, the boy he fought the prior year. A lot of time has passed since then, and a lot of things have happened, but Martin still feels uneasy. Their last encounter wasn't pleasant, but there's something else. Something Martin can't put his finger on.

"Hey!" Jennifer interrupts his thoughts as she plops her tray next to his. Martin forgot he was in the lunchroom. She gives him an odd look. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, I was just thinking," Martin replies, glum. Jennifer looks at him knowingly.

"Is it Max?" she asks.

Martin nods and Jennifer bites her lip, considering her next words. There is no love lost between her and Max, but she knows that Max and Martin are as close as brothers.

"Well, maybe it's for the best!" she replies cheerily.

"Yeah, I'm sure _you're_ thrilled about it," Martin comments without enthusiasm.

"Hey," Jennifer says with an injured tone. "I didn't say that."

"But you were thinking it, right?" Martin rolls his eyes in irritation. "Max hasn't done anything to you, but you still talk as if he's beneath you!"

"I didn't say that!" Jennifer looks at him in surprise.

"Yeah, well you didn't have to say anything," Martin continues. "It's written all over your face!"

Martin bangs his fist on the table and turns to face Jennifer. "You know what? You may as well be one of those snobby, self-righteous members of the school board."

Jennifer begins to protest, but Martin cuts her off.

"And do you wanna know something else? You're all a bunch of hypocrites! You get ahead just a little bit," Martin places his fingers together to express just how little, "and then you wanna act like you're better than everybody else! As if you've got something that no one else has!"

Jennifer's cheeks turn red, but still Martin continues.

"Let me ask you something? What makes you think you've got the right to tell someone 'hey, you live on the wrong side of the tracks, which happens to be the lower class side, so you can't go to our school'? Hm?"

Jennifer begins to reply, but Martin cuts her off again.

"My parents came from nothing, and they taught me not to judge people by where they come from. And you know something? I wouldn't trade Max for half of you self-righteous hypocrites!"

"I am not a hypocrite!" Jennifer's emotions begin to flare.

"Oh no?" Martin gives her a sideways look. "I'll give you a perfect example, Jen. Tammie McLeod."

"Martin, that's not fair!"

"As soon as she made a mistake you threw her away," Martin states scornfully. "She just wasn't good enough to be Jennifer Smith's friend, was she? You treated her like crap, Jen. You threw away countless years of friendship because she made one mistake. But you know what? The way you treat people like Max is way worse than Tammie having a baby out of wedlock."

"And what about you, Martin?" Jennifer responds. "How can you judge me when you–" Jennifer stops midsentence.

"Go on, say it," Martin provokes her, but Jennifer remains silent. No matter what, she refuses to go back and forth with him like this. She won't give him the satisfaction.

Martin fumes. Jennifer doesn't have to finish her sentence for Martin to feel the sting. He'd told her everything about him, even what happened with Johnny, and she'd said it didn't matter to her. Now she's throwing it back in his face as ammunition. Trusting her was a mistake. Martin clenches his fists as his temper reaches the boiling point. He wants to hit someone, or something – anything. He needs to leave before he finds a target. He narrows his eyes at Jennifer, grabs his tray and walks off. He throws his half-eaten food away and slams the tray into a sink.

Jennifer looks down at her food, but she can't see it; her eyes are too blurry with tears. How could he say those things to her? She'd barely spoken six words to him, and he'd launched a nuclear assault against her. For a moment, she thought he might actually take a swing at her. He has a temper; that much she knows, but she's never seen him act out like this. She hates to let anyone see her cry, especially over a member of the male species. She drums the table with her fingers in frustration, contemplating her next move. A few tears escape and she quickly dabs her eyes with a napkin.

Seconds later she's tossing her lunch in the garbage, but she gently places her tray in the sink and smiles at the cleaning staff as she passes by. Her mother taught her, among other things, not to take out her feelings on other people, but to have it out with whoever was really bothering her. She needs to have it out with Martin, though she's tempted to do the exact opposite and never speak to him again. Deep down, she knows she cares about him too much.

At least Tammie will be able to talk to her about it. She knows she handled Tammie's situation badly, but she's reconciled with her since then. Martin's words hurt, but he was wrong. And he'd gone too far.

#  CHAPTER THREE:

# The Master's Plan

"So, what do I do after this?" Max asks as he dumps the ground turkey into the skillet.

Tammie smiles at him from the sink as she fills a pot with water. "We're going to put this on the stove, add a little salt, and let it boil. Pass me the lid?"

Max grabs a lid from the cabinet and hands it to Tammie. "What's that for?"

"To speed up the boiling process!" Tammie hums as she makes her way to the stove. "A little trick my grandma taught me."

Max shrugs and sighs as Tammie passes him a tomato, a cucumber, and a green pepper from their grocery bag. "Are these supposed to speed up the boiling process, too?"

"Nope!" Tammie laughs. "You cut these up for the salad."

Max makes a face and grabs a knife. "You know, my dad and I aren't really big on vegetables."

"Rinse those before you cut them," Tammie instructs him. "And I asked you what you wanted in your salad, but you told me 'whatever.'"

"Yeah, that was _before_ I found out I'd be cutting them myself." Tammie laughs as she waddles over to the table and pulls out a chair.

"You okay?" Max asks, watching her carefully.

"Mhm," Tammie smiles and pats her belly. "But the kitchen is way too small for both of us to be cutting stuff. I'll slice the bread here."

Max hands her the loaf of Italian bread and a knife before resuming his duties. "I really appreciate you doing this for me, Tammie. My dad and I suck at cooking. Besides, today was his first day at his new job, and I wanted to surprise him."

"Anytime!" Tammie shrugs as she slices into the bread. "By the time I'm finished with you, you'll be cooking as well as me!"

"Let's aim a little lower and hope I don't burn the house down," Max smirks. "Veggies are done! Now what?"

"Take the lettuce from the sink," Tammie points. "I already washed it and chopped it. Mix it in a bowl with the veggies. And don't forget to stir that ground meat!"

"Ok!" Max obeys and stirs the meat before mixing the salad. Tammie finishes the bread and places it in a basket on the table. "You can take the leftover bread and put it in a storage bag so it won't go to waste. Let me show you how to season the meat."

Tammie leaves the table and pulls out the seasonings from the cabinet. "You don't have any Italian seasoning?"

"Salt and pepper is all we got," Max shrugs.

"It'll have to do," Tammie bites her lip. "Not my best work, but it'll still taste good. Especially with the spaghetti sauce."

"So how do I season the meat?" Max asks.

"I'm going to show you the way my grandma showed me when I first learned," Tammie grabs the salt and pours some into Max's hand. "Pour some in your hand, about the size of a dime, for one pound of meat. See?"

"Ok. How do you know it's enough?" Max asks.

"We're going to taste the meat before we add the sauce," Tammie answers.

"Oh, makes sense. Then what?"

"For the other seasonings, in this case the pepper, we'll do four shakes. The main thing you have to worry about is the salt. You can always add more salt, but start small, because you can't take the salt away once it's in there."

"Water's boiling," Max observes. "I should add the pasta now?"

"Yep!" Tammie and Max finish up dinner and set the table just in time for Mr. Shaw's arrival.

"Something smells delicious," Mr. Shaw observes as he walks through the door. "Max, what's this?" Mr. Shaw admires the spread on the table.

"I made dinner!" Max grins. Tammie clears her throat and nudges Max in the ribs. "With help, of course. Dad, this is my friend Tammie."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Shaw," Tammie reaches her hand out, and Mr. Shaw shakes it vigorously.

"Likewise," Mr. Shaw greets. "Thank you, Tammie. I'm sure Max wasn't much help in the kitchen."

Max makes a sound in protest. "Are you kidding me? I've never done so much chopping in my life!"

"I'd say it was about fifty-fifty," Tammie laughs. "He did alright for his first time around. I'd better get going, though."

"No, no, stay and eat with us," Mr. Shaw interjects.

"Sorry, I've got to watch my sibs tonight," Tammie apologizes. "But I hope you enjoy the food!"

"Thanks again, Tammie!" Max walks her to the door and hugs her goodbye. Max returns to the table and Mr. Shaw returns from washing his hands in the kitchen sink.

"I promise it's edible, Dad," Max chuckles as he begins loading his plate.

"It looks really good," Mr. Shaw muses. "Max, is there something you want to tell me?"

"Hmm?" Max looks up with a mouthful of food. "About what?"

"Your friend, Tammie," Mr. Shaw hems. "She's pregnant, isn't she?"

"Yeah," Max shrugs and continues to eat.

"Max, I know your mother and I had this talk with you before, but I think it bears repeating if you're going to have girls over when I'm not home. When boys and girls get together, sometimes things happen..."

Max snaps his head up. "Whoa! Dad, I don't think this conversation is necessary. I asked Tammie to come over because I wanted to have dinner ready when you got here. From now on if I invite her over, it will be after you get home, ok?"

"Fair enough," Mr. Shaw clears his throat and makes his plate. "Just give me a heads up if I'm going to be a grandpa, will you?"

"Dad..." Max rolls his eyes. "I think you're safe."

"Mmm, this is good," Mr. Shaw smiles.

•••

Johnny has heard rumors about this place, but he's never actually been here. He follows slowly as Frank leads him to a rundown shack in the woods behind Logoria Memorial Park. It looks abandoned, the window in the front is cracked, and the door is sitting slightly off its hinge. The only sign of life is a faint light, flitting through the window.

As soon as Frank opens the door, Johnny's nose constricts. The air is thick with body odor, marijuana and sickly-sweet, pungent incense burning in every corner of the room. The shack is larger on the inside than it appears to be from the outside. As they walk down the long, narrow hallway, Johnny hears the faint sound of humming.

The chanting has already begun. Their group has rites of passage; Johnny's invitation tonight is a clear indicator that they think he is ready to become part of the core; part of the brotherhood. His induction into the group tonight will include his recital of the creed and one of the ancient chants found in their chant book. Johnny isn't sure if they're _really_ ancient, but they are required reading to become a part of the core, also known as the S.K.U.L.L.S.

Sons, Kings, United, Loyal, Limitless, Supreme; that's their maxim. Johnny was introduced to the SKULLS only recently. Frank invited him to become part of the group the previous fall. After a humiliating fight with Martin West, and a disappointing rematch, Johnny had accepted.

The core is a family, a unit. They believe that they are all sons of a mighty creator. The faithful are rewarded with kingships and given their own territory to rule. All members of the group are required to be loyal to one another and follow the rules set forth by their king. The chant book provides spells and remedies, and for situations that require more powerful solutions, the kings are called upon for wisdom. Supposedly, a king has direct access to the creator; therefore, a son cannot bypass a king for power. Only a king can instruct a son on the spells of the chant book. The SKULLS are a well-known group in Johnny's area. Along with the benefits, anyone who joins has to accept whatever judgment or punishment a king gives.

Frank leads Johnny down a stairwell, into the basement. There is a door at the bottom. They are about to open it, but a SKULLS member wearing an African tiger mask stops them as soon as they get to the bottom.

"Cite the code!" he demands.

Frank rolls his eyes. "Let us pass, Steve, he's got an appointment."

"Cite it!" he hisses again.

Johnny looks nervously at Frank, unsure of what to do next. Frank mutters a curse and holds up his right hand. "Sons, Kings, United, Loved, Limitless, Supreme! SKULLS forever, may all others burn eternally or conform to this creed."

The tiger-man nods in satisfaction and lets them pass. Immediately, Johnny's eyes dilate and his nose burns as the scent of marijuana attacks his sinuses.

The room is darkly lit, and there are two other SKULLS in the room. One is a young teenage girl. She has on an African mask as well; hers is a bat. She is sitting at the feet of a robed figure; her head is cropped in an angle of pure adoration. Johnny knows the figure before him is the one he came to see tonight.

He is called the Master. He wears no mask, but the hood of his black robe conceals his face. Johnny glances around the room. There are soft cushions on the floor, a large wooden chair where the Master sits, and a three-legged table beside him. Nothing else.

Johnny looks at the table beside the Master. There are three pipes and a syringe sticking out of an ashtray, as well as ashes from the remains of a joint. The Master nods his head slightly and the young girl gets up and walks out of the room. Steve, the tiger-man, follows her, closing the door behind him.

"You have come with an inquiry," the Master states it as a fact.

Johnny clears his throat. "Yes, sir. I um... I have a problem with my fa—"

"First the creed, outsider," the Master hisses menacingly.

Johnny feels the blood drain from his face. A jolt of terror fills his heart as he realizes his mistake. He knows better than to speak to the Master before giving the creed. Frank frowns at Johnny for his blunder, and Johnny looks down in shame. He can't remember the creed...

"I grow impatient!" the Master hisses again.

Johnny is sure that he hears more than just the Master hissing the second time, as if someone or something else is in the room.

The words finally come to him. "To be a Son, to Serve the King, to Unite the Brotherhood, to Love with Blood, to surpass all Limits, to reign Supreme."

The Master nods in satisfaction. "Now the chant," he orders.

Johnny opens the chant book he brought with him and begins reciting the initiation lyrics. The Master's head rolls back, and his body shivers eerily with every stanza Johnny parrots. When Johnny finishes, the Master smiles and waves his hand at Frank, who nods and leaves the room.

"Speak," the Master invites him to bring his request.

Johnny begins again, this time more confident. "I have a problem with my father. Well, he's not really my father, but he married my mother. But he mistreats her. He... " Johnny looks at the scar on his hand, "he mistreats all of us."

The Master grabs a vial out of his robe and taps it on the table. White powder pours out of it. "Why should this concern me?" the Master asks, disinterested.

Johnny stares at him wide-eyed. "Because he hurts us! Last fall, he threw me against a wall and gave me this cut!" Johnny lifts his hand high enough for the Master to see. The scar is visible enough, but the Master squints, as if it were no bigger than a paper cut. "He was mad at me for losing a fight at school."

"If he is a problem, then handle him yourself," the Master states. He adds cruelly, "Perhaps it was a mistake to allow you to become part of the brotherhood. You seem weak." The Master sniffs in the powder with one of the pipes and rolls his head back.

"You didn't make a mistake, Master," Johnny states humbly. "But I lost that fight to Martin West. He's a jock, and-"

The Master snaps his head forward, jerks off his hood and stands to his feet, revealing bloodshot eyes and a massive physique. "Did you say West?" he asks through clenched teeth.

Johnny swallows hard, unsure of what to expect.

"Yeah, Martin West," he replies. The Master's eyes pierce through Johnny's, searching him for some sign of deception. Finally satisfied, he sits down again, returning his hood to its previous position and folding his hands together.

He beckons to Johnny. "Come, my son," he stretches out his hand and motions Johnny forward. Johnny steps forward timidly. "I will help you with your problem, but first, you must do something for me."

Johnny looks at him quizzically. "What can I do for you?" he asks, unsure.

The Master smiles. "Love with blood."

Johnny's breath catches in his throat. Something about the way he spoke sounded deadly. The part of the creed involving "love with blood" usually means some sort of living sacrifice. He can't possibly be asking him to...

"I don't understand," Johnny replies. "What are you saying?"

The Master places his hand on Johnny's shoulder, pushing him closer so that they are face to face. "What are you willing to do to ensure your family's safety?"

Johnny's answer is immediate. "Anything."

The Master smiles. "Good! This is what I need from you."

•••

Jennifer can't take it anymore. She needs to find Martin, tell him exactly what she thinks of him, and let the chips fall where they may. They've spent the last few weeks at odds, and enough is enough. She rehearses what she'll say during volleyball practice. She misses several volleys and is told off at least twice by the team captain, but she just can't focus. Not while her relationship with Martin is in flux.

"Why does everything he says to me get under my skin?" she mutters in the locker room.

She will definitely call him today. No. She'll go to his house and speak to him face to face. His neighborhood is in walking distance, same as hers, so she grabs her book bag and sets off toward the West residence.

•••

When Jennifer arrives she is both disappointed and embarrassed. Mrs. West answers the door.

"Hi, Jennifer!" she chirps. "What can I do for you?"

"Is Martin home?" Jennifer asks. Mrs. West tilts her head in confusion.

"Martin went to Mr. James' house this afternoon," she says. "Didn't he tell you?"

"No," she says slowly. Jennifer's face grows hot, and she kicks herself for not calling first.

"Is everything alright?" Mrs. West asks. "I know Martin's been a little distracted ever since Max moved. Maybe he forgot you were coming?"

"No," Jen shakes her head. "He didn't know I was coming."

"Oh," is all Mrs. West says, but she looks embarrassed for Jennifer.

Jennifer thanks her and walks towards Katalia Falls where her mother and siblings are probably enjoying an afternoon together. On the way there she stops by the public library. She has some research to do for her government class and needs to pick up some books.

#  CHAPTER FOUR:

# The Meeting

Jennifer skims through the "La" authors on the middle shelf until she finds the book she is looking for. She made an alphabetized list of the books she needed so she could navigate the shelves section by section. Next on her list is the "Je" authors, which should be on the next aisle over. She skims through each shelf until she finds the "Je's," reading the names aloud to herself as she goes.

"Jefferson, Jelson, Jemison, Jingle... " Jennifer stops and studies the row again. "Hmm," she muses. She looks at her list again to make sure she wrote the item number down correctly. She decides to give it one more shot.

"C'mon," she says to herself. "Jenkins, Jenkins, where are you?"

She skims the books carefully, reading them slowly as she passes them. "Jefferson, Jelson, Jemison, Jingle, Jinks, Jimmerson, Jemimah- aha!" she laughs triumphantly. The books had been misplaced on the shelf. There are three "Ji's" stuck right in the middle of the "Je's", but they continue on after that.

She continues to scan the shelf until she comes to the last book in that row. It ends with Jengal. Still, no Jenkins. Jennifer blows out a breath in exasperation and looks at the top row of the next shelf. There in the left corner of the top shelf, the very first book, is Jenkins.

"Yes!" she whoops in victory. She walks over to the next row and stretches out her hand to retrieve the book. Her hand, unfortunately, falls short by at least six inches. Jennifer taps her foot in frustration. She tries again, this time getting on the very tips of her toes and jumping up and down, snatching for the book as she leaps. Still, no success.

As a last-ditch effort, she hikes up her left foot and sets it on the second row from the bottom, pushing her weight up as she steps up with her right. She grabs the top shelf with her left hand and pulls herself up further. The shelf creaks underneath her weight and Jennifer panics, releasing her hold on the top shelf and tumbling backward.

She shrieks as she feels herself fall from the shelf but is suddenly caught by two hands connected to two tanned arms. She jerks at the sudden presence and bangs her shin on the wooden shelf. The hands steady her until she gets her footing back and soon they are accompanied by a voice.

"You could have just asked for help, you know," the voice chuckles.

Jennifer turns around to respond, but is startled by who she sees. All she can do is ramble incoherently.

"I was... well... Jimmerson and um... "

She looks around nervously. Someone else had to have heard her shriek. She is sure that any moment now some hardcore librarian will be coming along to kick her out. She puts her face in her hands to cover the redness in her cheeks. This is probably one of the dumbest things she's ever done, and if no one had ever seen her, it would have still been a horrible experience.

The boy continues to stare at her, obviously amused, and Jennifer lifts her head in defiance. How dare he stand there smirking at her! She'd been caught off guard, and he responded with smugness, as though he knew she'd be there making a fool of herself.

"Well, if you saw me struggling, you should have come to help me instead of watching me make a fool of myself!"

The young stops smiling. "Hey, I was minding my own business and just so happened to walk past here as you were, um, falling." He can't resist a snicker.

Jennifer is not amused. She narrows her eyes at him. "Well if you're done having your fun, excuse me," she begins to walk off.

The young man taps her arm softly. "Hey wait a minute, now. I'm sorry. Let's start over." He straightens himself, allowing Jennifer to observe his full form. He is tall and lean. His skin, which is usually deathly pale, is now a light bronze.

Jennifer is used to seeing him dressed in baggy pants with long chains and boots, black fingernail polish and large earrings in his ears, but none of those things are present now, save a small stud in his right ear.

This new look suits him. His nails are clear, with no trace of the black polish. His clothing consists of fitting jeans, a polo shirt, and clean shoes. His smile is warm and inviting, something she'd never expect from him.

He holds out his hand to her. "Let me introduce myself. I'm Johnny Reese. I live in Mogis Hills. I have the same government class with you, as well as English, and I'm doing research for that killer paper. How about you?"

Jennifer knows who he is, and she is certain he knows her as well, but she plays along. "Jennifer Smith. I live in Katalia Falls, I'm dreading the research paper, and I am not good at climbing." she smiles softly.

"See? That wasn't so bad," Johnny smiles at her again. He reaches across her, causing her to have to back away from him. She hadn't realized how close they were standing. He has on some sort of cologne she can't recognize. Whatever it is, it smells good. Johnny grabs the book Jennifer was looking for and hands it to her.

"Truce?" he offers. Jennifer can't stop herself from smiling but tries not to let him see it.

"I guess so," she says slowly. She gives him a serious look. "But swear to me that you will never tell anyone what you witnessed here today."

Johnny salutes and holds up his right hand. "Scout's honor, I will never, ever tell." He smiles at her again, and Jennifer smiles back.

_What am I doing?_ she thinks to herself. Is she flirting with Johnny Reese? Jennifer suddenly feels awkward. "Well, thanks for the book," she says quickly before bolting for the checkout desk.

Johnny opens his mouth to say something, but she doesn't give him a chance. A few minutes later, she flies out the library doors, headed towards Katalia Falls. Just as she turns the corner at the end of the street, she hears Johnny call after her.

"Hey, Jen! Wait up!" he yells. He is running to catch up with her. She stops until he reaches her.

"Hey," he speaks in between breaths. "I wanted to ask you something." Jennifer waits for him to catch his breath.

"Yes?" she asks curiously. Johnny clears his throat.

"Do you mind if I walk you home?" he asks, his breathing more calm. Jennifer is stunned. She had assumed he needed to ask something about the class paper, not her.

"Uh... " she stammers.

"It's all right if you say no," he quickly reassures her.

"No, no, it's okay," Jennifer searches his eyes. He seems sincere, but she barely knows him. What would Martin think? Jennifer's anger returns, this time directed at Martin. Letting Johnny walk her home would probably drive Martin up a wall. Serves him right.

"I'd like that," she replies.

Johnny cocks his head to one side, examining her face.

"Then let me carry these," he smiles. He grabs the books in her hand and her duffel bag with her volleyball equipment. Jennifer feels warmth build inside her as she hands him her bag. She is actually being walked home!

•••

Jennifer can barely contain herself. A few weeks ago, she wouldn't have given Johnny a second glance. But now, standing next to him, having an actual conversation with him, she sees a side of him she hadn't known was there.

"My mom stays at home and takes care of my twin brothers and baby sister." Johnny explains.

"You have _twin_ brothers?" Jennifer asks.

"Yup!" Johnny smiles. "They're a handful too, and they ask a million questions."

Jennifer laughs. "I can't imagine having two little brothers. One is plenty!"

"Yeah, but they keep me on my toes."

"How does your mom do it?" Jennifer asks.

Johnny is thoughtful for a moment. "I don't know, really. Moms just have it like that. Me? I love being around them, and taking them places, and feeding them ice cream. That's fun stuff. It's great! But let them get sick, and I'm completely useless. If they're bleeding or bruised or have a runny nose, I stay away. I can't take it!"

"That's when super mom takes over, huh?" Jennifer giggles.

"Definitely!" Johnny shifts the weight of Jennifer's gym bag and smiles at her.

"What about your dad?" Jennifer asks. "What does he do?"

Johnny stiffens, but only for a moment. Jennifer doesn't seem to notice.

"My dad's a pushy salesman." he shrugs. "He's not home much."

"Oh," Jennifer can tell by his short response that it's a sensitive subject. "Absentee father?" Jennifer offers.

Johnny gives her a short laugh and looks up at her. "Tell me about you, Jen."

"Well, I have one sister and two brothers as well. My older brother, Peter, is in the navy. My younger brother, Shawn, is in elementary school. Becky, my sister, is thirteen going on twenty-five."

"I bet she's fun," he smirks.

"Loads of fun," Jen replies sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "And always so dramatic!" They both laugh and continue telling stories about their siblings until they are in Katalia Falls.

"I didn't expect to get here so soon," Jennifer looks at her watch as they step onto her porch.

"Time flies when you're having fun," Johnny replies. He looks at her again, searching her eyes as he speaks. "Are you having fun, Jen?" he asks.

She smiles and looks down at her feet. "Yeah, this was a lot of fun. I mean," she looks at him playfully, "it's not every day a nice young man asks permission to escort me home."

"You think I'm nice?" Johnny asks.

Jennifer smiles. "Don't you think so? Or was all of this a plot to steal my gym clothes?" She glances at the bag still in his hands.

"I guess I've been found out." Johnny holds up his right hand in surrender after handing Jennifer her books. "I don't read, so you can keep those, but the bag stays with me."

"Hah! I don't believe that!" Jennifer gives him a friendly shove.

"Believe what?" Johnny asks. "That I won't keep the bag?"

"Well, that too," Jennifer laughs. "But I meant that I don't believe you don't read."

"What makes you say that?" Johnny inquires.

"Well, for starters, I met you in the library today. That's a dead giveaway." Jennifer giggles.

Johnny shrugs. "It's a great place to meet pretty girls." Jennifer gives him a look that says she isn't buying his story. Johnny concedes, "Okay, I'll admit it. Yes I do read. But," he adds, "I do really like your bag. Where'd you get it?"

Jennifer looks up in thought. "Hmm, I probably got it at a yard sale somewhere."

"Yard sale?" Johnny gives her a funny look.

"What?" she asks. "What's wrong with a yard sale?"

"Nothing," Johnny reassures her. "I just didn't take you for the type."

"The type that goes to yard sales?" Jennifer raises her eyebrows.

"Yeah, I know. It was a dumb thing to say." Johnny hands her the bag. "Tempting as it is to take it, I'm going to let you keep it."

"I see," Jennifer gives him an angry look. "So now you don't want it because it came from a yard sale?"

Johnny's eyes grow big. "No, that's not what I meant! I was just -"

Jennifer laughs. "Hey, relax. I'm just teasing you, Johnny. Thanks." She takes the bag and smiles at him again. "And yes, I do think you're nice."

Johnny smiles back and winks at her. "Don't forget to talk to me tomorrow, then."

"I'll look for you," Jennifer promises.

Johnny waves goodbye and heads home.

#  CHAPTER FIVE:

# Suspicious Activity

Tammie taps Max's shoulder.

"Maybe it's just me, but have you noticed that Martin and Jennifer haven't been sitting next to each other lately?"

Max nods. It's Wednesday night, and Mr. James is teaching the youth a lesson on obedience. It's a sobering lesson, touching some of the personal issues Max has to deal with at home. Max has trouble trusting his father, or any advice his father might offer. His father's addiction nearly wrecked their relationship. Thankfully, Mr. Shaw is now attending his AA meetings regularly, and he is working now, too.

Max agrees that Mr. Shaw is definitely making progress, but in the meantime, Max feels as if he has no one to turn to for spiritual advice. In the past, he would go to Mr. Kent, his probation officer, but Mr. Kent no longer lives in Logoria.

He has found a friend in Tammie McLeod, the sweet dark-skinned girl in the seat behind him. He and Tammie became extremely close after she confided in him about her pregnancy. It was through his relationship with Tammie that Max found his own salvation in Christ. She had made a mistake, but God was willing to forgive her. He'd convinced himself that God couldn't want someone like him; but by assuring Tammie that God wouldn't reject her he realized that God would not reject him, either.

Max knows now that God has accepted him as His own. His only desire now is to please him and serve him in any way possible. Tammie taps him again and points to the front, where Martin is sitting. Martin is listening intently, or so it would seem, to what Mr. James is saying. Mr. James is a mentor to Martin, just as Officer Kent had been to Max. Max notices the strained expression on Martin's face. Something is bothering him.

Whenever Martin is agitated, Max can tell. He's known Martin since preschool. They'd swapped lunches one day and were friends ever since. Jennifer is sitting on the opposite side of the room. Max had at one point been at odds with Jennifer, but since experiencing his newfound faith they hadn't had any confrontations.

Max is fairly certain that Martin and Jennifer like each other, but he'd long ago decided to stay out of it. Martin and Jennifer have been inseparable for the last six months, but recently there's been severe tension between them. It's impossible for anyone not to notice, but usually if there is tension it's Jennifer avoiding Martin, not the other way around. Something has definitely happened. The last few services have been like this. It doesn't bother Max, but Tammie is Jennifer's friend, and her tone suggests that she's worried.

"Maybe we should talk to them," she whispers to Max. He shrugs. If Jennifer and Martin aren't talking, that is fine with him.

Max shushes Tammie and whispers, "I can't hear the lesson." Tammie opens her mouth in indignation, but grins despite herself. Max shushes her again, and Tammie sits back in her seat, playfully eyeing him and pursing her lips.

Max grins back at her and turns around. Mr. James is closing out in prayer. After a brief exhortation, he dismisses the youth. Most of them leave the building and stand outside in the parking lot until the adult services are dismissed. Tammie immediately walks over to Jennifer. Max walks over to Martin.

Martin smiles at his friend wearily. "Hey Max," Martin gives him a quick pat on the arm. "How's life on the other side of the tracks?"

Max grimaces. "It's alright I guess, if you don't mind gunshots in the middle of the night."

"Gunshots?" Martin's expression changes from mild humor to worry in a matter of seconds.

"It's not really that bad." Max tries to reassure him. "I guess I'm just not used to it yet." Martin stares at Max, unconvinced.

"Are you sure everything's okay, Max?" Martin asks. "You know you can stay at my house any time you need to."

Max shrugs. "I know. I just need to spend some more time with my dad, that's all." Max looks thoughtful. "Hey, I saw Johnny Reese the other day. You know he lives there too, on the East side of Mogis Hills."

A strange look passes over Martin's face. "Yeah, I know."

Max wants to kick himself. "Hey, Martin, I didn't mean to bring it up like that, man. What happened between you two is in the past, right?"

"It's not that," Martin shakes his head and sighs. "Never mind it."

"Talk to me," Max persists.

Martin scratches his head. "Maybe it's no big deal, but..."

"But what?" Max continues to press him.

"It's Jennifer." Martin's frustration is obvious. "I don't know, but she's started... hanging out with him!" Martin throws up his hands in bafflement. "It's like I don't even exist anymore! They sit together at lunch now, and they talk during classes and in the hallway."

Max raises his eyebrows in surprise. "That's all? You see them in the hallway, and they eat lunch together?"

Martin sighs, exasperated. "That's not all! They've gone to the library together—I've seen them there twice." Martin holds up two fingers. "And Johnny walks her home," he adds, shaking his head.

"I can't figure it out. What does she see in him?" Martin lowers his voice as Tammie and Jennifer walks past them. Jennifer only briefly glances his way before turning back to Tammie.

"He's not even her type!" Martin whispers in a much lower voice.

Max shrugs. "Well, he looks different now. He's less Goth and more prep, you know?"

Martin frowns. "Not helping, Max."

Max places his pointing finger on his lips and thinks for a moment. "Can I ask you a question?" he asks Martin.

"Yeah, sure," Martin replies, rubbing his head in frustration.

Max scratches his head. "Make that two questions," he confesses sheepishly. "Question one: How do you know what Jennifer's type is, and question two: So what if she's seeing Johnny Reese? I mean, isn't that her choice?"

"I'm telling you Max, that guy is up to something," Martin starts to get loud again. "It's like he's got her under some spell or something."

Max hates where this conversation is going. "Have you tried talking to her about any of this?"

Martin rolls his eyes and leans against the building. "She and I aren't exactly on speaking terms right now," he confesses.

"Why?" Max asks. "Because of Johnny?"

"No," Martin replies. "It's something else."

Max waits for Martin to continue. He doesn't.

"Do you want to tell me what it is?" Max eyes Martin curiously. Still more silence. "Ok, fair enough. We'll talk about something else. Tell me about all the research papers I'm missing out on at Logoria High." His eyes widen in feigned anticipation.

Martin rolls his eyes. "Don't remind me! I've got research papers for at least three classes due by the end of the semester."

Max laughs. "I don't miss that at all. No papers for me!"

"So, what's the difference between Logoria and Wellis?" Martin asks.

"Um... " Max pauses. "More ethnic people?"

Martin raises his eyebrows. "Ethnic people?"

Max looks sheepish. "Well, I don't know how to say it! The ratio of blacks to whites there is about 10/1."

"Does that bother you?" Martin asks. There is no trace of judgment in his voice.

"At first," Max admits. "It was kind of like the first time I met Officer Kent. I'm just not used to it."

"Not used to seeing black people?" Martin jokes.

"Ha! Yeah, that's it," Max smirks. Max and Martin both turn as the doors to the sanctuary open. The adult service has been dismissed and people are slowly trickling out of the doors. Max turns again and looks at Martin.

"I've been meaning to ask you something."

"Yeah?" Martin turns again to Max.

"Have you ever heard of the S.K.U.L.L.S.?"

"No..." Martin raises his eyebrows. "Who are they?"

"Well, from what they told me, it's a group dedicated to protecting and looking out for each other. It's mostly for teens who live in the rougher neighborhoods in Logoria."

"I haven't heard anything," Martin replies. "I'll ask my dad, though. Who did you talk to about it?"

"A guy named Frank," Max answers. "I think he goes to Logoria High. He lives a few blocks from Johnny." Max glances away nervously. "Anyway, I was just curious. Maybe I'll look into it. It can't hurt to have a few extra people looking out for me, right?"

"That's true," Martin chooses his words carefully. "Max, remember that God is looking out for you, and so am I. So don't rush into anything, at least not until I've talked to my dad about it, okay?"

Max shrugs his shoulders. "I won't. With a name like S.K.U.L.L.S. I wasn't all that enthused to begin with. But Frank explained to me that it's just an acronym, and what it means is actually pretty good."

"What does it stand for?" Martin asks.

"It was pretty long, so I can't remember," Max admits. "If I see him again, I'll ask him."

Martin looks towards Jennifer again. "I hope she's careful around that guy."

Max shrugs. "I'm sure she can handle it. She's a Christian, Martin. Even though we've had our differences, I know she loves the Lord. That's got to count for something, right?"

Martin looks at Max in surprise. "Where did all this spiritual insight come from?"

"I learned it from you, Martin," Max looks at him with sincerity. "Just trust God with everything. That's what you always tell me, right?"

Martin looks at Jennifer again. "Pray for me, Max. I don't know what's going on with me." He looks back at his friend. "Pray for Jennifer too. I have a feeling we'll both need it."

•••

Michelle Reese is terrified. The look in her husband's eyes is clear. She will pay for her mistake. Dearly.

"What's the matter with you?" Mr. Reese shrieks, waving a crumpled piece of paper in his hand. "Every time I leave you do this, and I told you the last time it had better not happen again!"

"It was a mistake, Charles, please!" Mrs. Reese pleads, backing away from him slowly. He advances in her direction, still clutching the paper.

"You're useless!" he screams at her. He grabs her wrists in one hand and smacks her in the face with the paper in the other hand. "Completely useless!"

Tears stream down her face as she takes each blow. She tries to wriggle free, but it's no use.

"I made a mistake, Charles! I used the wrong card, and I'm sorry!" Her wriggling only annoys him, and he shakes her violently.

"Hold still and look at me! Look at me!" he demands. He pushes her against the wall and she lands on the floor with a thud. Mr. Reese unfolds the paper and pushes it into her face.

"Do you see this?" he asks her as though speaking to a child. "Do you see that negative balance? That means that _you_ -" he pokes her hard in the chest- "spent too much money! That's _my_ money! What were you thinking, huh? You're a complete moron, Michelle!" He slaps her and she screams.

"No, Charles!" she begs. "Please, I'm sorry; it won't happen again!" He grabs her by the hair and she screams again. "No, please! I swear it won't happen again! Charles, please!" she sobs and Mr. Reese releases her, shaking his head in disgust.

"Do you see what you make me do, Michelle? I have to treat you like a child, because you keep acting like a child." He grabs her by her arm and pulls her back up.

"Now clean this place up," he snarls viciously. He turns to walk away, but pauses, as if in thought.

"And Michelle," he adds, "don't let this happen again. If you do," Mr. Reese turns and raises his hand to strike her.

Mrs. Reese winces, but his hand stops an inch short of her cheek. Mr. Reese laughs at her, gleefully watching the fear in her eyes. He turns again and heads to his office, his laughter loud and obnoxious.

#  CHAPTER SIX:

# Desperate

Johnny sees the whole thing. His hand is on the knob as he watches his stepfather knock his mother across the room. His heart leaps to help her, but his feet refuse to budge. He simply watches, dismayed and disheartened. Spending the afternoon with Jennifer had made him feel like life wasn't so bad. The sight of his mother, broken and terrified, is a sobering reminder.

Johnny knows he's too weak to fight his stepfather; trying to stop Mr. Reese will only make things worse. Both Johnny and his mother will end up with bruised bodies and broken spirits. Still, he has to do something. He needs to see the Master. His assignment isn't complete yet, but he's on the right track. Befriending Jennifer is the first step.

Maybe if the Master sees the progress he's making, he'll get rid of Mr. Reese sooner than planned. Johnny wishes he had the nerve to take care of Mr. Reese himself, but absolute terror prevents him from even looking at him for too long. He's lived in fear most of his life, watching his stepfather's every move, calculating his routines to avoid him as much as possible.

As a teen, the only differences are Johnny's height and awareness. He tried only once to defend himself from his stepfather, and it had ended badly.

He'd only pushed Mr. Reese away, but that was enough to cause him to go on a rampage. Johnny had ended up with a broken arm and badly bruised face. It took over a week to convince Mr. Reese that Johnny needed to see a doctor. When the doctors asked how it happened, his mother had explained that Johnny and a friend of his were fighting and things had gotten out of hand. The doctors asked why it took so long to bring him to the hospital, and she told them they thought it was only a sprain, and had put it in a sling. When the police and social services got involved, Johnny's mother gave them the same story. When they pressured her for the name of the other boy, his mother refused, stating that she didn't want to press charges or get the boy into any trouble. Johnny had been too afraid to deny any of it. He was barely thirteen when it happened and feared that his stepfather would do something worse.

No, he has no stomach for confrontations. After his fight with Martin the previous fall, Johnny had emptied his stomach in the toilet a few times before returning to the principal's office. The only reason Johnny challenged Martin to a second fight was to keep his stepfather off of his back.

Mr. Reese takes pleasure in causing others pain, and Johnny knows better than anyone else the kind of evil the man is capable of.

For the sake of his mother, and especially his brothers and sister, Johnny makes up his mind. No matter what the Master asks of him tonight, Johnny will do everything in his power to get Charles Reese out of their lives for good.

•••

The gunshots startle Max, jolting him out of his sleep. The sirens that follow refuse to let him return to it. Max waits for his heart rate to become normal again before getting out of bed. The shock of the cold, concrete floors sends shivers up Max's spine, and he quickly searches for some slippers. A few moments later he is in the kitchen, searching in the dark for a clean glass. He looks out the kitchen window. It's pitch black. The street lights usually stay on until six in the morning, but a few of the neighborhood kids had shot out the lights with their bb guns. Apparently having street lights on the West side of Mogis Hills isn't a major priority for the city of Logoria.

Max sighs and lifts a prayer to heaven. "God, I feel all alone right now, and I don't know what to do. Help me find my way."

Max is quiet for a moment, taking in the sound of his father's soft snoring in the other room.

"And help my father find his way, too." Max ends the prayer and lets his mind travel back to the days when his mother was alive. The pain of her loss is still fresh, and the tears come freely. She is in heaven, he knows, so he will see her again. That doesn't make it any easier, though.

He is no longer required to do community service for his probation; Max received a glowing commendation from the hospital administration at his last hearing, and the courts declared his probation satisfied.

Max wanted to continue volunteering even after his service hours were up. Going to the Children's Hospital had been a means of therapy for him. Feeling needed helped him to cope with his own loss, but the move made transportation harder. Martin tried to help, but Mr. West didn't like the idea of Martin being out late at night on the West side of Mogis Hills.

Max jumps as he hears another round of gunshots crack the air. He can't blame Mr. West for his concern, but Max feels himself drifting further away from the good things he once knew and the friendship he and Martin shared. Things are different between them. Not necessarily in a bad way, but, at times, Max feels lonely. Max thinks about Frank's invitation to the S.K.U.L.L.S. Frank seems normal enough. Maybe the club is nothing more than that- just a couple of teenagers hanging out and being there for each other. What could be wrong with that? Max decides to talk to Frank about it the next time he sees him.

•••

"You've got to do something," Johnny pleads.

"And _you_ need to keep your end of the bargain," the Master replies.

They are back at the shack in the woods. Johnny is sitting on the floor in the same room. The Master sits in his chair. As expected, incense permeates the air, blending with the smoke from the joint the Master has straddled across the ashtray.

His cloak is covering his face, though Johnny has already seen what he looks like. It's been several weeks since their last meeting, and so far Johnny has done everything the Master commanded of him.

"I _have_ kept my end of the bargain," Johnny defends himself. "I work out, I get sun, I took out my nose ring, _and_ I got rid of my tongue ring." Johnny counts off each with his fingers. "In fact, the only piercing I have is the stud in my right ear! I ditched all my dark clothes and polish and-"

"And Jennifer?" the Master interrupts, bringing his joint to his mouth for a drag.

Johnny pauses before speaking. The Master had insisted that Johnny tell him everything he knew about Martin West, especially all of his friends, or girlfriends. The first person Johnny had thought of was Jennifer Smith. She'd become extremely close to Martin in a short time.

The Master had been especially interested in their relationship and had suggested that Johnny insert himself into Jennifer's life. He instructed Johnny on how to be more 'presentable' to someone like Jennifer, and told him to win her affection. So far things are going well.

"Jennifer and I have gotten close," Johnny answers. "She trusts me."

"Are you sure?" the Master questions.

"I'm sure," Johnny replies.

"Then you know what to do next," the Master states. He folds his hands in his lap and leans back in his chair. "I told you before. If you do what I tell you, I will take care of your father for you." Johnny shifts nervously, and the wooden boards beneath him creak. "Do you doubt me?" the Master asks, daringly.

"No," Johnny immediately states. "It's just... I'm worried about my mom."

"Fine!" the Master waves him away in irritation. "For the next two weeks, you won't have to worry about your father. Your mother will be safe for fourteen days. In the meantime, you do what I've told you."

Johnny nods, smiling as relief washes over him. "Get close to Jennifer." The Master adds, "There's a dance coming up, right?"

Johnny nods again. "Yes, but-"

"If you need money, I'll take care of it," the Master waves him off again. "Just do what I tell you. Now get out!"

Johnny responds by quickly leaving the room. The Master replaces his joint on the ashtray but accidentally knocks the table over, causing it to fall, along with a lit candle, to the floor. The candle falls near an old shirt that has been there for months.

After a few seconds, the shirt catches fire and begins shriveling and popping. The Master watches the small flames for a few moments, noting the sudden stuffiness in the room as smoke from the burning shirt begins to build. The flames begin to lick at the legs of the table holding his ashtray, and only then does he stomp out the flames.

A smile slowly finds its way to his lips as the thoughts that have haunted him for weeks suddenly formulate into a plan. He grabs another joint from the ashtray and lights it, savoring the potent smell of the incense mixed with the joint and the smoke from the crispy shirt.

"Steve!" he calls out. "Bring the chant books. We have a confusion spell to cast." The sounds on the other side of the wall indicate that Steve is performing the task. The Master looks at the shirt again, smiling to himself in contentment. "You're dead, West."

#  CHAPTER SEVEN:

# One Door Opens...

Jennifer smiles to herself in triumph as she closes her notebook. "Six pages of perfection!" she laughs.

Johnny flops down in a chair next to her. "I only have four pages," he grimaces. "But I may not have had any if you hadn't helped me."

Jennifer smiles shyly. "It was nothing. Besides, you did all the work. I just pointed you in the right direction."

Johnny smiles at her. They are at the public library. It's become their official meeting place, especially with the research paper for their Government class due the next week. Jennifer agreed to help Johnny with his paper, and in return, Johnny promised to carry her books home for her in the afternoon.

"Not that I wouldn't carry them anyway," Johnny had teased.

Today is their last day to work on both their English and Government research papers before turning them in. Jennifer is practically glowing. Johnny notes how enthusiastic she is whenever they accomplish a task or assignment. She is definitely different; Johnny has to admit it. Though he was told to befriend her for ulterior motives, he finds himself inexplicably drawn to her. There is something in her presence that almost makes him forget about his problems.

Almost.

The Master promised him peace for two weeks, and so far, his stepfather has been docile. He's made no attempts to abuse Johnny, his mother, or any of his siblings. He complained the first week of stomach pains and spent most of his days in bed. A few nights he would get up and watch television, but he spoke very little. He is supposed to go out of town for a few days which will guarantee that they will be safe from his moods.

Johnny is grateful to the Master for whatever he did. He wouldn't dare jeopardize the safety of his family for anything. He doesn't know what plans the Master has, or why he is so interested in Martin West, but he will do whatever the Master asks. Still, there is no reason for him not to enjoy Jennifer's company. She loves to talk, naturally, but she is a good listener, too.

"So," Jennifer waves her hand in front of Johnny to make sure he is listening. "Are you having a private conversation, or can anybody join?"

"Oh, sorry," Johnny smiles sheepishly. He didn't realize that he missed the last few minutes of what she'd said. "Can you repeat that?"

Jennifer rolls her eyes and sighs loudly. The twinkle in her eyes shows that she is only teasing. "I was asking you, since our papers are finished, does this mean you won't be walking me home anymore?"

"Oh!" Johnny smiles. "I guess I could still walk you home," he says slowly.

"You guess?" Jennifer laughs. "What? And all this time I thought you liked it. Have you been using me this whole time for your own personal gain?"

Johnny swallows and forces a smile. "What do you mean?" Is she on to him?

"You have got some nerve, Johnny Reese!" she continues. "Carrying my books to ensure that you get an A on your research paper? How low is that?" she laughs, and Johnny relaxes.

"I still had to write it myself, and I think I did a fairly decent job," Johnny defends himself. "Besides, I carry your books, _and_ your gym bag, _and_ your backpack."

Jennifer nods. "That's true. I do appreciate it, too," she adds sincerely. "Thanks."

Johnny places his hand on top of hers. "I should be thanking you. Being your friend means a lot to me." _More than you'll ever know_ , he thinks to himself. "But Jen," he leans in closer, "it doesn't have to end."

Jennifer feels her heart flutter. "What doesn't have to end?"

"Us meeting here; me walking you home, carrying your bag, all of it," Johnny focuses his eyes on hers. "We don't have to stop, if you don't want to."

Jennifer gulps. He is making her self-conscious, and she begins nervously playing with her hair. She feels a giddy excitement building in her. She's truly come to enjoy the time she and Johnny spend together, and though she hasn't let on, she's a little sad thinking that today might be their last meeting together. A part of her knows that she is falling for him. A small, faint whisper suggests she keep her distance, but she pushes the warning aside. She looks into his eyes and smiles.

"I'd like that," she finally answers.

Johnny feels a wave of relief wash over him. It's more than just what the Master has planned. He really does want to be accepted by Jennifer. Knowing that she wants to be around him makes him feel at home with her. He wondered earlier that day if he would be able to lie to her. Looking at her this very moment, it's easy. Not because he is a good liar, but because it isn't a lie at all. He does want to keep spending time with her.

A small red flag waves in his mind, reminding him not to get too close, but Johnny knows it's already too late. No matter what his motives were in the beginning or how things play out in the end, Johnny is certain about one thing. He has fallen for Jennifer Smith.

•••

Martin paces his living room floor. His mind is teeming with a million questions – questions he hopes his father can answer when he gets home. He already spoke with Mr. James about some of his concerns. In the last few weeks, he's probably spent more time waiting on the front steps of Mr. James' house than he's spent at home. Something is amiss. Martin can't put his finger on it, but if the restlessness in his spirit is any indication, it's something big.

As soon as Mr. West comes in, Martin demands his attention. Mr. West barely has a chance to put his briefcase down before Martin begins hammering him with questions.

"Dad, I need to ask you what you know about a gang called the S.K.U.L.L.S."

"Hello, Martin, it's nice to see you too," Mr. West sighs.

"I'm serious, Dad," Martin continues to prod. "It's important and I promised Max I would ask you about it as soon as I got the chance. I didn't take it seriously at first, but now Max is telling me that he's going to give it a try. I don't know if it's a gang, or if it's just a club, but I need to find out before he gets too involved."

Mr. West walks into the living room and sits down in his recliner. "What is the name, again?" he asks.

"They call themselves the S.K.U.L.L.S. Max says they operate mostly out of Mogis Hills. They have a creed and special codes and they're supposed to be a brotherhood or something."

"Right off-hand I don't know anything about it, but I'll look into it, ok?" Mr. West offers.

Martin crosses his arms. "Dad, you're the DA. You should know everything about... everything!"

Mr. West sighs. "Martin, kids come up with clubs and cliques all the time. Unless they're involved in criminal activity, like substance abuse, gang violence, or vandalism, I generally don't hear about it. But I promise, I'll look into it and see what I find out, okay?"

Martin is unimpressed with his father's offer. "Yeah, that means you're going to forget all about it as soon as this conversation's over."

Mr. West raises his eyebrows. "Martin I told you I would look into-"

"I'm your son, Dad, you don't have to use political jargon on me," Martin interrupts. "Why can't you people just be honest and say 'hey, I'm busy and I don't care about your little problem'?"

"You people?" Mr. West looks at Martin, incredulous. He stands and places his face an inch from Martin's.

"Martin, you are way out of line, so let me put you back on it. First, I am your father, so watch your tone. Second, you'd do well not to forget that my politics have kept you out of a world of trouble." Mr. West's voice is calm, but there is an undertone that suggests that Martin had better back off.

Martin clamps his mouth shut and swallows whatever he was about to say. He won't be getting any answers from his father. He has so much more to talk about, but Mr. West is no longer in the mood. Martin can't hide his disappointment as he watches his father walk past him toward his bedroom.

Had she been available, Martin would have called Jennifer. He shakes his head. That's another issue to deal with. Her relationship with Johnny bothers him, in more ways than one. He isn't ready to admit that he feels threatened by him, but he bristles every time he sees the two of them together. He can't deal with his feelings for Jennifer until he figures out what else is bothering him. Martin knows he needs to call Max, but he doesn't want to call him without having any extra information. He tried the Internet, but found nothing similar to the S.K.U.L.L.S. Max had talked about.

An hour later, Martin gets the answer he needs. A quick call to Mr. James propels him in the right direction.

"Pray, Martin." Mr. James states.

"That's it?" Martin is expecting something more profound. "Just pray?"

"Yes."

Silence.

"Mr. James?" Martin asks slowly, after a long period of silence.

"Yes?"

"Could you be more specific?"

Martin hears Mr. James chuckle. "Martin, you have a problem. Right?"

"Right," Martin is growing impatient.

"You tried solving it yourself, and that hasn't worked. You went to your father next and how did that turn out?"

"Crashed and burned and I'm lucky I'm not grounded," Martin admits.

"Now you're coming to me, because I've helped you in the past, right? I always have a word for you, don't I?"

"Yep, pretty much," Martin answers.

"Martin... do you notice anything missing?"

"Only that you haven't given me an answer," Martin replies sarcastically.

"Have you spoken to God about this?"

"Of course!" Martin replies without thinking. "That was the first thing I did!"

"And what did He say?"

Martin is quiet a moment. "I'm not sure. I was hoping you would be able to tell me."

"Martin, let me put this in perspective for you. You went to God, but got no answer, so you tried to solve it yourself. Then you went to your father, and now you're looking to me. The only one with the answer is God. The only way you can solve a problem, or go to your father, or even come to me and receive an answer is if God gives us the wisdom to do it. If God isn't speaking to you, the odds are good that you won't hear it from any of us either. I don't have any answers for you. You have to pray."

Martin is annoyed. "Why can't you just tell me what to do?" he asks in frustration.

"Because God wants you to learn his voice. If you don't spend enough time with him and develop your relationship with Him, you'll miss it when He does speak. I do have a few scriptures for you. They will help you. The first is Matthew 7:7-8.

'"Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you: For every one that asks receives; and he that seeks will find; and to him that knocks it shall be opened.' The second is in James 1:5. 'If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, that gives to all men liberally, and upbraids not; and it shall be given him.'"

Martin thanks Mr. James and spends the evening in his room. He starts off with a simple prayer. "Lord, I don't know what's going on with me. I need you to help me, because I'm lost."

Martin knows he'll have to go deeper than that. There is too much on his heart to leave it at that. He continues.

"I'm sorry I haven't been spending time with you in prayer like I should. I thought I was okay, but now I know that I've been avoiding you. It isn't intentional, God. I just have so much going on." Martin shakes his head, warding off the emotional rollercoaster he feels. "Max is my best friend, and I don't understand why he had to move. I know He's in your hands, but a part of me feels responsible for him. I don't want anything to happen to him." His heart aches for his friend. "God please protect him, and show me what you want me to do to help him."

He thinks of Jennifer, and his agitation quickly surfaces. "Why did you put us together? She's so frustrating! I'm trying to be her friend, but she's rejected me!"

Have you rejected her?

Martin hears the question- not audibly, but in his spirit- and allows it to penetrate his heart. "I haven't rejected her," he says quietly, but he knows that isn't true.

He remembers their last conversation. She did nothing wrong, but Martin had exploded on her. She hadn't rejected him. Martin knows he was the one who pushed her away. Jennifer was only protecting herself by avoiding him. He hurt her, and he hadn't made any attempt to apologize or make things right.

"Okay, so maybe I did reject her." Martin admits. "But I didn't mean to... she's my friend and I care about her. God, I don't know what's going on between her and Johnny, but something's not right."

Martin feels a sudden urgency in his spirit as he prays. "Lord, you're sovereign and only you know what's going on out here," he pauses, pointing to his heart, "and in here. Please, give me the wisdom I need to make the right choices in the days to come."

Martin continues his prayer all through the night. He finally falls asleep just after midnight. He hoped to have peace after praying, but the uneasiness he's been feeling is stronger than ever.

•••

"Jen, can I ask you something?" It's Wednesday afternoon and Johnny is walking Jennifer home. They'd spent an hour at the park after school, grabbing ice cream and other snacks on the way there. Now they're heading home. Johnny meant to talk to her while they were at the park but thought it would be easier to stomach a rejection if he didn't have to walk her home afterwards.

"Sure," she smiles and slows her pace.

Johnny stops completely and turns to her. The sudden halt causes Jen to slightly trip over her feet. She laughs as Johnny holds a hand out to steady her.

"Shoot!" she gives him the go-ahead.

Johnny sucks in his breath and puts his hands in his pockets. _No, that will seem nonchalant_ , he thinks. He removes his hands and crosses his arms across his chest, but is uncomfortable with that as well. He puts his hands to his sides. Now they feel heavy, dangling at his side like deadweights. _Just get on with it_ , he scolds himself.

"Jen?" he grabs her hand.

Her hand trembles slightly when he grabs it. She looks at him, waiting.

"I wanted to know if you were going to the dance on Friday?"

"The school dance? I'm on the committee, so I have to go."

"Well, do you have a date?" he asks. He sucks in his breath, waiting for her to say yes. She says no.

"No?" he is surprised.

"Nope, I don't have a date," Jennifer throws her hands up.

"That's great!" Johnny exclaims.

Jennifer raises her eyebrows. "It is?"

Johnny backs up. "I mean, it's great that you don't have a date yet, because I," he makes eye contact with her. "I want to ask you to be my date."

"Oh," Jennifer looks away. Whether it is from embarrassment or disgust, Johnny can't tell. His heart feels like it will beat right out of his chest as he waits for her to respond.

"Jen?" he touches her shoulder. She looks at him again, concern in her eyes. "What is it?"

"Well," she says quietly. "It's just that..."

"Just what?" He knew it. She isn't attracted to him. She just sees him as a friend. He should have told the Master he wouldn't be able to pull this off. Romance is not his strength, and besides, the feelings he has for Jennifer won't just go away.

"Johnny, I'm a Christian," she begins. "I would love to go with you on Friday, but you have to know that I love God more than anything else. He comes first in my life, and I won't compromise that."

What did she say? She would love to go with him Friday? What does that mean? He asks her. "So, what are you saying?"

Jennifer thinks for a moment. "How about this? You come with me tonight, and I'll go with you Friday night. Sound fair enough?"

Johnny feels a wave of relief wash over him. She said yes! Almost. "Sounds great!" he replies. "Where are we going?" he asks her.

"Bible study," she gives him a sneaky grin.

Johnny can't help but smile. He should have known. "No problem," he says honestly. She wants to include him on the things she finds important. Inviting him to church is a good sign.

A very good sign.

#  CHAPTER EIGHT:

# On The Run

Max's mind is racing, his pulse is way out of control, and he has no idea where he's going. His mind is clear on only one thing: he needs to get as far away as possible.

He feels his left leg slip as he rounds a corner. Pain stabs his knee as it slams into a wall. He winces and hobbles a few seconds before breaking back into his stride. The commotion behind him lets him know he'd better not slip again.

His mind tries to shut out the noises behind him. "Almost home, almost home," he tells himself over and over. Whether or not that will make a difference is unclear, but he's out of ideas. The clang of an overturned garbage can encourages him to move faster. He prays he will lose them soon. Shouts in the distance let him know they're still too close.

He didn't want this. He just went to the drugstore to pick up some milk and bread. A few thugs had been hanging out by the entrance. Max had hoped if he just ignored them and didn't make eye contact they wouldn't bother him, but they had been waiting for him when he came out.

•••

"Hey dude!" one of them snorted, obviously high. The others laughed.

Max glanced at them nervously and tried to keep walking, but one of the others blocked his way.

"You little white boys always think you better," he snarled. "You think you better than me? Eh?" The young Latino put his face directly in front of Max. He was drunk. Max couldn't mistake the smell on his breath.

"I don't want any trouble," Max said quietly.

"Well looks like you found it," Smelly Breath smiled and looked Max up and down. Max's hands began to shake, which only served to encourage the boys.

He closed his eyes slowly, willing his knees to stop knocking. They didn't. When he opened his eyes again, they were still there, and the two on the side were inching closer to him.

"What's the matter?" another asked in a high pitched voice. "You scared?"

"Nice shoes," one of them commented with a sneer. Max swallowed hard and prayed.

"Hey!" the door of the store opened with a loud bang. The owner stuck his head out. "I don't want no trouble at my store! You kids get outta here! Now!"

"Hey shut up old man!" one of the others waved a hand at him.

"Get out of here before I call the police!" the man waved the phone in his hand.

Smelly Breath lifted his hands in the air and backed away from Max. "We were just leaving," he said with a grin. The others backed off as well, laughing and joking. Max could feel a cold sweat forming on his neck. As soon as they rounded the corner he turned to the storeowner.

"Thanks," he said, tightening his grip on his groceries.

"You be careful, and go straight home," the man replied sternly. Max nodded and started on his way home. He'd only gone a few yards before the creepy feeling of being watched tingled up his spine. His suspicions were confirmed as soon as he turned his head. Three boys, headed by Smelly Breath, were following close behind him.

Max picked up his pace, glancing back occasionally to see if they were still following him. They showed no signs of slowing or stopping. Max began a quick trot, but soon discovered they were keeping pace with him. The half-gallon of milk and loaf of bread in his right hand were weighing down his arms. Max began to run, ignoring the wild churning sound the milk made when it bounced off his thigh.

One of the boys hollered, "Get him!" and Max took off full sprint. Somewhere along the way he dropped the milk and bread, but he refused to look back. They were after him, and there was no telling what they would do if they caught up to him.

•••

Max is less than three blocks away from his house. He'd taken several back alleys to try to lose the boys, and the last few turns he took seemed to do the trick.

He allows himself a short break to catch his breath. He thinks he might puke. His breath is coming in short rasps, and he wills himself to calm down. His eyes burn with tears, and he shuts them tight. His chest is on fire, and his lips are dry.

He needs to get home, quickly, but he can't will his legs forward. His arms and legs ache. He shouldn't stick around; he knows that. He glances down the road. His house is just a couple blocks down. He sticks out his right foot, then his left, and slowly begins to pick up the pace. Max smiles in relief. He is almost home!

A car zooms past him, headed in the opposite direction. He turns to watch it drive off. It speeds around the next corner, its tires squealing in protest. Max shakes his head and turns back in the direction of his house. He stops. The boys are in front of him, two blocks down. He feels his heart drop into his gut as they turn, first to the right then to the left. They see him. Max sees them running toward him, but can't get his mind to register that fact to his legs in time.

_Run! Run!_ He wills them to move. _Please, God, run_!

After what seems an eternity, he finally begins to run in the opposite direction. His legs feel like lead, and the thugs are less than a block away now. He stumbles over a water hose left out on the sidewalk. His hand smacks the pavement before he regains his balance and he cradles it with his other hand.

He looks back. They're right behind him. Max focuses all of his energy on running, though where he's running to is moot at this point. He just needs to get away. They are going to hurt him. He knows that much. They're on his heels now. Max feels all hope drain from his body, and despair washes through him. Raw fear permeates his veins, gripping his spine and freezing his legs.

He hears them directly behind him. One grabs his shoulder and swings him off balance. Max hits the ground with a hard thud. His shoulder feels out of place as the rest of them pounce on him. Fists and feet fly at him from all directions. His mind screams for them to stop, but the words never make it out of his mouth. Max begins to thrash, kicking out with his arms and legs. A blow to his head sends stars dancing behind his eyes. He feels himself passing out, but suddenly Smelly Breath grabs him by his shirt and slams him against the wall of a house.

Max blinks slowly. He looks past Smelly Breath to the tiny audience that's come to watch. The demon children have run over to see the commotion, giggling and pointing as Max gets pummeled. No one else is around. Smelly Breath slugs him in his gut, and Max feels bile rise to his throat. He coughs violently, shrinking to his knees in pain.

"Hold him up!" Smelly Breath orders one of the boys to grab Max. The children are still laughing. Max feels his left eye swelling. Nausea fights its way to the surface, and Max's eyes roll to the back of his head. Everything becomes fuzzy and Smelly Breath and his gang begin to blur together. Max detects movement out of the corner of his eye. Smelly Breath sees it too. He turns around, which is all Max sees before passing out.

•••

Max hears his name several times and turns over. He's at the park, and his mother is in front of him, calling for him to come follow her. He watches her disappear into the woods behind the park.

_Where is she going?_ Max wonders. He follows her past the trees and calls out to her, but she doesn't respond. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots her. He begins running towards her, pushing away stray twigs that block his path. He keeps calling out to her, but she continues to run.

She makes a sharp left, passing a large wild bush. There is a small trail leading up to an old wooden gate. The gate looks like several pieces of wood stapled together on a rusty hinge.

His mother walks past the gate and disappears. Max runs to catch up, but once he passes the gate, he can't find her. He looks in every direction, but she is nowhere to be seen. A crackling sound to his right catches his attention. Max squints past the trees as he spots a faint light in the distance.

He follows the light. It takes him deeper into the trees, and, for a brief moment, he wonders if he will be able to find his way out. Max stops when he finds the source of the light. A small house is sitting in the middle of a clearing. It's hidden at first by a few trees, but just beyond the trees are three or four yards of grass. The house is on fire. Max hears his heart beat in his ear drums. What he sees next sends his mind in a flurry. His mother is running toward the house!

Max takes off, running and screaming for her to wait. Doesn't she know the house is on fire? As he nears the house he sees that the fire is coming from one side. Something tells him to run towards the side that's burning. He follows his instincts and notices a small basement window, almost too low for him to see through.

Flames lick the roof and the sides of the walls, but Max rushes to the window anyway. He feels the heat from the fire, but it doesn't burn him. He looks through the window and sees a large room filled with black smoke. Something else is there, or someone, lying on the floor.

The smoke makes it hard for him to see clearly. Suddenly, the walls begin to shake and buckle. Max hears a loud crack as the roof collapses. His mind tells him to move, but he can't let go of the window ledge. The tremors cause Max to shake violently. He hears his mother calling him.

"Max! Max! Max!"

•••

"Max? Hey Max, you alright, man?"

Max feels himself being shaken. He opens his eyes and immediately shuts them when the light hits them. The second time he opens one eyelid at a time and squints.

Max is on the ground; Frank and another boy are squatting next to him. Frank has his hand on Max's shoulder. Max winces as the pain in his body rushes over him. He feels like swearing, but restrains himself.

"What happened?" Max asks. He remembers the boys who chased him, but they're nowhere to be seen.

"You were getting the crap kicked out of you," the other boy snickers.

Max grimaces. "I mean after that."

Frank ignores the question. "Can you sit up?" he asks. Max nods and slowly, with Frank's help, props himself up. His whole body aches from the bruises he knows are there. Max massages his face in his hands and closes his eyes against the ringing in his ears. There is a pulsing motion coming from the back of his head. Max reaches back and feels a goose egg under his hair. He winces as he caresses it lightly.

"Are you okay, Max?" Frank asks again.

"Yeah," Max replies. "Where are those guys at now?"

"We chased them off of you," the other boy shrugs.

Max looks at him in disbelief. "How did you manage that?"

"With this," the young man reaches into his back pocket.

Max tenses, expecting him to pull out a gun. He doesn't. Instead he pulls out a small cloth with a symbol woven on it. It has the word S.K.U.L.L.S. and a picture with crossbones across the front in purple and red colors.

"We keep these on us. Everyone in this neighborhood knows if you mess with one S.K.U.L.L.S. member, you mess with all of us. We came around the corner and saw them beating you up. Frank here," the boy points to Frank, "told them to leave you alone. They weren't going to listen at first, but when we showed them our creed cloth, they backed off. We couldn't save your shoes, though."

Max looks down at his feet, realizing for the first time that his shoes are missing. This time he does swear. He glances at Frank and quickly apologizes. "Sorry, it slipped."

Frank doesn't notice. "Sorry for what?"

Max shakes his head. "Never mind." Max slowly takes a step towards his house. "Listen, Frank, thanks for helping me out. I don't know what would've happened to me if you hadn't been here."

Frank nods and places his hand on Max's shoulder. "Max, I like you, man. You've got some great potential. This time I happened to be here, but as soon as those guys catch you alone again, you're toast. You're not gonna walk away with just a few bruises. You've got to have some sort of protection."

Max nods in agreement. "I've been thinking about that, Frank. I just... I don't know about it."

Frank shrugs. "We're having a bonfire tonight in the woods. You should come. Hang out with some other S.K.U.L.L.S. members, ask some questions, and find out what you need to know. Just give me a call if you decide to go, and I'll come pick you up."

Max nods again. "I think I will." Frank helps Max home with occasional commentary from his friend, whose name, Max later discovers, is Steve. As soon as Max gets settled inside, Steve and Frank leave. Max looks at the clock. His father will be home soon, and an hour later he'll be off to his AA meeting.

Max thinks about Frank's offer. Max usually goes to bible study on Wednesdays, but this is important, isn't it? Besides, if he goes to church with swollen eyes and bruises, Martin will freak out. He makes up his mind. He'll call Frank as soon as his father leaves for his meeting.

#  CHAPTER NINE:

# The Heart of the Matter

As he walks into the youth room, Martin prays for the answers he needs. He hopes to catch Mr. James alone before the service begins, but one of the youth tell him that Mr. James is in a meeting with the assistant pastor.

Martin sits down in a chair close to the front and flips through his bible. He has no idea what Mr. James is going to talk about, but he hopes that whatever it is will shake Jennifer out of the stupor she's in. Perhaps, after hearing the message tonight, Jennifer will come to her senses and realize that she should stay as far away from Johnny as possible.

The door to the youth room creaks open and Martin turns around to see who it is. He nearly swallows his tongue when he sees Jennifer walk in with Johnny Reese. Martin can't help the scowl on his face, but straightens as he sees the youth room fill with more teens.

He and Jennifer need to talk, whether Johnny is present or not. Martin decides to stand up and go over to her, but Mr. James chooses that moment to enter the room, instructing everyone to stand and bow their heads as he opens up in prayer.

Martin's heart sinks as he reluctantly stands. He _really_ hopes Mr. James has a good message prepared. He tries to clear his mind and his heart as Mr. James prays.

"Father," Pastor James begins, "we come to you now in prayer, asking for your protection over us during this service. I pray the seeds planted tonight fall on good ground and bear fruit in our lives. Give us understanding hearts as we study your word. In Jesus' name we pray, amen."

Amens resound throughout the room as several teens take their seats. Many wait with quiet eagerness as Pastor James begins the lesson. Pastor James clears his throat and begins.

"The thoughts I cultivate and nurture in my heart will one day bear fruit. Their harvest will engulf my life and become my reality." Some of the youth give him blank stares. Others pull out their note pads and bibles and begin writing furiously.

"Tonight we're going to talk about the heart," he continues. "We're going to go through a lot of scripture, so I want you to stay with me. Take as many notes as you can, and study them when you get home. If my lesson tonight reminds you of school, it's because I'm trying to teach you something that will change the way you think. Let's begin with a story. Proverbs 23:1-7 gives us an example of a man who says one thing with his mouth, but his heart is saying something else. Imagine inviting your buddy over to eat. You can tell that he's come with an appetite, which is cool, because you've already ordered a few pizzas. So when the pizza gets there, you tell him to help himself. After about eight slices of pizza, you realize that he's eaten about twice as much as you have and is showing no signs of stopping. So, you get angry with your friend. He's making an absolute pig of himself and doesn't even care that he's eaten most of your pizza."

A few teens snicker and nudge their neighbors at this statement.

Pastor James continues. "After his twelfth slice, your friend stops and says, 'hey, you mind me eating this last slice?' and instead of telling him no, that _you_ want the last piece, you say 'Oh, no! Go on man! Please, help yourself.' On the outside, you're calm and generous, but on the inside, you hope he pukes his guts out."

There is a loud round of commentary at the end of this statement. Pastor James finishes his story. "The seventh verse in that chapter says 'For as he thinks in his heart, so is he.'"

Pastor James scans the room. "That's how all of us function. We can all laugh at that story, because it's true. What we say doesn't always reflect what we really think or believe. We can lie, we can be hypocritical, we can pretend. It's the condition of our heart that determines who and what we are."

Martin glances briefly across the room at Jennifer before looking back at Pastor James.

"It's also the condition of our heart that determines our reality. Consequences are the harvest. Our thoughts are the seeds, be they good or bad. Let me give you some more examples. Turn in your bibles to Genesis six."

Pastor James pauses as several bible pages flip.

"Start at verse five and read through verse seven, and then skip down to verses twelve and thirteen please," he scans the room, "...Jennifer."

Jennifer stands up as she reads.

"'Then the Lord saw that the wickedness of man was great in the earth, and that every intent of the thoughts of his heart was only evil continually. And the Lord was sorry that He had made man on the earth, and He was grieved in His heart. So the Lord said, "I will destroy man whom I have created from the face of the earth, both man and beast, creeping thing and birds of the air, for I am sorry that I have made them.' Verse 12 and 13?"

Jennifer looks at Pastor James, and he nods. "'So God looked upon the earth, and indeed it was corrupt; for all flesh had corrupted their way on the earth. And God said to Noah, 'The end of all flesh has come before Me, for the earth is filled with violence through them; and behold, I will destroy them with the earth.'"

"Thank you Jennifer," Pastor James looks up from his bible. "Here is an example of how the corrupted hearts of man caused everything around them to become corrupt as well. Let's look at another story. Martin can you read 1 Kings 15 verses one through six?" Martin nods and turns the pages. As soon as he gets to the verses, he begins to read.

"'In the eighteenth year of King Jeroboam the son of Nebat, Abijam became king over Judah. He reigned three years in Jerusalem. His mother's name was Maachah the granddaughter of Abishalom. And he walked in all the sins of his father, which he had done before him; his heart was not loyal to the Lord his God, as was the heart of his father David. Nevertheless for David's sake the Lord his God gave him a lamp in Jerusalem, by setting up his son after him and by establishing Jerusalem; because David did what was right in the eyes of the Lord, and had not turned aside from anything that He commanded him all the days of his life, except in the matter of Uriah the Hittite. And there was war between Rehoboam and Jeroboam all the days of his life.'"

Pastor James nods in thanks and Martin looks again at Jennifer before taking his seat.

"We have here another example of the heart of an individual affecting his world. During the time of Abijam, there was a feud between the northern tribes of Israel and the southern tribes of Judah and Benjamin. The split occurred before Abijam became king, but because Abijam didn't deal with his heart towards the Lord, his reign never experienced days of peace. In fact, there was war all the days of his life."

Pastor James looks at his notes again. "Let's look at one more story before we move on. This is the story of the downfall of King Saul, and it's found in 1 Samuel 15. I'm going to read, starting at verse one, and you can catch up to me as you turn.

"'Samuel also said to Saul, 'The Lord sent me to anoint you king over His people, over Israel. Now therefore, heed the voice of the words of the Lord. Thus says the Lord of hosts: 'I will punish Amalek _for_ what he did to Israel, how he ambushed him on the way when he came up from Egypt. Now go and attack Amalek, and utterly destroy all that they have, and do not spare them. But kill both man and woman, infant and nursing child, ox and sheep, camel and donkey. 'So Saul gathered the people together and numbered them in Telaim, two hundred thousand foot soldiers and ten thousand men of Judah. And Saul came to a city of Amalek, and lay in wait in the valley.

"'Then Saul said to the Kenites, "Go, depart, get down from among the Amalekites, lest I destroy you with them. For you showed kindness to all the children of Israel when they came up out of Egypt." So the Kenites departed from among the Amalekites. And Saul attacked the Amalekites, from Havilah all the way to Shur, which is east of Egypt. He also took Agag king of the Amalekites alive, and utterly destroyed all the people with the edge of the sword. But Saul and the people spared Agag and the best of the sheep, the oxen, the fatlings, the lambs, and all _that was_ good, and were unwilling to utterly destroy them. But everything despised and worthless, that they utterly destroyed.'"

Pastor James looks up from his bible. "Here you see that Saul was given a command from God through the prophet Samuel to utterly destroy the Amalekites. Not only does he spare the king, he spares everything that looks good. Saul disobeyed the command of the Lord. Look down from verse 22 to verse 24, and see what his reason was. It reads 'So Samuel said: 'Has the Lord _as great_ delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices, as in obeying the voice of the Lord? Behold, to obey is better than sacrifice, a _nd_ to heed than the fat of rams. For rebellion _is as_ the sin of witchcraft, and stubbornness _is as_ iniquity and idolatry. Because you have rejected the word of the Lord, He also has rejected you from _being_ king.' Then Saul said to Samuel, 'I have sinned, for I have transgressed the commandment of the Lord and your words, because I feared the people and obeyed their voice.'"

Pastor James pauses before speaking again. "Saul had fear in his heart, not for the Lord, but for men. He knew what God told him to do, but he allowed his fear to affect his thoughts, which affected his actions, which caused him to sin and lose his position as king over Israel. Saul begged Samuel in the next verse for forgiveness, but Samuel told him the same thing he told him in verse 23. Go in your bibles now to Psalm 66:18."

Pastor James allows them to get there before beginning. "It says, 'If I regard iniquity in my heart, the Lord will not hear me.' If we allow ungodly thoughts to remain in our hearts, if we cultivate them and rearrange our environment so that they can grow, when the harvest comes and those seeds bear fruit, God will not hear you. God will not be moved by your tears, your pain, or even your intentions. God will not get rid of the fruit if you're not willing to uproot the seeds. I'm going to give you several more scriptures now dealing with the heart. Here are some things you need to know about your heart. One of the most powerful tools you have in your walk with Christ is your heart. It's literally a storage place for words.

"David says in Psalm 119:11 'Your word have I hid in mine heart, that I might not sin against thee.' You can put the word of God into your heart and it will actually safeguard you from sin. Proverbs 4:23 instructs us to guard our hearts, because just as the heart can be used to store the word and save your life, the wrong information can be stored in your heart and destroy you. If you haven't been guarding your heart, you can't trust it.

"Turn with me to Jeremiah 17:9. It says 'The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked: who can know it?' The world tells us to follow our hearts, but the word of God instructs us _not_ to follow our hearts. Instead, we're told in Galatians 5:16 to walk in the Spirit.

"After reading all these examples, it's tempting to make promises to God and tell him you'll change your heart. But your responsibility is actually to seek God, and allow _Him_ to change your heart. Jeremiah 24:6-7, Jeremiah 31:33-34, and Ezekiel 11:19-21 each describe how God promised his people that He would give them a new heart to replace their corrupt hearts. In Psalm 51:10, David asks 'Create in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spirit within me.'"

Pastor James flips through his bible. "I'm going to give you a few more verses to better understand the heart and the role it plays in your life. Your heart is an important part of every decision you make. It affects the way you talk, according to Matthew 12:34. It's the key to what you treasure or value. Luke 6:45 and Matthew 12:34 state that 'a good man out of the good treasure of his heart brings forth good; likewise an evil man out of the evil treasure of his heart brings forth evil.' Remember that your heart is a storage place for words, and when the bible speaks of the treasure of the heart, it's talking about the words, thoughts, and ideas stored in your heart, whether they're good or evil. Matthew 6:21 says where your treasure is, your heart will be as well. When God requests your devotion, he wants all of you, including your heart. Mark 12:30 says to love the Lord with all your heart. According to 2 Corinthians 9:7, when you give an offering to the Lord, He wants your heart involved."

Pastor James clears his throat and takes a sip of water. "I have a few more points before I'll be finished, and I want you to make sure you write down these verses if you're taking notes. The heart is a storage place for words, worries and anxieties, your beliefs, your convictions, and your desires. Psalm 37:4 says to delight yourself in the Lord and he will give you the desires of your heart, illustrating to us that desires are stored in our heart. In John 14:1 Jesus tells his disciples not to let their hearts be troubled, because He is with them, showing us that our hearts can be disturbed, full of worry and anxiety. There's also Acts 2:37 and Romans 10:10, which deal with conviction and belief.

"The most important point I want to make tonight is that Jesus Christ wants your heart. Ephesians 3:14-19 describes how Christ wants to dwell in your heart. Philippians 4:6-7 shows how Christ wants to keep and guard your heart with peace. God searches your heart according to Romans 8:27 and He also directs your heart. 2 Thessalonians 3:5 says 'And the Lord direct your hearts into the love of God, and into the patient waiting for Christ.'"

Pastor James sets his bible on the podium and looks out at the group. "God knows your heart, and He knows it well. I'm going to read one more scripture for you in closing tonight. It's Jeremiah 17:5-11. Listen carefully. 'Thus says the Lord: Cursed is the man who trusts in man and makes flesh his strength, whose heart departs from the Lord. For he shall be like a shrub in the desert, and shall not see when good comes, but shall inhabit the parched places in the wilderness, in a salt land which is not inhabited. Blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord, and whose hope is the Lord. For he shall be like a tree planted by the waters, which spreads out its roots by the river, and will not fear when heat comes; but its leaf will be green, and will not be anxious in the year of drought, nor will cease from yielding fruit. The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked; who can know it? I, the Lord, search the heart, I test the mind, even to give every man according to his ways, according to the fruit of his doings. As a partridge that broods but does not hatch, so is he who gets riches, but not by right; it will leave him in the midst of his days, and at his end he will be a fool.'"

Pastor James closes out the lesson with a final exhortation.

"When you trust in man, you're setting yourself up for failure and disappointment. But when you trust in the Lord, you know that adversity cannot destroy you; it can only make you hold tighter to the Rock of your foundation, and He will sustain and protect you. Let's pray."

•••

After service, Martin decides to talk to Jennifer. He's been stealing glances of her and Johnny all night, and he's ready to speak his mind. Max's absence barely registers as Martin focuses on Jennifer. She's standing by the bathroom waiting for Johnny. Martin walks over briskly, stopping just a few inches behind her, and immediately begins his tirade.

"What do you think you're doing, Jen?" Martin asks gruffly.

Jennifer looks at him with one eyebrow raised. "I'm standing. Is that against the law?"

Martin ignores her comment and continues. "You know what I'm talking about," he looks at her accusingly. When Jennifer doesn't respond he grabs her wrist and pulls her to the side.

"I'm talking about you bringing _him_ here." Martin's face twists into a snarl as he tilts his head toward the stalls.

"Him as in who? Johnny?" Jennifer pulls her hand away from Martin and puts it on her hip. "What's wrong with me bringing Johnny here?"

"You know what's wrong with bringing him here, Jen," Martin hisses. "He's up to no good."

"And how would you know?" Jennifer scoffs.

"Because he's trash, Jennifer. You shouldn't hang around him."

"I happen to like hanging around him," Jennifer's voice betrays her anger. "And what right do you have to call him trash?"

"Come on, Jen. For starters, he lives in Mogis Hills."

"So does Max," Jennifer retorts. "Not too long ago you accused me of being a bigot, and now you're telling me Johnny's trash? Don't you find that a little bit hypocritical?"

"This is different, Jen," Martin protests. He pauses briefly, choosing his words carefully. "It's just not right to me. I can tell that there's something going on with him, and I don't think he has your best interests in mind."

"My interests are no longer any of your business, Martin," Jennifer states crisply. Martin gives her a pained expression and Jennifer feels a twinge of guilt.

"Martin," she softens her voice. "Even if something _is_ going on with Johnny, isn't church one of the best places to bring him?"

"Not this one," Martin folds his arms in discontent. "How do you know he's not just setting you up so he can take advantage of you?"

"Johnny's a nice guy. Besides, he needs Jesus just like everyone else." Jennifer tries to walk away, but Martin grabs her arm and turns her around.

"You're unequally yoked. You can't bring him to church and pretend he's a Christian just because you want to date him."

Jennifer wrenches her arm free from Martin's hand. She feels like slapping him. She almost does. Instead, she bites her lip again and lowers her voice to a near whisper.

"Martin, if I've learned anything this year it's this: Everyone needs Jesus, especially those who think they already have him. You have no idea what kind of person Johnny really is, so don't you dare stand here judging him when you don't know the first thing about him!"

"He's garbage, Jennifer," Martin scowls. Jennifer's hand reaches Martin's face before she can stop it. Her fingers sting, and they leave a red mark on Martin's right cheek. Martin's jaw flexes and his eyes widen in shock. Johnny leaves the bathroom and he and Jennifer make their way out of the youth room. Jennifer gives Martin a teary-eyed look before they leave.

Martin feels heat crawl up the back of his neck and grabs his jaw where she'd hit him. Someone had to have heard it. Martin knows he deserved it. Martin doesn't know where all his animosity is coming from, but he knows he was out of line. Even if Johnny is up to something, he's still a person with a soul. He's just as valuable as Max in God's eyes. Martin looks around. Where is Max?

#  CHAPTER TEN:

# Doubts

Max is in the kitchen when he hears a faint rapping on his window. He eyes the window warily, thinking it's the local children playing pranks. It dawns on him that Frank should be coming to get him soon. He walks over to the kitchen window, and, sure enough, Frank is standing outside next to a red Chevy.

Max wonders why Frank didn't just knock. His father isn't home. He and his friends from AA go out Wednesday nights, usually bowling, or to the movies or some similar activity. Max chuckles at the memory of his father coming home after a night at the skating rink. He'd been stiff as a board, needing one of the other men to help him in.

Max had assured his father that he would be okay tonight without him, despite the bruises and cuts on his face. Max opens the door just as Frank begins to walk up.

"You ready?" Frank asks with a crooked smile.

Max nods slightly. His lip is swollen, preventing him from smiling back.

"Yeah, I just gotta grab a jacket." Max grabs his jacket from the closet by the door and walks out, locking the door behind him. He and his father don't have much anyone would want, but they'd rather not take any chances.

Max feels guilty about missing bible study tonight. He'd had plenty of time to go and still make it back in time to meet up with Frank, but he didn't want to risk seeing Martin. The moment Martin saw his face he'd know something was up. His bruises and swellings would give him away, of course, but even without them, Max is easy to read. He wants to avoid having to explain going out with Frank tonight. Max knows he means well, but Martin has a tendency to want to control every decision in his life.

When they arrive, Max immediately feels conviction. The bonfire is, naturally, in the middle of the woods. They are in a large, grassy clearing, which reduces the risk of setting the trees on fire.

They are fairly early; the bonfire doesn't start until nine, but a small crowd has already gathered to light fires in the tall metal trashcans scattered throughout the area. Coolers are being unloaded from pickup trucks, as well as bags of marshmallows and other snacks. Someone has a grill blazing. Alongside it is a tray of hamburger patties.

Max hears his stomach growl despite himself as he inhales the scent of the cooking meat. Frank nudges him toward one of the burning cans and introduces him to a small group. Steve is the first person Max recognizes.

"Steve, you remember, Max, right?" Steve nods and glances at Max's bruised face.

"I hope you feel better than you look, man," he snickers.

Max grimaces and Frank introduces him to three or four other people. Max nods politely, making small talk.

"Is this where you usually meet?" Max asks.

"Only for big gatherings," Frank answers. "Most of the time we chat via the Internet or meet up at someone's house."

"Do you have problems with the cops coming out here or anything?" Max remembers on more than one occasion that a gathering in the woods ended with at least one visit from the boys in blue.

"Nah, all this land is privately owned by-"

"It's owned by one of the S.K.U.L.L.S. members, and that's all he needs to know," Steve cuts in, glaring at Frank. Frank gives him an apologetic look and changes the subject.

"We've got plenty of food, plenty to drink; soft drinks and water in the red coolers, the good stuff in the white. Feel free to walk around and mingle."

Frank pats him on the back and walks over to one of the trucks. He pulls down one of the white coolers and grabs a can of beer.

•••

Johnny is a few blocks from Jennifer's street when he stops the car. His mother let him borrow her car to pick up Jennifer and take her home. He watches Jennifer carefully. She'd been crying when they left the youth room, but she recovered when they got in the car, making jokes and light conversation.

_At least she's not upset anymore_ , Johnny thinks.

"You wanna talk about what happened between you and Martin?" Johnny asks.

"We had an argument about something, but it's not worth discussing," Jennifer shrugs. "I'm fine now."

It feels good to know that she isn't nervous around him. He hadn't planned this, and a part of his mind tells him he is foolish for even trying.

"Jennifer, I need to tell you something," he says quickly. He feels his chest tighten, and his breath quickens. His hands tingle in uncertainty. How will she react?

"What is it, Johnny?" she asks with concern. She cares about him. Johnny is certain of at least that.

"I need you to know that what I'm about to tell you, you can't tell anyone else, okay?" Johnny pleads with her. "I've never told anyone. I've never been able to trust anyone enough to share it. Until now."

Jennifer grabs his hand in a show of comfort. "It's alright, Johnny. You can talk to me."

Johnny grips the steering wheel and stares straight ahead, willing his breathing to remain normal.

_Just take it easy_ , he tells himself.

"Promise me you won't tell anyone?" he asks her again.

"Johnny, you can trust me."

Johnny nods and swallows the lump in his throat. "Jennifer, you know how your youth pastor was talking tonight? About how God would protect those that trust him?" Again, she nods.

"Well, I've been-" Johnny feels his emotions surging and pauses to recover. He can't cry. Not now.

"What is it?" Jennifer leans in closer to him.

"Jennifer, I'm not sure I buy into that." Johnny is quiet for a moment before speaking again. Jennifer patiently waits for him to continue.

"I don't know how to believe that God will protect me and my family. He hasn't done a very good job so far."

"What do you mean, Johnny?" Jennifer asks.

Johnny shakes his head. He shouldn't be telling her this. He should be trying to convince her that he believes the same way she does. But he can't stop himself.

"If God is a protector like you say he is, then why is there so much pain in the world? Why do we have to suffer so much?"

Jennifer pauses before speaking. "God's promises are for those who are His, Johnny."

"What about children, Jen? Do God's promises apply to children? What about my twin brothers, and my baby sister? Does God promise to protect them?"

Jennifer shakes her head in confusion. "I'm not sure what you mean."

Johnny continues. "It's a simple question, Jen. Children don't know how to become one of God's people. They just do what their parents tell them to do." Johnny becomes very quiet, remembering. Jennifer looks at him with empathy. She seems to want to say something, but she waits for him to continue.

"I was only a kid when it happened to me, no older than your brother Shawn." He looks down at the steering wheel and grits his teeth. "I always did what I was told."

"When what happened?" Jennifer asks quietly.

Johnny looks at Jennifer. His eyes glisten with tears waiting to be released, but he refuses to let them escape.

"I tried to do everything right, Jen," he continues. "I was a good boy. That's what my stepdad, Charles, used to call me. 'That's a good boy,' he'd say."

Johnny stops as a thought strikes him. "Do you know I don't even know who my real dad is? He left my mom and me before I was born. We had no place to go, and when I was five Charles took us in. I loved living with him for those first few months. Before he and my mom got married, he would bring me little gifts every day. He'd bring me candy or toys, or maybe a souvenir from somewhere. Then things changed." Johnny's expression darkens.

"What changed, Johnny?" Jennifer watches him carefully.

"Charles changed," Johnny replies with a shake of his head. "He stopped doing the things that he used to do. He stopped being nice. He started spanking me a lot, sometimes for no reason. He quit calling me a good boy, except when..."

A tear falls from Johnny's right eye and he stops briefly to wipe it.

"Johnny, it's okay," she tries to comfort him, placing her hand on his arm. "It's not your fault if your father mistreated you-"

"That man is NOT my father!" Johnny snarls. Jennifer jumps back, startled.

Johnny calms himself, lowering his voice as he speaks. "I'm sorry. I'm just gonna take you home, okay?"

Jennifer nods and looks away, embarrassed. Johnny pulls up to Jennifer's house, waiting until Jennifer is inside before allowing himself to breathe again. He'd almost blown everything. What will the Master do if Johnny somehow messes up his plans? The Master has more knowledge of the chant books than any other S.K.U.L.L.S. member. While he has the power to change things in Johnny's favor, he also has the means to reverse them and exact punishment for disobedience. What if he already knows about Johnny's near-confession? Johnny hopes the Master isn't that discerning.

Johnny pulls up to his house. His stepdad's truck is in the driveway and the garage door is open. Johnny assumes his mother left it open for him. His palms begin to sweat and he considers leaving the car parked on the road.

_Stop being a wimp and go,_ he tells himself _._ Johnny swallows the lump in his throat and pulls in to the garage. He turns off the engine and opens the door, but freezes halfway.

_Don't look._ Johnny glances down at the garage floor. Memories come flooding back and Johnny slams the door shut, starts the car, and backs out of the garage to park on the road. He waits until his breathing returns to normal before leaving the car.

When Johnny steps inside his house, everything is quiet. He checks on the twins first; both Mark and Matt are asleep on their bunk beds. Susan has her own room, but she isn't in it. Johnny peeks into his parents' room and sees Susan nestled comfortably between her father and mother. The scene reminds Johnny of what he used to do. As a child he used to sneak into their bed and lay between them. That soon stopped.

Johnny walks into his room and turns on his computer. Frank left him several messages about the bonfire tonight. Johnny forgot to mention that he made plans with Jennifer this evening, but it's still early. They usually light the fire and get started around nine, and the mingling won't die down until well after midnight. Johnny changes his clothes, dons his ear and nose ring, and leaves.

Just as he suspected, Johnny arrives just as things start heating up. The music is loud and several teens are dancing around the fires with drinks in their hands. A few familiar faces raise their drink in his direction, and he nods in reply. He walks past the main area into a deeper part of the trees. He needs to talk to Frank. Instead, he runs into Steve.

Steve grabs him by the shoulder. "The Master and I were just discussing you. We need to talk." Johnny shrugs, nonchalant, but his stomach begins to twist. What is this about?

"Hey, have you seen Frank?" Johnny asks.

"Yeah, he's over there entertaining," Steve replies, pointing in Frank's direction.

Johnny turns to look and swears out loud. Frank is close to the fire, laughing at a crispy marshmallow on his stick. What bothers him is that Martin's friend, Max is right beside him. Johnny quickly looks away when Max glances over in their direction. Max doesn't go to Logoria High anymore, but he's sure he and Martin are still close. Johnny doesn't need Max blabbing to Martin that he's a member of the S.K.U.L.L.S.

Steve pulls Johnny into a path hidden between two willow trees. A few yards later he's face to face with the Master. Tonight he wears a red cloak and party mask like the Phantom of the Opera. He removes it when Johnny and Steve stop just a few feet away.

"Johnny," the Master says his name as though he were calling a dog. "How are you? Is everything going as planned?" He leans forward, waiting for Johnny's reply.

"Yeah, I guess so," Johnny shrugs. "But what exactly is your plan?"

The Master leans back, surprised by his question.

"Excuse me?" he asks.

Johnny bows his head and raises his hands in his defense. "No offense; I was just wondering why we're doing all this to get at West. What's he got to do with anything?"

"Don't you _dare_ question me!" the Master snarls. He walks up to Johnny, gazing down on him with the glazed, wild eyes of an addict.

"You just do what I tell you, do you hear me? Or have you already forgotten that the only reason you're not still getting your brains kicked in is because I," he points at himself, "keep you safe. I protect you, and this is how you repay me?"

Johnny hesitates. "I just have a few reservations about all of this..."

"You doubt my power don't you?" The Master steps back and places his hands behind his back.

Johnny swallows. "No, of course not," he answers slowly. He wonders if turning to the Master for help had been a good idea.

"You do doubt me," the Master chuckles. "I see I'm going to have to teach you a lesson. You, my friend, are going to have to learn that I protect you, and I can take my protection away. Get out of my sight!"

Johnny looks at Steve, who is a few feet behind him. Steve sneers at him, and Johnny turns to leave. The Master is a fraud; by the time he reaches the car, he's convinced of that. The Master is no Master at all. Just a delusional drug addict. The so-called "Master" can no more protect his family from Charles Reese than his brothers Mark or Matt. Johnny allows himself to laugh a little at his foolishness as he drives off. He can forget all about the S.K.U.L.L.S. and the Master's plan and just enjoy his time with Jennifer. He looks forward to their moments together and is insanely happy about their date on Friday. Becoming Jennifer's friend is the only good thing that has come out of this whole situation.

As Johnny begins to pull up to his house, the doubts return. What if the Master is right? Hadn't Johnny asked for his help nearly two weeks ago? As soon as he'd gone to the Master, Mr. Reese became docile, making no attempts to harm Johnny or his mother at all. Was that just a coincidence?

Johnny rushes inside the house, checking every room, anxious with thoughts of the Master's threat. He goes to Mark and Matt's room first. His brothers are asleep in their beds. Matt is snoring profoundly; Mark lay with his legs halfway off of the bed. Johnny straightens him before checking his baby sister's room.

Susan is asleep in her bed, hugging her little baby doll close to her chest. Someone must have put her back in her bed. Johnny goes to his mother's room next, barely cracking the door.

His mother is on her back. Mr. Reese has his arms wrapped around her waist and is breathing deeply. Yes, everything is going well. He closes their door and smiles. He doesn't need the Master's protection. Everything is going to be fine.

•••

Max becomes more restless as the night wears on. Twice he's had to decline a cup of "the good stuff," as Frank put it, and his resistance is wearing thin. Everyone there seems to be having a good time. Max laughs to himself as he passes up a third offer. He remembers a time not too long ago when Martin had invited him to church. Max had countered his offer with an invitation to a party. Martin had preferred Bible study.

Now, watching all the teens laughing and joking and falling over drunk, Max understands why. Roaming around in a drunken stupor no longer holds any appeal for him. It's a snare he's worked hard to avoid the last several months. His father is still trying to find his way out. The last thing Max wants to do is drink. Thinking about it makes him sick to his stomach. Alcohol wrecked his life once. He'll never give it another chance. He has too much at stake.

Max feels the voice of the Holy Spirit and nods in agreement. It's time for him to go. If Frank isn't ready to leave, then Max decides he will walk. He can't allow himself to fall into temptation. Though he doesn't drink anymore, he knows himself well enough to avoid the pressure of his peers. He'll take a drink out of politeness and wind up miserably intoxicated a few hours later.

He's fighting an uphill battle, and he knows he's susceptible to a relapse despite himself. Officer Kent taught him that. Max knows the statistics. He also knows the scripture, 1 Corinthians 10:12: "Let him that thinks he stands take heed lest he fall."

The moment he thinks he is strong enough to handle a situation like this will prove to be his weakest. He's risking a lot having stayed this long.

Max looks around for Frank and finds him near a red pickup truck, joking with a girl Max recognizes from Wellis. She is leaning in close to Frank and whispering something in his ear. Frank smiles and is about to walk away with her in tow when Max calls out his name.

"Frank! Over here," Max hollers. Frank waves at him, less enthusiastic than he was earlier that evening. Max waves him over and Frank, after kissing the girl and promising to return, heads in his direction.

"Hey, I've got to get out of here," Max gets straight to the point.

Frank raises his eyebrows. "So soon? It's just getting started here, Max. Have a drink or something, loosen up. I'm sure you'll-"

"No, that's just it Frank," Max puts his hands in his pockets. "I don't belong here, Frank. I appreciate what you did for me today, I really do. But this isn't for me, man. I'm a Christian. I spend my Wednesday nights in Bible study now. My late nights and partying days are behind me."

Frank looks shocked but says nothing. Max allows himself to share a bit of his testimony with Frank.

"My mom was killed last fall by a drunk driver coming home from a party. I drank almost every day before that, and I swore not to fall back into a lifestyle like that again. "I've given my life to God, now, and I can't go back on my word. Besides, it may be that God allowed you to find me today so that I'd talk to you now."

Max is surprised at his boldness. Talking about his faith during the middle of a bonfire in the woods is laughable. It sounds like something a fanatic would do. Max knows that the Holy Spirit is leading him and ignores the self-conscious thoughts that try to surface. Though he hasn't said anything, Frank is definitely listening. Max exhales and finishes his story.

"Frank, I don't know why you joined the S.K.U.L.L.S. or what your situation is at home. All I know is that I already have someone looking out for me with or without the S.K.U.L.L.S.' protection. If you hadn't been there, God would have sent someone else to help me. But He allowed you to be at the right place at the right time to help me, and now I'm going to help you. Not by preaching at you or anything, but by sharing what He's already done for me." Max and Frank both look at the fire as it cracks and pops.

"I can respect that," Frank says quietly. "I'll take you home."

Max nods and they both head out to Frank's car. Frank pulls off in silent thought, barely glancing at Max as he drives. After a few minutes, Frank turns on the radio. Max wonders if he offended Frank. He prays quietly that Frank will see Christ through him. Frank watches the road intensely. When they pull up to Max's home, Frank turns off the radio. Max thanks him and is about to open the door when Frank stops him.

"Max," he hesitates. Max looks at him and waits. "Be careful on the streets, ok?"

Max nods. He waits a moment longer, but whatever Frank had been about to say won't be coming out tonight. He gets out and walks to his front door, waving to Frank before he goes inside.

His head aches and his knee is stiff, but Max knows that today was no coincidence. God allowed him to suffer in order to plant a seed into Frank's life. Judging by the look on Frank's face earlier, Max knows he's done just that.

#  CHAPTER ELEVEN:

# Spring Fever

Jennifer opens the door and Johnny feels his pulse quicken.

She's stunning.

Jennifer's dark brown eyes perfectly offset her cream-colored gown. Her hair is up in a flawless mass of curly ringlets, with a single lock hanging carelessly in the front.

Johnny sucks in his breath and whistles. "You look beautiful, Jen," he says more to himself than to her.

Jennifer smiles. "Thank you, sir." Jennifer looks Johnny over. His chocolate brown suit complements his sandy blonde hair. He's standing up straight, revealing his full height. "You look good."

Johnny smiles, looking very comfortable in his skin. Jennifer grabs his hand in excitement.

"Shall we?" she asks.

"After you," Johnny gives a slight bow and moves over so she can walk past him. She calls out a brief goodnight to her mom before stepping outside with Johnny.

When they arrive at the school, the parking lot is quiet and only halfway full. The mood magically changes when they get inside, with activity increasing as they walk down the hall. Johnny and Jennifer can hear the squealing tires and clacking stilettos outside.

Jennifer grabs Johnny's hand as he helps her down the steps to the recently transformed gym. The bleachers are folded back to make room for the dance floor, the food and drink tables are on the sides, and a live band plays something upbeat.

Johnny admires the decorations, noting the details Jennifer points out to him as they walk to the center of the dance floor. Someone booms a welcome over the microphone, thanking them for participation in the annual Logoria High Spring Dance and a few more slow songs play.

•••

Martin hopes Jennifer will be here tonight. He wants to apologize to her for the way he's acted since Wednesday night. He expects her to come with Johnny but holds out hope that she'll come alone. That hope dissipates as she walks in with her arm linked around Johnny's.

Martin sighs. At least she's here. Martin watches her glide delicately to the other side of the dance floor towards the platform. Her smile lights up the room. She looks phenomenal in her cream colored evening gown. He is tempted to walk over to her now and pull her from Johnny's arm. He resists the impulse and reminds himself that he is here to make peace, not start a fight. He walks over to the punch table. He will take his time and wait.

•••

Johnny thoroughly enjoys dancing with Jennifer. They dance to nearly every slow song, and each time he feels closer to Jennifer than before. He has to make his move. This opportunity might not come again, and if it does, he might not have the nerve. He slows his footing and leans his head towards her ear.

"Jennifer, there's something I want to say to you."

Jennifer lifts her head slightly. "Do you want to sit down and talk?" she puts her hand on his shoulder and slows her steps to match his tempo.

"No, this is perfect," Johnny assures her. He leans over her, placing his cheek on hers. He can feel her smiling. "I just wanted to let you know how I feel about you," he tells her softly.

Jennifer feels heat rise to her face. Her heart flutters and she swallows. "Oh?"

Johnny grabs both her hands and places them around his neck. He looks into her eyes and smiles. Jennifer's eyes shift slightly to the left as a curl falls out of place. Johnny pulls it back, briefly brushing her cheek as he does. Electricity shoots through her at the touch and she looks into his eyes. Johnny knows he can't hold back any longer.

"Jen, I'm crazy about you," he confesses. Each word is loaded with intensity. "I have been since that first day we spoke at the library." His whole body is trembling. He is anxious to tell her how he feels. He looks down at his shoes for a moment before returning his gaze to her eyes. He speaks softer, but the intensity in his eyes remains.

"Jennifer, I can't really express in words how you make me feel. You're the best friend I've ever had, and I want you to know how much you mean to me. I love everything about you, and I want you to consider..." Johnny pauses.

"Consider what?" Jennifer searches his face anxiously.

"I want you to consider us being more than friends," he finally replies. Jennifer's eyelashes flicker with an emotion Johnny can't read. Now it is her turn to look away.

"You mean, you want me to be your girlfriend?" she asks. Her voice is barely loud enough to be considered a whisper.

"Yes," Johnny replies. He turns her chin toward him softly with his hand. "Would you consider it?" he asks, moving in closer to her.

Jennifer smiles, though her stomach is in knots. The atmosphere between them is fully charged, and she feels herself falling into him. She wraps her fingers around his neck to keep her balance and nods at him. He smiles as he places both of his hands on her face and draws her close to him. He searches her eyes for any signs of hesitation, but finds none. He leans in close and kisses her. After a few seconds he is pleasantly surprised with the fact that she isn't pushing him away. She is kissing him back.

Johnny feels as though he is floating. Though the kiss lasts less than thirty seconds, the feeling of her touch lingers for an eternity. He keeps his face close to hers as they continue their slow dance. She wraps her arms tighter around his neck, and they stay in that embrace until the song ends.

•••

Martin nearly spits out his punch when he sees Jennifer kissing Johnny- or Johnny kissing Jennifer. Who kissed who doesn't matter. The point is that they're kissing, and Jennifer isn't pulling away. She's closer now.

How can she kiss Johnny? Martin cares about her; more than the connection between brothers and sisters in Christ. Doesn't she know that? He spends more time with her than anyone else. Not recently, of course, but before their fight they were together almost every day.

Martin pours himself another cup of punch and drinks it quickly. Of course she is kissing Johnny. The two of them have been breathing each other's air for weeks now, and Martin has never once bothered to share his feelings with her. Regret hovers over Martin like a raincloud as he watches them holding each other. He's too late. Jennifer's taken - and by Johnny Reese, of all people! Martin narrows his eyes at Johnny. Stealing Jennifer from him is a low blow, and the longer he thinks about it, the worse Martin feels. How fitting for Johnny to pay him back by dating Jennifer.

Martin frowns at the cup in his hand. What if it's true? What if Johnny is only with Jen to get to him? He's considered this a million times before. It makes sense. Jennifer is obviously smitten with him. If Johnny is only toying with her emotions, she'll end up hurt more than anyone else. He has to do something.

Without another thought, Martin walks toward Johnny and Jennifer. The song has ended, but the two of them are still locked in an embrace.

"Jennifer I need to talk to you," Martin stops just a few inches away from the couple. They're startled out of their embrace, and Jennifer turns blazing eyes on Martin.

"What is it?" she asks through clenched teeth.

Martin opens his mouth, but pauses. He hadn't actually considered what he would say. He has no real plan and only one objective: to expose Johnny's charade. Jennifer is not amused.

"Martin, you're being rude, and I really don't want to be bothered by you now." Martin opens his mouth again to speak, but Jennifer holds up her hand. "Please, Martin, just leave before I say something I might regret." Jennifer pleads with her eyes for him to go, and Johnny glares at him with clenched fists.

_Good_ , Martin thinks. At least his slimy hands aren't on Jennifer anymore. He knows he is making a fool of himself, but he has to make Jennifer see she is being tricked.

"Jennifer, he's playing you. Can't you see that?" Jennifer looks as though she might slap him again. Maybe he should try subtlety. "Jen, he's not what he seems to be," he tries again.

"Please, not this again," Jennifer looks away from him in disgust.

"Yes!" Martin feels his frustration rise to an all-time high. "The only reason he's with you is because of me, Jennifer! I figured it out!" Johnny's mouth gapes open and Jennifer turns to Martin. A fierce look quickly replaces the one that pleaded for reason.

"You are so full of yourself!" she cries. "Everything's about you, isn't it?" Martin backs up as Jennifer inches toward him. He shakes his head, but Jennifer doesn't relent.

"I've gotten nothing from you but insults and accusations and I'm sick of it, Martin! It seems like the only things you have to say to me are negative. 'Jen's stuck up;' 'Jen's a bigot;' 'Jen's an idiot.' You know what Jen really is? Jen's tired of being blamed for your insecurity, Martin. Get over yourself!"

Martin swallows his hurts. "Jennifer, that's not it at all. I'm only trying to protect you!"

Johnny finally finds his voice. "Hey back off, Martin." Johnny places his hand on Martin's shoulder, but Martin quickly flicks it away.

"Touch me again, and I'll break your fingers," Martin snaps. His temper flares, and, if Johnny touches him again, he'll certainly break something.

"Really?" Jennifer shakes her head sadly. "Honestly, Martin, what's going on with you?" When he doesn't say anything, Jennifer speaks for him.

"I'll tell you what this is about, Martin. You're a jealous, lonely boy. You're jealous because someone else is enjoying life while you're making yours miserable. You're jealous because Johnny and I are friends. When you thought I wasn't good enough to be your friend I left you alone, but now that I'm happy you can't stand it. Johnny's twice the friend you ever were, and the only thing I regret is not getting to know him sooner."

Martin bites his lip and glares first at Jennifer, then at Johnny. Finally, he backs up.

"Fine!" he huffs. "If you want to be stupid, Jen, I can't stop you. Don't say I didn't warn you!" Martin stalks off, intentionally knocking over a stack of plastic cups as he walks out. Jennifer watches him go and can't help the tears that force their way out. She sniffs and Johnny grabs a napkin from a nearby table. He hands her the napkin and wraps his arms around her.

"I'm sorry about that," she sniffles.

"Hey it's okay," he says softly. "It's not your fault." Johnny feels lousy inside. Most of what Martin said was true. Jennifer had defended him in ignorance. He rocks her back and forth and, as a new song begins to play, they slowly sway to the rhythm of the music.

•••

Martin loses it. He knows he's driving way too fast, but he can't will himself to hit the brakes. With any luck, he'll strike a pole and end it all. His friendship with Jennifer is over. He's pathetic as far as she's concerned. But Jennifer doesn't know what she's doing. Johnny is all wrong for her. Martin doesn't notice the stoplight change to red. He swears as he runs the light, nearly colliding with an oncoming vehicle as he passes the intersection.

He needs to calm down. Martin finally slows down and turns down a back road. He hasn't misbehaved in months, and now he's making threats, breaking traffic laws and cussing. His heart aches, and God seems far away. Martin can't blame Him. At this moment, Martin is sick of himself.

And Jennifer! No wonder she can't stand him. His behavior towards her has been lousy for months. Mr. James calls episodes like this one "fleshing out." Martin finds himself caught up in the middle of them way too often. He turns a corner and pulls to a four way stop. There are no other cars coming, but he decides to stay there anyway. He has to come to terms with something, here and now.

He's in love with Jennifer Smith.

Martin slams his hand onto the steering wheel in frustration. From his rearview mirror he sees lights; Red and blue flashing lights. Apprehension creeps up his spine as the officer's siren blips. Martin pulls his car onto the grass by the stop sign and cuts the engine.

A tall male officer gets out of the patrol car and slowly makes his way to Martin. Martin rolls down the window as he approaches and is blinded by a flashlight; Martin instinctively turns away.

"You must've been in a pretty big hurry to run a light back there, son. License and registration."

Martin blinks away the blurry haze of the flashlight. He reaches into his pocket for his ID and grabs his registration from the glove compartment.

"I'm sorry, Officer."

"I'm inclined to haul you off downtown," the officer grabs Martin's ID and registration, "and put you in a little cell, Mr. uh..." the officer looks down at Martin's ID and pauses.

"Hmm," is all he says. He walks back to his patrol car and Martin sees through his window that he is on the radio. Martin slinks down in his seat. His father is going to kill him.

•••

"You ran a red light?" Mr. West is livid. He looks back from the officer to Martin. Martin's head hangs low. The officer's expression is firm, but compassionate.

"I talked to the boy, and he seems to understand the error of his ways."

Mr. West is not satisfied. "He nearly collided with another car, you said so yourself."

The officer clears his throat. "Well, sir, I'll leave this to you. I thought it a courtesy to let you deal with it privately. Good night." The officer makes a quick and silent exit, and Martin is left to face his father alone. For a long time, Mr. West glares at his son. Martin is the first to break the silence.

"Dad, I'm sorry, I-"

"Save it, Martin!" his father cuts him off. "You were acting out, the same as you've always done. The only thing you're sorry about is getting caught. I thought we were done with all of this!"

"I know you're disappointed with me, Dad," Martin tries again. "I messed up, and I'm sorry. It won't happen again, I swear."

Mr. West looks away. "No it won't happen again, Martin. I'm taking your keys. Until further notice, your car is gone."

Martin begins to protest but holds himself back. "Could you clarify that? I'm not sure I understand?"

"I mean, from this moment on, you have two modes of transportation: the bus and your feet! I'm pretty sure you can do a lot less damage with two feet than with three tons of metal."

Martin wrings his hands and gives his father a bewildered look. "Can't we talk about this, Dad?"

"Sure!" Mr. West says sarcastically. "Martin, I want you to hand me your keys." Martin fishes his keys out of his pocket and takes off the ring holding his car key. He hands it slowly to his father, waiting for the lecture. Mr. West locks his eyes onto Martin's.

"This discussion is now closed. Go to your room before I take something else." Martin obeys and closes the door as quietly as he can manage.

He knew the consequences would be unpleasant, but he hadn't expected his father to be so cold. He didn't even ask Martin what was _really_ wrong with him. He skipped the trial and went straight to the sentencing part. Martin groans in frustration. Mr. James would have gotten to the root of the problem first.

Martin's heart aches as he thinks about Jennifer. Is she with Johnny right now? Are they still dancing? Still holding each other? Are they kissing again? Jennifer isn't the type to flirt or throw herself at a guy, but will she allow things to go too far with Johnny? Are they together now, officially?

A part of Martin gently encourages him to pray, but Martin's unable to get past his first few words without thinking about Jennifer again. After a third attempt, he stops altogether. Mr. James is wrong. Prayer doesn't solve anything. Things have gotten worse since he started to pray. No, he'll just have to find another way to get through to Jennifer.

Martin feels a weight come over him as he ponders another important question. Will she ever speak to him again?

#  CHAPTER TWELVE:

# Truth

Sunday afternoon, Johnny and Jennifer go out on their first official date. He goes with her to church in the morning, and in the afternoon they have a picnic at Logoria Memorial Park.

"This is really good," Jennifer confesses with a smile as she bites into the sandwich Johnny made.

Johnny smiles at the compliment, taking a huge bite out of his own sandwich. "Well I did try to tell you I make a great sandwich. But no, you said, 'Sandwiches are easy. _Anybody_ can make a sandwich.' How do you feel now?"

Jennifer rolls her eyes, but Johnny stares her down. "Okay! I admit it! I've never had a sandwich this good. Happy?"

"Uh huh," Johnny smiles smugly and sets his sandwich down. "But, do you know what would make me happier?"

"What?" Jennifer asks as she wipes her mouth with a napkin.

"If you let me have a kiss?" he replies with amusement.

Jennifer smiles shyly and Johnny leans in close to kiss her. Just before his lips reach hers, Jennifer turns her head and takes another bite of her sandwich, forcing Johnny to kiss her on the cheek.

"Cheater," he whispers in her ear. Jennifer only smiles and takes another bite of her sandwich.

"So, I'm curious," Johnny begins speaking as Jennifer finishes her sandwich. "You're Hispanic, right?"

Jennifer nods and gives him a sideways glance. "Puerto Rican. Why do you ask?"

Johnny shrugs. "Your last name is Smith. It just seems kind of odd to me that it's not Gomez or Hernandez or something."

Jennifer raises an eyebrow at him. "My father was adopted by his stepdad and took his last name."

"So I guess he wasn't Hispanic?"

"No, German," Jennifer's tone changes. "Johnny, do you have a problem with me being Puerto Rican?"

"No, of course not!" Johnny kicks himself internally. "I was just curious, that's all."

"Are you sure?" Jennifer looks unconvinced. "Because you said something to Martin last year..." Jennifer doesn't finish and Johnny exhales in frustration. He knew that would come back to bite him one day.

"Jen, I don't know why I said that," Johnny tries to explain. "I'm not that kind of guy, though, ok?"

"Why did you fight with Martin?" Jennifer asks abruptly.

"Jen, he started it," Johnny doesn't like where this conversation is headed.

"The second fight," she clarifies.

Johnny shrugs in nonchalance, but his insides twist with dread.

_You want to know why?_ he thinks. _My stepfather gave me no choice._

"I guess I thought I had something to prove," he finally answers. Jennifer stares at him a long time, measuring his words.

"You remind me a lot of him," Jennifer states softly. "It's hard to imagine you being anything else but the sweet guy I know. It's hard to believe you'd actually be violent... or vindictive. The other night, when you were talking about your stepdad, you were trying to tell me something. I don't want to push you, Johnny, but if you want to talk to me about it, it's ok." Johnny runs a hand through his hair. He has to turn this around.

"Have you ever done something you wish you could take back, Jen?" Jennifer frowns, nodding yes.

"I have regrets, no doubt," Johnny takes her hand in his. "But you know what I don't regret? Meeting you." Jennifer smiles and closes her hand around his.

"We can't change the past, so let's just enjoy the present, huh?" Jennifer nods and leans her head against his. Johnny enjoys her closeness, wishing they could stay like this forever. But eventually the sun goes down and they're forced to part ways.

•••

Johnny walks home on clouds. He barely notices his stepdad's truck in the driveway as he walks inside. He makes his way to his room, but stops when he hears a noise coming from the garage. Johnny freezes when he hears his brother Matt's distinct voice.

"I don't like dis game," Matt's muffled voice travels into the house.

"Hush now," Johnny hears Mr. Reese's chastisement. "Do as I say!"

Johnny's heart fills with dread and he rushes into the garage. Mr. Reese is sitting on a stool with Matt in his lap. Matt is only wearing his underwear and Mr. Reese has his pants unzipped.

"What do you think you're doing?" Johnny hears himself scream at his stepfather. He pulls Matt away from him before the shock wears off. He's literally been caught with his pants down.

"Matt, go to your room. Now!" He pushes his brother through the garage door and faces Mr. Reese, who's begun to fluster.

"What are you doing?" Johnny repeats, trying to calm his breathing. He suddenly thinks of the other children, and his mother. "Where's everyone else? Where's mom?"

When Mr. Reese doesn't answer right away, Johnny grabs him by his shirt and hauls him out of the stool. Apparently, working out has paid off. Mr. Reese loses his balance and falls to the floor. Johnny's vision blurs with rage, and he lunges at Charles Reese. He pushes him into a shelf mounted on the wall, and several items crash to the floor. Johnny grabs Mr. Reese by his shirt and slams him against the concrete floor.

Mr. Reese flails his arms wildly in defense as his head collides with the ground. Johnny thrashes his fists into Mr. Reese's head, blind with fury. Mr. Reese gropes for something to defend himself and finds the handle of a shovel. He brings the shovel down hard against Johnny's head. Johnny groans before crumpling to the floor. Matt returns to the garage, eyes alight with fear.

"What's happening?" he asks with tears streaming down his face. He looks frantically from Johnny to his father.

"Don't worry about it," Mr. Reese waves his hand in dismissal as he attempts to rise. He's seeing double and he's bleeding from the back of his head.

"Come with me, we'll go back to your room." Mr. Reese reaches out his hand, and Matt reluctantly takes it. Mr. Reese hobbles down the hallway until they get to Matt's room.

"Come lay on your bed," Mr. Reese orders him to his bunk bed. Matt sniffs, hesitating as he watches his father.

"What are you waiting for?" Mr. Reese asks him gruffly. Matt jumps nervously at his father's voice and climbs the small ladder to the top bunk. He sits on the top of the bed and coughs. Mr. Reese watches him silently for a moment. Matt sniffs and wipes his nose, glancing back at him.

"Dad, did you hurt Johnny?" he asks.

"Probably," Mr. Reese shrugs.

"Why?" Matt asks.

"Because he was trying to hurt me."

"Why?" Matt asks with child-like innocence. Mr. Reese feels his face become hot.

"Enough questions!" he growls. "Just get into bed before I-" Mr. Reese freezes as he feels something cold against the back of his head.

"Get away from my brother," Johnny hisses.

"You don't want to do that, son," Mr. Reese tries to speak calmly, but can't disguise the tremor in his voice.

"Back up slowly," Johnny commands. Mr. Reese obeys and they both move slowly until they are out of Matt's room. Matt watches in horror as Johnny and his father leave. Johnny orders Mr. Reese to shut Matt's bedroom door.

"Don't shoot him!" Matt cries as the door blocks his vision.

"Now turn around!" Johnny barks. Mr. Reese turns around. Johnny has tears streaming down his face and a trickle of blood trailing down the side of his neck.

"Put the gun down, Johnny," Mr. Reese takes a step toward him.

"Back up!" Johnny barks.

Johnny tilts the gun toward the living room and Mr. Reese sidesteps to the left until his back faces the living room. Johnny follows, the gun pointed directly at Mr. Reese's head.

"Just take it easy!" Mr. Reese keeps his eyes on the gun as he speaks.

"Shut up!" Johnny cries. "You stay away from us!"

"Okay, son, just calm down," Mr. Reese pleads.

"I'm _not_ your son!" Johnny fumes through clenched teeth. "Now get out of here you sick-"

Johnny and Mr. Reese both turn as the front door opens. Mrs. Reese walks in with Mark and Susan at her side. Mrs. Reese is smiling as she chats with the children, but freezes when she sees the gun in Johnny's hand.

"Johnny!" she gasps, the blood draining from her face. "Where did you get that?" his mother trails off, and Johnny turns just in time to see Mr. Reese lunge forward in attack. The gun goes off as Mr. Reese grabs Johnny's arm, and Mrs. Reese screams. Johnny cries out in pain as Mr. Reese twists his arm.

He hears the gun go off again and feels a sharp pain in his left temple. His stepfather is in front of him, but Johnny feels himself falling. Charles Reese looms over him, and his vision blurs to gray and then black before he loses consciousness.

•••

Max jumps from his bed and onto the floor as sounds of gunshots echo outside, breaking into a cold sweat as he tries to calm his pounding heart. The shots sounded far away. After a few more minutes of silence, he decides it's safe enough to get up.

He's had the same dream for the past week. Every night he finds himself in the woods. His mother leads him to an abandoned house, engulfed in flames, in the middle of a clearing. He goes to the window and sees a body trapped inside. He doesn't know what it means.

Memories from his dream slowly slip away as anxiety takes over. Max rubs his temples and whispers a prayer of protection. Soon his fear gives way to the peace of God, and his heart slows to a normal rate.

Max gets up and heads to the kitchen. Just the night before, there was a drive-by shooting. His neighbors had warned Max and his father to crouch down on the floor whenever gunshots were heard; how far away they sounded or from which direction they came didn't matter.

Max has taken the advice to heart, and puts the method into practice frequently. A year ago, he hadn't been aware that this way of life existed in Logoria. In fact, he'd have laughed if anyone had told him a few months ago that he'd be ducking from thugs and drive-by shootings before the end of his junior year.

Max grabs a cup from the cabinet and pours himself a glass of water. Hardship is new to him. He never gave poverty any thought before, taking for granted that he'd always have the things he needed. His mother worried about those things and made sure they lived in a safe place. Despite the antagonistic efforts of Max and his father, she'd been determined to make a good home for them. Max misses her so much now that his heart aches. He allows a few tears to escape as he stares at his cup. It's one of his mother's crystal glasses; collecting crystal had been one of his mother's hobbies. She would always get excited when a package full of crystal ware would show up at the house. It was the only thing she bought for herself.

Max shakes his head. He used to mock her for her excitement whenever she brought in a new glass. She'd unload everything with a huge smile on her face, carefully holding each piece as if the slightest bit of pressure could break it. And Max certainly broke his fair share. Sometimes he'd do it on purpose, just to be spiteful. His mother put up with so much. He'd be willing to replace every glass he ever broke if she were here. She deserved better.

Max sighs. He's determined that, no matter what, he'll make it up to her. Even though she's no longer here, he can make her proud by becoming the man she wants him to be. He'll be kind, and warm, and giving, just like her. Max tried to be all those things right after his mother died, but he constantly felt himself struggling. He didn't have it in him before. Now, Max has the Holy Spirit guiding him. Every day he spends in his new faith teaches him something different. He is slowly learning to be led by the Spirit, though at times it hurts.

Max wonders if the dreams he's been having are some sort of message God is trying to get through to him. Had it been a vision, like the dreams he'd had about Tammie? If Mr. Kent were here, he'd ask him for his advice.

Max decides if he has the dream again, he'll call Mr. Kent. He left Max his number, assuring him that he would make himself available whenever Max needed him, but Max has never called.

Somehow, it seems childish to call Mr. Kent for every little thing that seems big for the moment. Max almost called him the day he was beat up by thugs just a few blocks from home, but decided against it. He's being led by Spirit, and wherever the Spirit wills him, that's where he'll go.

•••

Johnny feels the coolness of a rag against his head as he stirs. He blinks several times to clear his vision. To his left, his mother looks at him, holding the rag in place. To his right, his brothers and sister stare at him with worried eyes. Susan is crying, but the boys are quiet. Johnny tries to get up, but his mother stops him.

"Don't get up too fast," she says quickly. "You'll make yourself sick." Johnny obeys. Remembering his stepfather, his heart skips a beat.

"Where's Charles?" His mother begins to shake her head in bewilderment.

"I don't understand, Johnny. Why did you do it?"

Johnny suddenly panics as he remembers the gun going off. He looks again to his brothers and sister, then back to his mother.

"Is he... did I shoot him?" he asks with a quiver in his voice.

"Johnny, he's gone," his mother cries. Johnny's face pales. Charles Reese is dead?

"I... killed him?" Johnny asks. His mother looks at him with annoyance.

"No, Johnny! I mean he's gone! He took off!"

Relief gives way to anger as Johnny considers all that took place. He shakes his head and scowls.

"He ran away so he wouldn't have to take responsibility. He's a coward." He grabs his head, noticing for the first time the goose egg forming on the left side of his head.

His mother looks at him in shock. "Johnny, he ran away because you held a gun to his head! Your _father_! You threatened his life!"

"With _your_ gun!" Johnny stares at his mother.

She stiffens. "Johnny, that gun was for protection for when your father was out of town. I don't know how you found out about it, but if I'd known that you might try something like this, I never would have bought it!"

"I had to stop him!" Johnny shouts.

"Stop him from what, Johnny? What did he do?" his mother cries. "What could be so horrible that you would threaten _my_ husband with a gun?"

" _Your_ husband beats the crap out of us every day, mom! Isn't that enough?" Johnny is livid. How can she be defending him?

"He's not perfect, Johnny, but other people have it worse! He's rough, I know, but he's a good man!"

"No, he's evil, and sadistic and he goes out of his way to make sure we're miserable." Johnny shakes his head in disbelief. "I can't believe you're still defending him after all he's done to us, what he's done to me! What he was trying to do to Matt!" Johnny feels his head swimming, but he is too angry to care.

His mother places a hand on her head. "Charles loves us, Johnny. He loves you and he loves Matt. He's never laid a hand on him or Mark or Susan."

"That's not what I saw." Johnny rasps.

"What are you talking about?" she asks, eyeing him warily.

"I'm talking about that sicko putting his hands on my baby brother, that's what!" Johnny sits up and waits for the room to stop spinning.

"You don't know what you saw Johnny! Matt told me they were playing a game and you walked in and started the whole thing!"

"I know what I saw, Mom!" Johnny raises his voice an octave. "That monster had his hands on my brother. I swear to God I wish I'd shot him dead before you got here!"

"You can't mean that, Johnny," his mother dismisses the thought.

Johnny looks at his mother. "I do mean it, Mom. And if I see him near any of them again, I'll kill him."

His mother rolls her eyes and throws up her hands. "Dear God, Johnny, they were playing a game!"

"No! That's what he told Matt, but I know better. He had Matt on his lap and his pants were unzipped. He was fondling him, Mom. If I hadn't come in, there's no telling what he would have done!"

"I don't believe this!" his mother replies. "Would you listen to yourself? Your father would _never_ do that. He might be angry and even violent at times, Johnny, but he would never touch Matt like that!"

"You don't know him like I do," Johnny replies.

"You're right, Johnny. I've only spent the last eleven years as his wife. Of course I don't know him as well as you do!" she states sarcastically. "Give me a break, Johnny! What is it you're after? You made a mistake, so now you're trying to cover it up by saying something about him that I know isn't true. He would never do what you're saying."

"Yes he would!" Johnny says quickly. "I know he would."

"How do you know your father is capable of such awful things?" his mother snaps. Johnny swallows hard and looks away.

"He's not my father."

His mother realizes that the children are still in the room. "Mark, Matt, Susan out. All of you out, now!" The three children trail silently out of the room. As soon as they leave, Johnny's mother lays into him.

"How dare you, Johnny? He may not have contributed to your conception, but he's as good a father as you're going to get! Do you think anybody else wanted someone like me? A homeless, high school dropout with a four-year-old son is _not_ any man's dream come true, Johnny. Wake up! Things will never be perfect, but I won't have you accusing my husband of molesting Matt."

"Mom, they aren't safe around him," Johnny shakes his head. "You don't know what he's capable of."

His mother rolls her eyes. "And what makes you so sure?" she scoffs. Johnny looks at his mother with a pained expression before turning away from her. She watches him for a long time.

"Tell me, Johnny!" More silence.

"Answer me!" she turns Johnny around to face her. He looks at her angrily.

"What do you want me to say, Mom?"

"I'm just trying to understand," she speaks softly. "Tell me why?"

Johnny exhales slowly, his eyes downcast. "Because he's done it before. To me." Tears run abruptly from his eyes and he quickly wipes them away. He knows she won't believe him. Her next words prove it.

"I don't believe you," she whispers with trembling lips. "You're a liar, Johnny. You hear me? A liar!"

Johnny looks up at her. "But, Mom, I'm telling the truth!"

Too quickly for him to react, his mother slams her hand across his face. "I won't tolerate this, Johnny. Get out! You have no right to accuse him when all he's done is take care of you the best he knows how!"

Johnny reaches for her hand and pleads, "Mom... "

"Get out!" she shrieks. "I don't care where you go! I want you out of my house!" She points in the direction of the door.

"Please, I'm telling the truth!" Johnny tries again.

His mother shakes her head. "My children aren't safe around you, and I don't feel safe around you, either. Get out!"

Johnny shakes his head, straightens himself and walks out. He passes his brothers and sister, ignoring their questions, and goes out the front door. It doesn't matter now if his stepfather is out of the picture or not. His mother has taken sides, and he's all alone.

#  CHAPTER THIRTEEN:

# Stick to the Plan

Wednesday comes and goes with no word from Mr. Reese. Johnny had feared his stepfather would retaliate against him or his mother for what happened, but the Master assured him he'd be fine. Johnny had gone straight to him after his mother kicked him out, and the Master had sent him home with instructions to wait. His mother let him back in the house, so long as he promised not to cause trouble.

Wednesday night Johnny gets an email from Steve telling him to meet with the Master again. Johnny meets with the Master at the usual place in the woods; the meeting is brief.

"You're going out with Jennifer tomorrow," the Master informs him. "Arrangements have already been made." He hands Johnny a folded piece of white paper. "I want you to make sure that West gets this note tomorrow, but don't hand it to him. He has to think it's for Jennifer. I don't care how you do it, just get it done."

Johnny nods in consent and looks at the note. "What does it say?"

"That's none of your concern!" the Master sneers. "If you open it, I'll know, so don't even think about it." He dismisses Johnny with a wave of his hand and Johnny turns to leave.

"One more thing," the Master adds. Johnny pauses to listen. "If you want your life back, don't doubt me again." Johnny nods solemnly and walks away.

•••

Johnny spends Thursday morning looking for opportunities to get the note to Martin. He gets his chance just after lunch. Martin, Jennifer, and Johnny all share the same English class.

Martin beats Johnny to the desk next to Jennifer, but their instructor has them rearrange desks into circles for group discussions on the novel _The Grapes of Wrath_ by John Steinbeck. During the confusion, Johnny ends up next to Jennifer, and Martin ends up in the desk across from them. After the first round of discussions ends, Johnny passes his first note to Jen.

Hey, does any of this stuff make sense to you?

J.R.

Jen reads the note and makes a face. Quietly she writes a reply.

No; but pay attention. This "stuff" will be on the final exam.

J.S.

Johnny reads it and exchanges a grin with Jennifer. Across the way, Martin scowls and shifts in his desk. Johnny smiles to himself and scribbles another note.

Hard to pay attention when I'm next to such a pretty girl.

J.R.

Johnny pauses mid transfer as a student directs a question his way.

"So what do you think, Johnny?"

Johnny hems for a moment; he hasn't been paying attention.

"Um... I think John Steinbeck lost me after the first chapter." Everyone in the group laughs, except Martin.

"Yeah, and what's with the chapter dedicated to a turtle?" another student jumps in. "How random is that?" More laughs and jokes erupt until finally their instructor intervenes.

"Need I remind you that this is supposed to be a _serious_ discussion?" she sniffs.

Everyone sobers and the discussion continues. Johnny passes the note to Jen. She reads it and blushes. She turns away from him as she writes her reply. He strains his neck to look over her shoulder, but she pushes him away.

Suddenly, Martin speaks up, addressing Jennifer. "What did you think of the story, Jen? Was it what you expected? Did everything turn out nice and pretty and happy, the way they planned it from the beginning? Or did the whole story turn into something else?"

Martin gives Jennifer a challenging look. Jennifer returns the favor.

"I think that the story portrays a part of life we don't like to deal with, Martin. It's easy to have faith when everything is going well and you think you're in control. But when life becomes hard and we lose control over our circumstances, we find out what we really believe and who we truly are."

Martin looks away and an awkward silence follows. Another student mercifully starts up another round of questions, and Johnny sends Jen another note.

I thought you said this stuff didn't make sense to you? You sound like an expert to me. Anyway, don't let Martin get to you. I'm sure he'll come around. BTW, do you have plans tonight?

J.R.

Jen reads the note. She passes him her previous note, adding a line to it before she gives it to him.

You're not too shabby yourself, sir. Thanks and no, I don't have plans. Are you asking me out on a date?

Martin watches in disgust as Johnny and Jennifer pass notes back and forth. Does she know she is making a fool of herself? Johnny is playing her, telling her what she wants to hear, and she's eating it up! Why can't she see through him?

Martin frowns as Jennifer's hand grazes Johnny's. They've become affectionate in a very short period of time. Their instructor ends the group discussions and they return the desks to their normal positions. Johnny manages to stay next to Jennifer, and Martin ends up two desks behind Johnny. Martin spends the rest of class scrutinizing Johnny and Jennifer. When the bell rings to end class, Johnny and Jennifer linger behind. Martin does the same, placing his books as slowly into his backpack as he can.

Johnny whispers something in Jennifer's ear and hands her a note. Jen places the note in her pocket and gives Johnny a hug. Martin scowls and stuffs his papers, half crushed, into his backpack. Johnny and Jen walk out, and Martin shadows them. Martin hesitates when he sees a folded note on the floor. He isn't sure, but it may have come from Jennifer's pocket. He waits for Johnny and Jennifer to round the corner before picking it up.

Martin studies the note for a moment, weighing his options. His better judgment tells him whatever the note contains is none of his business; Martin opens the note anyway. It reads:

Jennifer,

Having fun yet? I am too. I want to take you some place special Friday night. Follow the directions on the map. Meet me at 8 o'clock. It will be a nice quiet place for us to be alone and finish that conversation we were having the night before. Call me if you get lost.

J.R.

Martin turns the note around and sees the map drawn on the back. _What is Johnny up to?_ he wonders.

•••

Martin calls Jennifer later that night to find out more about the note. When he calls, Jennifer's mother answers the phone.

"I'm sorry, honey, but you just missed her," Ms. Smith informs him. "She went out with Johnny to the movies, and I think they're going out to eat afterwards. Do you want me to take a message for you?"

"No thanks," he replies. Martin hangs up the phone and scowls. Somehow, he's got to get through to her.

•••

Johnny walks Jennifer to her door. They held hands most of the night, and he's hesitant to let go now. The porch light is on, and, judging by the silhouette in the window, Ms. Smith is watching.

"I guess this is goodnight," Jennifer replies with a smile.

"Yeah," Johnny hems. "This was fun." He slowly releases her hand. "Goodnight Jennifer."

"Night, Johnny," she replies. She turns to go inside, but Johnny grabs her hand again.

"Jen?" he tugs her toward him.

"Yes?" she replies. Their faces are inches apart, and Johnny feels the inevitable happening. He slowly pulls her close before kissing her, and Jennifer wraps her arms around his neck.

They haven't kissed since the dance, and the feeling takes her breath away. The knowledge that her mother is watching forces Jennifer to pull away, but not before she hears Johnny whisper something that makes her heart stop.

"I love you, Jen." The words are out before he realizes he's talking, and Jennifer's eyes widen in amazement. She smiles at him and walks inside.

#  CHAPTER FOURTEEN:

# Bitter Harvest

Ms. Smith tries to look comfortable as she watches her oldest daughter walk inside. _She's growing up_ , she tells herself, _and this is to be expected_. Still, it's hard to watch her daughter grow up so soon. She needs to have this talk with her, sooner rather than later.

"Jennifer," her mother says her name casually.

"Hmm?" Jennifer responds in a singsong tone as she hangs up her jacket. Ms. Smith hesitates. Jennifer seems so happy; maybe she should have this talk another time?

"How was your night?" Ms. Smith is stalling, but she knows talks like this can't be put off forever.

"It was nice," Jennifer murmurs. She throws herself on the couch and kicks her shoes off. "I had a great time with Johnny. He's so sweet."

Ms. Smith sits down next to her and folds her hands across her stomach. "What did you do?" she asks.

Jennifer smiles. "Well, we went to the movies. The film was lousy, but we enjoyed making fun of it. After the movie we grabbed some pizza and ice cream. We went to the park for a little while, and then we came home."

Jennifer leans lazily on the couch as her mother studies her. Ms. Smith is quiet a long time before touching her daughter gently on the shoulder.

"You know," she begins. "Your father and I met when we were very young." Jennifer sits up, sensing that her mother is doing more than making light conversation. There is another long silence as Ms. Smith hesitates. Jennifer waits until her mother continues. "I was your age when I became pregnant with your brother, Peter."

"I know mom, you told me that already," Jennifer states a little defensively. "Johnny and I aren't going to take things anywhere near that far, so you don't have to worry."

"Oh, every mother worries, no matter who her child is," Ms. Smith smiles. "I just want to share something with you. Is that okay?"

Jennifer nods and waits for her mother to finish.

"My mother hated Pedro the first day she met him. She told me to watch out for boys like him, because they were nothing but trouble. I told her not to worry, because things would never get too crazy." Ms. Smith laughs softly and shakes her head.

"Your father was very sweet and always a gentleman. He always opened my door for me, and he never stopped telling me how beautiful I was. It didn't take long for me to fall in love with him."

She shakes her head. "I gave my heart away too quickly, and nine months later I had your brother."

Jennifer gives her mother a confused look.

"I'm not saying the same thing is going to happen to you," her mother reassures her. "I fell in love too quickly, and sometimes the feelings associated with love make you blind to certain faults. There are things about your father I didn't know; things I needed to know. Unfortunately, I allowed my feelings to dictate my actions, and we fell into sin. Those first years were hard. Being an unmarried teenage mother then wasn't the same as it is now. My father stopped speaking to me. When your father and I got married, he refused to come to the wedding. He'd had such high hopes for me, but I let him down."

Ms. Smith sighs. "I let myself down, in a lot of ways. I didn't realize just how much heartache I was in for until it was too late. After Peter was born, he promised he'd marry me as soon as we graduated from high school. He promised me so many things. He foretold a future for us both that would be paradise. I wanted it to be true, so much so that I ignored anything remotely negative about Pedro. He had a gambling problem then, but I pretended it was a harmless hobby. Besides, he always seemed to have enough money to take care of things. I didn't know that the way he was taking care of things was so out of control."

Ms. Smith gives Jennifer a look. "The point I'm trying to make is this: be careful who you give your heart to. People aren't always what they seem to be. It doesn't mean they aren't good people; your father is a good man, but that's not what makes relationships work."

Ms. Smith pauses momentarily, carefully choosing her next words. "From what I've gathered about Johnny, he used to be different, right? Black fingernail polish, black clothes, black hair, baggy pants with chains?"

"Yes, except for the hair," Jennifer giggles. "Thank the Lord he didn't dye his hair!"

"And now he's changed? No more black, no more chains, no more Goth?"

Jennifer nods. "That's right."

"Well, what made him change?"

Jennifer opens her mouth, but hesitates. It's a question she's wondered herself.

"I don't know," she finally confesses. She looks at her mother, but Ms. Smith doesn't say a word. "I've tried, but we always wind up on a totally different subject. I don't think he does it on purpose though. Most of our conversations turn back to me eventually."

Ms. Smith speaks up after a moment of thought. "So he knows a great deal about you, and you know very little about him, is that it?"

Jennifer doesn't have to answer to see where her mother is going. She has a valid point. It feels good to be around Johnny, and so far he's never acted inappropriately with her, but she still knows very little about him.

"I guess that's right." Jennifer thinks a moment.

"So, you don't know where he stands, spiritually?"

Jennifer shakes her head, taking in her mother's words. "I'd better find out." Her mother nods in approval. "Right now, actually." Jennifer kisses her mother on the cheek and grabs the house phone.

•••

Johnny hears the phone ringing as he walks in the door. His brother Matt, who'd been walking to his room, turns to rush towards him in greeting.

"Hey buddy!" Johnny grins as he lifts him up from the floor. "Shouldn't you be in bed?"

Matt nods and rubs his eyes. "I had to get some wader."

Johnny tousles his hair and puts him down. "Well, you get off to bed, okay?" Matt nods sleepily and shuffles to his room. His mother calls him from the kitchen.

"Johnny, the telephone is for you. It's Jennifer." Johnny grabs the phone and gives his mother a swift kiss on the cheek. She smiles at him before walking out.

"Make it short, okay? I'm expecting a phone call."

Johnny nods as he speaks in to the receiver. "Here's Johnny," he says playfully.

"Hey Johnny, it's me," Jennifer greets him. There's something different in her tone, but Johnny ignores it and continues his playful banter.

"Jen, we've only been away from each other for five minutes. Do you miss me already?"

There is a long silence before Jennifer responds. "Is it okay for us to talk?"

"Yeah, of course," Johnny replies. "Go ahead."

Another pause. "I was talking to my mom this evening, and I realized that there are some things I still don't know about you. Important things that I need to know before we can go any further."

Johnny feels his stomach drop. He's managed to keep his secrets without outright lying to her, in part because she's never pried too deeply. His palms begin to sweat as Jennifer begins shooting off questions.

"The most important thing I need to know is whether or not you have a relationship with the Lord. I'm a Christian, Johnny, and I can't be in a relationship with someone who isn't."

Johnny scrambles for a response until, mercifully, the phone beeps.

"Jen, I'm sorry, but there's someone on the other line, and my mom's expecting a call." Before she can respond, he clicks over. He'll have to call her back, but at least this gives him time to think of something.

"Hello? Hello?" a deep voice rises out of the phone. Johnny nearly forgets the other caller. "Is anybody there?"

"Yes, this is the Reese residence. Who're you calling for?"

The deep voice clears his throat. "This is Dr. Karrington at Logoria Memorial Hospital. Am I speaking to a relative of Charles Reese?"

Johnny feels the blood drain from his face and he nearly drops the phone. The hospital. Charles Reese is in the hospital. That can only mean one thing.

"Is he dead?" Johnny hears himself ask. There is a pause, and Dr. Karrington clears his throat. "May I ask again if I'm speaking to a relative of Charles Reese?"

"Yeah, this is Johnny. I'm his son." There is another pause and a sound like the shuffling of papers.

"Johnny, is Mrs. Reese around?"

"Just tell me if he's dead!" Johnny finds himself screaming into the phone. His mother rushes into the kitchen.

"Johnny, why are you yelling?" his mother scolds him. "I just put the kids to bed!"

Johnny hands the phone to his mother. She takes it slowly, her eyes questioning as she speaks into the receiver. "Hello?"

Johnny doesn't stay to hear the rest. He walks to his room and closes the door behind him, but not before hearing his mother cry out.

···

Johnny walks down the halls of the hospital in a trance. Susan and his brothers are being watched by a neighbor back at the house so he and his mother can see Mr. Reese. He isn't dead; at least, not yet. Mr. Reese had been shot multiple times during a mugging. The paramedics arrived much later, and by then he'd lost a lot of blood.

His mother is frantic as they make their way to the emergency room. They're redirected to the ICU on the third floor, and once there, Mrs. Reese has paperwork to fill out. Dr. Karrington explains to them that Mr. Reese was found in a local parking lot. One of his lungs collapsed, and the chances of him surviving the night are slim.

Johnny enters the room with his mother. Charles Reese is hooked up to a machine that is breathing for him. Aside from the very slow motion of his chest rising and falling, he doesn't move. Johnny's mother hovers over him, a shaky hand over her mouth. Johnny watches quietly as his mother weeps.

"Charles, please don't leave me," she cries. Johnny turns away. Even as he lay dying, Charles Reese still has the power to make people beg.

Mr. Reese makes a guttural sound and Johnny's mother gasps. Johnny's head snaps up in shock as his stepfather's eyes flutter open. Mrs. Reese smiles and gently grabs his hand.

"I'm here, Charles," she cries. "Can you hear me?"

Mr. Reese turns his head slightly in her direction, and Mrs. Reese laughs.

"Johnny, come over here!" she exclaims. "Come say something to your father."

Johnny walks slowly toward Mr. Reese, but finds no words. His stepfather's eyes follow him from across the room to the side of the bed. In those eyes is something Johnny knows is impossible. Had it been anyone else, he would have called it remorse. Johnny stands by the side of the bed, dumbstruck. Mr. Reese brushes his hand along Johnny's ever so slightly, but Johnny quickly moves it away.

"Please don't leave me alone, Charles," Mrs. Reese whimpers again.

Another guttural rasp reminds them that he has a machine breathing for him. Mr. Reese becomes very still again, with the exception of the movement of his chest, and Mrs. Reese holds her husband's hand.

"I'm right here, Charles. Don't you worry, okay? I'm right here."

Johnny steps outside his stepfather's room. He doesn't see anywhere to sit nearby, so he heads towards the hospital chapel. When he gets there, he slides into a seat and sighs. The Master made good on his promise. The nightmare is finally over.

#  CHAPTER FIFTEEN:

# X Marks the Spot

Martin checks his watch. It's 7:30 in the evening. According to the note, Jennifer should arrive at eight. Martin's attempts to speak to Jennifer in the last two days have failed. She refused to speak to him or take any of his calls. He doesn't even know if the meeting is still on tonight. He heard rumors that Johnny's father was in the hospital, but he never got the chance to ask his dad about it. Mr. West was too busy, as usual.

Martin exhales in frustration as he grips the steering wheel. He isn't very familiar with this part of Logoria. It's mostly woods and country. He's been driving for twenty minutes already and hasn't spotted a single car.

On the back of the note, the crudely drawn map shows a myriad of turns and landmarks. Wherever they planned on going, it's just behind Logoria Memorial Park. As far as Martin knows, there is nothing there but trees and a few abandoned shacks.

Martin swipes at the beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He lowers the temperature on his AC and turns the fan on full blast. He knows the main source for the heat is nervous energy. He snuck out of the house and used his spare car key. Both his parents are working late tonight, which is good news for him. If either of them find out he's been driving around in his car, they'll kill him.

But Jennifer is worth the risk. Martin can't allow her to be hurt by Johnny. What if Johnny has her alone? In a shack in the woods of all places? Martin shakes his head. Jen would never go for that, would she? He wipes his forehead with the back of his hand and pushes down on the accelerator. Anxiety begins to twist his insides, and Martin swerves to avoid a collision with a raccoon. He has to be more careful.

Martin's mind is swimming with possible scenarios. He has to come up with a plan once he reaches the "X" on the map. What if they aren't there? What if he sees Johnny, but Jennifer hasn't arrived yet? Will he end up fighting Johnny - again \- and leaving his body somewhere in the woods? Martin allows himself a nervous laugh. He can't go that route again. Besides, Jennifer would never forgive him. She already hates his guts. There's no need to add wood to _that_ fire. Martin sighs as he makes his way around a curve. He can't let her end up with Johnny. Not until he tells her how he feels.

Martin pulls into a parking lot just a few yards from the park. He hesitates before turning off the car. He doesn't want Jennifer to spot him before he spots her. She might recognize his car, and it's pretty conspicuous in the middle of an empty parking lot. He finally decides to pull out and park at a small gas station. It's only a few blocks away, and he can easily cover the distance on foot.

Martin grabs the note and stuffs it in his back pocket. He jogs down the sidewalk leading back to the park, glancing quickly at any car that passes. He checks his watch. It's 7:45. He still has some time.

He pulls the note back out and looks over the map again. He follows the instructions, which lead well into the woods, until he comes to a clearing. A few yards in front of him there is a small house. It looks abandoned, judging by the sagging roof and gaps in the wood boards. There is a small, flickering light coming from the inside. Martin checks the map again, noting the "X" in the center. This is the place.

Martin suddenly feels very foolish. What is he doing here, spying on Jen? What if he's blowing things way out of proportion?

Martin hears the faint sound of laughter and ducks back into the trees. It came from inside. Are they both here already? He crouches down deeper, under the cover of the woods. What is he going to do? He can't just stay here, hiding in the woods, until they come out. It seems odd that Johnny would even let Jen walk through the woods alone at night. A sense of foreboding rises inside of him. Something about this meeting is off.

Soft laughter echoes through the trees. It's distinctly feminine. Martin's heart sinks. So, she really came. He strains his ears, listening for the sounds of muffled conversation.

The wind is blowing his way, rustling the trees and distorting every sound. Martin decides to chance running to the house, hoping he won't be seen. He looks around quickly before heading out of the woods. He feels exposed as he makes his way to the shack. He hides by the porch, just under a window. He breathes in and out heavily. The run wasn't far, but Martin's anxiety is putting a strain on his body.

Martin hears another noise, but the sounds are still muffled. He presses his ear to the window and tries to still his breathing. Another laugh resounds from the house. Martin is no longer squatting, but standing at the window with his ear pressed to the glass. He hears a low moan and the distinct sound of kissing. At least, he thinks it sounds like kissing.

The sounds are mixing with the wind and his imagination. His mind could be playing tricks on him. He listens a moment longer before pushing himself away from the window in frustration. Martin flares his nostrils, kicking at the dirt with his sneakers. How can she be kissing Johnny in a place like this? Doesn't she have _any_ integrity?

Martin runs to the porch and grabs the handle to the front door. Reason tells him to walk away. What is he doing? Jennifer knows right from wrong. If she chooses to be with Johnny, Martin has no right to interfere.

Martin takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and releases the doorknob. It's her choice to make, not his. He takes a step back and turns around slowly.

"Let me go!" a female voice cries out.

Halfway down the steps, Martin hears the muffled shout. Several more follow and Martin hears glass break. Without thinking he turns back and yanks the front door open, rushing towards the sounds.

#  CHAPTER SIXTEEN:

# Trapped!

Martin passes through the long hallway. This is no small shack. It's much larger than it appears. A small stairway to his right leads upstairs, but the noise is coming from somewhere further down the hall.

Martin finds a stairwell that leads to the basement and hears another shout, this time much louder. Martin rushes headlong down the dark stairs, slamming his body into the door at the bottom. It opens without resistance and Martin stumbles into the dark basement.

He lands on the dusty floor with a thud and winces at the pain shooting up his left side. He looks up from the floor and finds the source of the noise.

It's a small laptop with the webcam turned on. The laptop is connected to external speakers with the volume turned to the max.

Martin pushes himself off the floor and dusts off his pants. The basement smells like oil and gasoline. He wrinkles his nose at the pungent odor, and it doesn't take long for his eyes to water and burn.

Martin blinks the water out of his eyes and takes a closer look at the screen. A girl he doesn't recognize is rolling her eyes at the camera. She seems aggravated but not at all in danger. She's standing outside somewhere, judging by the grass and trees surrounding her. Martin assumes she is the one he heard screaming. The girl starts arguing with someone, but Martin isn't paying attention. He is following the long extension cord that is connected to the computer.

The line runs across the room up to a small window. Who would leave a laptop here, with the volume up full blast, in a shack in the middle of the woods? And why?

"Are we finished yet? It's getting cold out here," the girl whines.

Martin sees a familiar figure enter the screen. He narrows his eyes as the person turns and stares directly at him. A burst of light engulfs the screen, and Martin turns away, shielding his eyes. He hears his name.

"Martin!"

_Get out of here!_ his mind screams at him. Martin turns as the basement door slams shut. Fear grips his heart as he runs to the door and grabs the handle. It's locked! He pushes against it, shaking the handle again and again, but it doesn't budge.

Martin looks around frantically, weighing his options. The basement is dark, except for the light from the laptop. Martin scans the room and spots the window he'd seen earlier. He runs over to it, but stumbles over the cord, causing it to disconnect from the laptop.

The laptop screen goes black; the sudden loss of light confuses Martin momentarily, but the light from the outside puts him back on track; it's moonlight, but it's just enough to allow him to see the window again.

He grabs the windowsill and pulls himself up. He sees the ground outside, but through the dingy window, he can't see anything else.

He examines the window, running his hand along the side until he finds the latch. After unlocking it, he pushes it up as far as it will go and sticks his head out.

A stinging spray splashes his face. He jerks his head back, banging it on the window before falling back to the floor.

He screams in pain as the burning sensation pierces every part of his eyes and nose. He slings a handful of dirt into his face, desperate to dull the pain, but that only makes it worse. The dirt is saturated in gasoline.

A loud pop startles him, and he jumps to his feet. His eyes are red and raw, and the tears building in his eyes make the burning unbearable. Another sound, this time very shrill and sharp, zips past him.

Martin grabs his arm, a sharp pain searing his skin. Whatever passed him burned his arm. Martin blinks his eyes several times, willing himself to see. The familiar hiss of fireworks catches his ear. That's it! The first pop had to be a firecracker. The second...

Martin sees it before he hears it this time; a small rocket jettisons through the window into the basement. Small flames ignite in the fuel-plagued dirt around him, and Martin realizes the danger he's in.

He runs back to the door, slamming his entire weight into it, but it still won't budge. Smoke fills his nostrils and Martin's mind numbs with panic.

_The window!_ Martin thinks. He runs back to the window, ignoring the pain as another rocket smashes into his shoulder. He sticks his arms out first and tries to pull himself through, but the window is too small to fit his head and shoulders. He pulls his head back and tries going out with one arm first, but as soon as he sticks his head out he's hit with another dose of fiery spray. Martin jerks back and cries out in pain, unable to hold back his tears any longer. The room is hot and smoky, and Martin is surrounded by several small fires. Martin hears someone laughing just outside the window. He turns his head and cries out.

"Hey! Help me!" Martin cries as he rubs at his eyes. "I'm trapped!"

A dark figure appears in the window. Martin blinks several times. His chest heaves as he struggles to breathe in the smoke-polluted basement.

"You took my life from me, Martin," the dark figure hisses. "I had dreams. I had a future. But you destroyed it!"

Martin rubs his eyes again as the dark figure moves closer. Their eyes meet and Martin recognizes him as the same face on the camera. Josh Turner. The same Josh Turner he fought in August the previous year. He was expelled, along with his friend Steve Owens. Now, he's dangerously close to becoming a murderer.

"I don't understand," Martin falters. "Why are you doing this?"

"Why? I lost everything because of you!" Josh explodes. "I got kicked out of school, you know. But that's not all. I lost my football scholarship, thanks to your dad. He had me thrown in juvie, and now no college football team wants me. My own father disowned me, and you," he points a finger at Martin, "You're to blame!"

•••

Johnny watches his father's chest slowly rise and fall. Mr. Reese makes a low rattling sound every time he exhales, like an old engine struggling to stay cranked.

The monitors to his right indicate that Mr. Reese is losing his battle for survival. This is the end for Charles Reese. The doctor and nurses have hinted as much.

A single tear escapes from Johnny's left eye, but he quickly wipes it away. Johnny closes his eyes as anger rages within him. Johnny hoped his stepfather's death would bring him relief, but he feels more anxious than ever.

He hates Charles Reese. He wanted to tell him as much during that brief moment he was conscious the night before. He wanted to release all the hurt he'd been bottling up inside. He wanted to laugh at him and tell him he'd gotten what he deserved. But the initial shock of it all had robbed him of words. His stepfather was finally vulnerable, too weak to fight back, and Johnny was left speechless. All he could do last night was stare. Now, Johnny is ready to say it, to say all of it, but his stepfather can't hear him. Before the day is over, Charles Reese will be dead. And what will Johnny do once his stepfather is gone? His family will need him for comfort, at first, but then what? Will the nightmares really stop? Will the pain in his heart finally go away?

Johnny fears the answers, and another feeling has been wiggling its way in. Guilt. He asked the Master to get rid of his stepdad, and he did – but at what price? What does the Master want with Martin West? Nothing good, Johnny's sure. If the Master is willing to kill Charles Reese to get to Martin, what else is he capable of?

Johnny breaks into a nervous sweat. Whatever scheme the Master has planned, Johnny is now an accomplice. Though he has no idea what – if anything – is going to happen to Martin, Johnny knows he's equally responsible. Just as he's responsible for what happened to his stepfather. He didn't pull the trigger, but he traded his service in exchange for his life. His stepfather's blood is on his hands, and, possibly, Martin's too.

Johnny groans heavily. His world spinning out of control, his shirt collar feels too tight, and if he stays in this tiny room any longer, he'll suffocate. Johnny rushes out of the room, ignoring the cry of surprise from his mother. He runs past the hospital exit and doesn't stop until he's well beyond the parking lot. He has no idea where he's going. He can't go home. Not now.

Johnny walks to the end of the street and stops. Katalia Falls is just a mile away. His destination set, Johnny runs until he reaches the bottom step of Jennifer's house. He grabs the side rail and forces himself to walk up the next three steps and ring the doorbell. He turns and sits on the steps, putting his hands over his head. His chest is tight and his lungs are burning. He's breathing too fast and begins to hyperventilate.

" _Breathe slowly_ ," a quiet voice instructs him. Johnny looks around, but no one is there. Jen still hasn't come to the door.

" _Take a deep breath_ ," the voice says again. Johnny breathes in slowly and the hyperventilation subsides.

I, the Lord, search the heart of man."

Johnny freezes. Where did _that_ come from? Johnny blinks, but he can't hold back his tears; they fall, heavy on his face.

"Johnny?"

Johnny turns as Jennifer steps out of the house. She looks at him quizzically before sitting down next to him. She places her hand on his shoulder, massaging it gently.

"Is everything okay?" she asks. Her face is soft and full of compassion. Johnny only nods. "Is it your dad?" she asks.

Johnny folds his arms and places his head in between them. He rocks back and forth, feeling very much like the scared, lonely six-year-old child he used to be; ten years later, and nothing has changed.

"Johnny?" Jennifer's alarmed but soft voice interrupts his thoughts. He feels her hand, firmly pressed against his shoulder to comfort him. He squeezes his eyes shut, closing out everything but his thoughts. Once again, Jennifer's touch brings him back.

"Come on, you can talk to me," Jennifer prods gently. Johnny sits quietly for a moment before speaking.

"All this time," Johnny whispers, "I've never known why. Why did you do it? Why did you hurt me? What did I do wrong? I trusted you. Now it's too late." Johnny breaks into a sob and Jennifer pulls him close.

"Johnny, I can't imagine what you're going through, but I'm going to pray for you, ok?"

That sets him off. Johnny pulls himself away from Jennifer's embrace, disgusted.

"No, it's _not_ okay!" Johnny shouts angrily. "What good does it do to pray to a God who _never does anything?_ " Johnny turns his face towards the sky, eyes blazing with fury.

"Did you hear me, God?" Johnny shouts. "What good are you?"

"Johnny," Jennifer reaches for his arm but he pulls it away.

"I don't know how you do it, Jen," Johnny is still looking at the sky. "How do you worship a God who just lets people suffer? People like me and my mom? How could he watch us getting our brains beat in _every single day_ and do _nothing!_ " Johnny turns and looks at Jennifer, pain in his eyes. "How could God be deaf to the screams of a six year old boy having his innocence taken from him by a man who was supposed to be his father?"

"Oh no, Johnny," Jennifer's hand covers her mouth as Johnny turns back to the sky.

"Were my screams not loud enough?" Johnny shouts. "I needed you, and you weren't there! You're _never_ there! Not when I had my face smashed against a greasy garage floor; not when my mom was getting knocked across the room; not when that monster had his hands on my brother! _Someone_ had to protect them! What was I supposed to do? I had no choice!"

Johnny's body shakes with painful sobs. "I had no choice," he cries. Jennifer takes his hand in hers, eyes full of tears. Johnny looks up at her and she pulls him into an embrace. This time he doesn't pull away.

#  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN:

# Visions

Martin feels the walls closing in on him. He is going to suffocate if he doesn't get out of here soon. Josh is insane. The proof is all around him.

"Josh, you don't know what you're doing! Think this through!"

Martin looks at Josh, but the faraway glint in his eyes is evidence enough. Mentally, at least, Josh is gone.

"All my hopes went up in smoke, West," Josh chuckles. "Up in smoke. Isn't that funny?" Josh's demented smile fades and he turns to leave.

"No!" Martin calls after him. "Don't do this!" He runs to the window but stops as a small fire licks the frame from the outside. Josh must have set the fire as he left. The window was his last hope. He's going to be burned alive!

A small whimper escapes Martin's lips as he crumples to the floor in despair. How could this happen? Why is God letting this happen? Martin breaks into a fit of coughs. The smoke is unbearable. He feels himself slipping away, and he knows he is going to die. Before he loses consciousness, Martin hears himself whisper one final plea for help.

"God, please save me..."

•••

Max knows where to find him; he just hopes it isn't too late. He sprints past the trees, noting every landmark. Every detail from his dream is still vivid in his mind; it was the same dream he's been having for the last few weeks. Max had fallen asleep on the couch. As soon as his eyes closed he was carried away to the woods.

He knew something was different this time. It felt like he was really there. He could see the smoke as he walked through the trees. He could smell the burning wood – and something else. As he approached the house, the smell became more distinct. It was gasoline.

Max could feel the heat of the fire as he ran to the window. In his other dreams he could only make out the form of a body. But in this dream, he saw that the body was a young man. He'd never moved past the window before, but this time he crossed over, through the walls, and arrived on the other side. The same body was curled into a ball near a large wooden door. The first thing Max noticed were the custom made Adidas on his feet.

Those were Martin's shoes.

Max rushed over to the body and tried to move it, but he couldn't touch it. He was like a ghost. Max couldn't make out the face at first; his arms covered his head, forming a shield from the smoke. The boy groaned as Max stood over him, then finally moved his arms. Max's fears were realized. It was Martin. In that moment, Max realized it was more than a dream. His friend was in trouble, and he needed Max to help him, somehow. Max heard a crack and turned in time to see the roof cave in over them. Before the boards reached them, Max jerked and felt himself falling.

Pain struck in his left temple and he grabbed it, wincing. He opened his eyes in his living room and gave the glass table a suspicious look. Remembering the dream, he catapulted off the couch and out the door, grabbing his phone and his father's car keys before leaving.

•••

Max picks up his pace, but each second that passes feels like an eternity. He has to help Martin! Finally, he finds the house.

Smoke billows from the back of the house, just like it did in his dream. Max knows the only way in is through the basement door. He just hopes he isn't too late.

Max runs into the house and immediately covers his mouth. Though the flames haven't reached this part of the house, the smoke has. Max coughs as he makes his way down the hallway.

He finds the staircase leading to the basement and follows it to the bottom. A large wooden chair is wedged underneath the doorknob, and a thick rope is tied between the knob and the rail, blocking the door.

Max blows out in exasperation as he bounces between untying the rope and removing the chair to pry open the door. Max hopes that removing the chair will be the easiest and quickest way to get the door open. He quickly knocks the chair out of place and tosses it onto the staircase. He turns the knob but it won't budge. He shakes it several times, but it only rattles in protest. It's locked.

"Aagh!" Max shouts in frustration as he runs his fingers through his hair. Beads of sweat trickle down his face and back, and he kicks the door with his left foot. It kicks him back, and Max squats to the floor, tendering his knee as the bones in his leg curse his stupidity.

"Jesus, help me," he exhales a prayer as he rubs away the pain in his leg. He can see smoke rising from underneath the door, and Max prays for an answer to come quickly.

He looks down at his leg, willing himself to think despite the pain. Something shimmering catches his eye and he bends down further to get a closer look.

There on the bottom step is a small key with a string attached to it. Max grabs it and jumps up, praying that it fits the door. His hand shakes as he tries to push the key in one way, but it won't go in.

He tries it twice before turning it the other way, willing himself to move faster. His hands shake so badly that he drops the key. He breathes in slowly, praying for the peace of God, and picks up the key. He pushes it in the keyhole, and it fits. Excited, he turns the key to the left and his heart jumps as he hears the click of the lock releasing. He pulls the key out and turns the doorknob, thrusting it open two or three inches before the rope stretches taut. A cloud of smoke flies into the staircase, nearly overpowering Max with its intensity.

Max closes the door quickly, catching his breath and searching for solutions. He looks at the wooden chair on the stairs and a thought strikes him. He grabs it quickly and bangs it against the doorknob. Nothing happens. Max slams it against the doorknob again.

The sound of a slight crack encourages him to keep it up. He does it a third and fourth time until, finally, the chair splinters into three pieces. He grabs the largest piece and continues his work.

After several more blows, the doorknob begins to separate from the wooden door. Max's tool splinters again, leaving just a small stub.

Max throws the broken chair aside and begins kicking at the doorknob until the screws connecting the door to the knob separate. He tries opening the door again, pulling at it until the door opens an extra foot. The smoke makes his eyes burn, but Max ignores it. Too much time has already passed.

He puts one leg, then the other, over the rope and maneuvers himself until he is between the door and the wall. He sticks both feet on the door and pushes. Max glances over to the other side of the door where he knows Martin is laying. Martin is curled in a fetal position with his arms covering his face. The flames around the room are steadily creeping up the walls. Max takes one final determined kick at the door and whoops as he hears the doorknob snap off. The door swings open limply and the doorknob falls to the floor with a loud chink.

Max moves quickly, running to Martin and pulling him by his arms. With his arms wrapped underneath Martin's, Max drags his friend to the door. Martin is heavier than Max expected, and it's a slow process.

Just as he reaches the bottom step of the staircase, Max hears a crack and a loud groan as the roof of the basement collapses. Splintered wood and flames fly out towards them, and Max pulls with all his might until he and Martin are up the stairs. His back is soaked in sweat by the time they reach the top, and Max has to readjust his grip on Martin.

Martin groans and coughs. His eyes open briefly, just long enough for him to catch a glimpse of Max before losing consciousness again. Max takes a deep breath and grabs Martin again.

The fire is taking its toll on the rest of the house, and they need to get out. Fast. Max continues to drag Martin until they are out of the house, off the porch, and back in the clearing. Max falls on the grass with exhaustion and checks on Martin. He isn't breathing.

Max panics and begins shouting his name. "Martin, come on, wake up!" He checks his pulse. It's faint. He places his ear close to Martin's mouth, and breathes a prayer of thanks when he feels air come out of Martin's mouth.

He pulls out his cell phone, knowing he can't take Martin any further, and they need help. He flips open his phone, but it reads out of service. He nearly slings his phone into the woods out of frustration when a thought comes to him. He turns his phone off and then back on. He waits as the icon indicates it is searching for a signal. "Come on," he whispers.

The phone finally beeps and a small signal lights up in blue. Not taking for granted the strength of the signal, Max quickly makes a call.

#  EPILOGUE

At 10:00 pm, Johnny gets the call. Charles Reese is dead.

He'd gone home after spending an hour with Jennifer, crying on her porch. His mother calls him from the hospital, pleading with him to come back. Johnny tells her he'll think about it, but he's really tired.

Johnny sits in his room, despondent. He turns on his computer and emails Frank. After waiting a few minutes with no reply, he turns his computer off. He sits down on his bed, staring off into space for several minutes before anxiety forces him to move.

He scans his bookshelf for some kind of distraction. He has several magazines, a few books, and a dozen or so comics. The small New Testament Jennifer gave him sticks out from all the other choices. He grabs it and sits back down on his bed.

Something possesses him as he reads it. He turns to the back and flips through the concordance. Unhappy with the results of his search, he tosses the Testament aside and turns his computer back on.

He has no idea what he is looking for; all he can remember are the first few words of the verse. "I the Lord search the heart." It occurs him that he first heard the phrase when he attended bible study with Jennifer. Her youth pastor had been reading a passage of scripture. Where had it been?

Johnny looks up concordances on the web and searches for the scripture by key words. After looking through several possible matches, he finds it in Jeremiah 17:10.

"I the LORD search the heart, I try the reins, even to give every man according to his ways, and according to the fruit of his doings."

Johnny frowns and shuts off his computer again. He should be at the hospital, comforting his mother, not here at the house reading nonsense. He grabs his jacket and his keys and heads for the door. Johnny opens it just as two men in blue uniforms walk up.

"Jonathan Reese?" the first man asks.

"Yeah, that's me," Johnny answers nervously.

"I'm detective Lawson," he points to his partner, "this is detective Gladden. We're placing you under arrest."

"Why, what's happened?" Johnny asks, wide-eyed.

"We're going to have to take you to the station for questioning," the second officer answers as he pulls out a pair of handcuffs.

"But what did I do?" Johnny begins slowly backing up into the house.

"We can do this the hard way, or we can do this peacefully, kid." Detective Lawson nods at his partner. "Run, and we do this the hard way."

Johnny blanches as the officer grabs his hands and cuffs him. Their voices barely register as he's read his Miranda rights.

"Do you have any weapons, illegal drugs or narcotics in your possession?" the officer asks sternly. Johnny shakes his head, though they search him anyway. As he is directed into the police car, Johnny makes a feeble attempt to pray. But no words come.

###
For additional updates on books in the Logoria Series, visit the author's website at

http://www.phylicia.us

Or visit her smashwords page at

<http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/pjleigh>

