Chapter Three
Jackson woke up when the Raptor slowed to a stop. Hayley nudged him from her spot in the back seat. “Hey, douche brain, it’s your turn to wash the windshield.”
He groaned and stretched while feeling for the door handle. “Where are we?”
“Lakewood,” Will said before getting out of the truck and slamming the door.
In the quiet cab, Jackson could hear the fuzzy sounds of punk rock coming from Hayley’s headphones. She leaned back, her brown, wavy hair splayed across her head rest.
They were in Lakewood. Jackson’s heart sped up. So close to their old territory. All they’d have to do was break off onto 512 to get to 410, and drive straight to the little town of Huntwood and Mount Rainier National Park—their family’s territory of Dark Pines.
Jackson climbed out of the truck. Nestled between the pumps was a station with squeegees and paper towels. Jackson grabbed a squeegee and approached Will, who stood at the side of the truck, fiddling with the payment options on the gas pump.
Jackson cleared his throat. “You know—”
“Don’t start,” Will said, his voice a growl.
Jackson kicked one of the tires. Water drops from the squeegee dripped onto the concrete. “I heard they aren’t even there anymore.”
“I said don’t start.”
“Will, we’re so close. It wouldn’t hurt anything to go check it out. They got what they wanted—they got rid of our parents. They must have moved on after that.”
“You don’t know that,” Will said.
A Jeep full of college-aged women pulled up to the opposite side of the gas pump. The women spilled out of the Jeep, stretching so that their short t-shirts lifted, exposing flat bellies that looked far too tanned to be natural in Washington. They eyed Will and Jackson with interest, but Jackson had more important things to consider at the moment.
“You’re right, we don’t know they’re gone,” Jackson said. “And we’ll never know unless we check it out.”
Will turned to face him, flashing his blue eyes, the Jaynes siblings’ most obvious shared characteristic. “I said not to start, Jackson.”
Jackson hit the side of the truck with his open palm. “Dammit, Will, this is messed up.”
Will left the gas pump running. Favoring his left leg, he strode over to Jackson, getting in his face. He had one measly inch on Jackson, which he liked to crow about when they were talking shit about each other. Jackson refused to be submissive now. He refused to look away. Instead he stared, eyes locked on Will.
“What’s messed up,” Will said, “is that we promised each other—you, me, and Hayley—that we would never go back. We would find somewhere to settle down and Washington no longer held a place for us.”
“That was four years ago,” Jackson said. “Have we found somewhere else to settle down? Have we ever stopped running? Maybe we haven’t found a place because Dark Pines is where we need to be. It’s our birthright, Will.”
Will’s voice got dangerously low. “You promised. Hayley promised. I promised.”
“Things change. Please, let’s just check out Huntwood.”
“Not everything changes.”
The gas pump clicked, signaling the tank was full.
Will glared at Jackson for five full seconds before spinning around and limping back to the gas pump. “Get in the truck,” he barked.
Jackson could feel his jaw tightening. Over the past four years of cramped quarters and way too much time spent with his siblings, he’d been pissed at Will before. Furious, even. They always fought, and then they always made up. But he’d never been so full of rage as he was right now.
“I’m going to tell you one more time,” Will said, warning in his voice. “Get in the truck.”
Jackson watched as Will climbed in. Then he looked down at the squeegee in his hand. “Fuck this,” he said.
One of the college girls leaned against the Jeep. She looked Jackson up and down. “You want to go to Huntwood?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s near Mount Rainier, right?”
Jackson nodded.
“We’re headed to the mountain for a hiking trip. We got another seat if you want it.”
Jackson considered her. “Your friends won’t mind?”
“Not a bit.” She grinned.
Will’s Ford rumbled, a warning growl.
“Hang on,” Jackson said. He walked up to the driver’s side window and knocked.
Will lowered the glass, scowling. “What?”
“I need to get something from the trailer.”
Narrowing his eyes, Will tossed him the travel trailer key and said, “Fine.”
Jackson jogged back to the trailer. He opened the door and stepped inside. This was it. The moment he parted with his siblings. Was there any going back after this? What if Will and Hayley went straight up to Canada and never came back? What if they did come back, but they didn’t want to have anything to do with Jackson?
He found his duffel bag, stashed in the drawers beneath his bed. He packed a few changes of clothes, his phone charger, and his emergency cash that Will insisted they each keep. Standing back, he looked at the bulging duffel. This was it? His entire life, crammed into a bag?
Just another brutal slap from reality that he didn’t have a place to call home.
He touched his back pocket, making sure his phone was there.
The Dark Pines territory used to be home. Maybe it could be home again.
After closing and locking the trailer, Jackson returned to the driver’s side door and handed Will the key. “Thanks,” he said. “Stay in touch.”
“What?” Will asked. Then he spotted the duffel bag Jackson held. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“I’m breaking a promise I never should have made in the first place.” Jackson backed up, through the space between the gas pumps, closer to the Jeep which waited for him. The young women had all piled back inside and sat, watching his exchange with Will.
“Don’t do this, J,” Will said.
The rear window opened, and Hayley stuck her head out. “Jax?”
He shook his head, at both of them. “I have to see this through.”
The Jeep’s door opened and Jackson climbed in. One of the women grabbed his duffel and tossed it behind the back seat.
The driver turned around to smile at him, her sunglasses hiding her eyes. “We good to go?”
“Yeah,” Jackson said. “Thanks.”
Will’s Ford still hadn’t moved. The Jeep burned rubber, screeching away from the gas pumps. Jackson turned to stare at Will’s truck, wondering if he’d done the right thing.
His phone buzzed with a notification. He had a message from Summer. Without even needing to look at what she’d written, he knew he’d done the right thing.