Shine - Lauren Myracle [97]
He snorted scornfully, but he stepped back, dragging Robert with him.
Was it a trap? I had no way of knowing. I couldn’t stay where I was, however, so I heaved my midsection up onto the rock, then one leg, then the other. I scooched on my butt as far back as I could, all the way to where the rock met the damp black soil. It smelled like worms and decay.
I swallowed and tried to get a hold of myself.
“You always were afraid of heights,” Beef remarked, as if that made me weak and pitiful. It did, I suppose. When I didn’t respond, he said, “Look at me. Look at me, you stupid bitch!”
I raised my head. He did have scary eyes.
“Okay,” he said. “Okay, then. Now that we’re all one happy family, my buddy Patrick’s gonna prove he is a man.” Beef gave Robert a shake. “Ain’t that right?”
“I’m not Patrick,” Robert cried. “Why’d you call me Patrick?”
Beef look confused.
“It’s Robert,” I said. “And I know you don’t want to hurt Robert any more than you wanted to hurt Patrick.” I watched Beef’s face, because I still didn’t know for sure—not 100 percent, absolutely for sure—that he did hurt Patrick.
His features contorted, and I felt unbearably sad.
“You didn’t mean to, did you?” I said.
“It was . . . it was . . .” Agony rippled over his features. “It’s just that he wouldn’t let up and he wouldn’t let up . . .”
“I know,” I said.
“And the baseball bat, it was just there.” He looked confused. “I don’t know where it came from, I swear.”
I kept quiet.
“I don’t even know how it ended up in my hand,” Beef said. “I think . . . did someone put it there?”
“No, Beef,” I said.
“No,” he repeated. He shook his head. “No.”
I got to my feet, moving slowly.
“And after, with the gas nozzle . . .”
“You didn’t want people to know it was you,” I guessed. “You thought making it look like a hate crime would cover it up, since you weren’t like that.” He wasn’t a gay basher was what I meant, but as I thought it through, I realized he was, in a backward sort of way. Maybe he hated the gayness inside of him, and that’s what he was lashing out at. Except also in doing so, he was also lashing out at Patrick, who loved him. And Beef bashed in his skull and strung him up to a gasoline pump.
“You wished you hadn’t hurt him, so you made it look like it wasn’t you.” I eased closer, sliding my feet along the cold stone. “It was just a big mistake.”
“Yeah,” Beef said. He gazed at me, and also through me. “A mistake.”
“You know, I sure wish you’d let Robert go,” I said. “You’re scaring him.”
“Nuh-uh, I ain’t scared of no homo,” Robert said, confirming that he was indeed the stupidest dang kid on the planet. He twisted in Beef’s grip. “No way, you big, stupid pussy.”
“Robert . . .” I said, straining to sound casual. “Take it down a notch, okay, sweetie?”
“And I ain’t your sweetie,” he retorted. He stomped on Beef’s toe. “Now take back what you said about me being a dumb girl. I’m more of a man than you any day.”
“Can you believe this runt?” Beef said, his melancholy turning back into anger. He muscled Robert forward. “Well, let’s see it, big man. Show me what you got.”
“He can’t jump from there,” I said. “He’ll never clear the jumping rock.” I couldn’t breathe, knowing that failing to clear the ledge beneath us meant smashing into it instead. He’d end up with a bashed-up skull, just like Patrick.
Beef shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. It could go either way.” He thwomped Robert on the back, making him step forward to catch his balance. Loose rocks skittered over the edge. “To find out, you gotta go for it. Right, buddy?”
Beef let go of Robert, who immediately twisted so that he and Beef were belly to belly. He tried to squirm past, but Beef scolded him, saying, “Nuh-uh. Time to man up, buddy.”
“He doesn’t have room!” I cried. “He’d have to run and leap, and even so, only a fool would try it!”
“I’ll give you to three,” Beef told Robert. He looked over his shoulder and winked at me. “And then it’s your turn, sweetheart.”
Dread washed over me. This wasn’t Beef. This was Beef running scared, amped to a place where he was unhinged.