Legacy Read Free

was a good thing Lucas kept a spare shirt in the back of his truck. He threw the bloodstained T-shirt into one of the barrels inside the garage.
    He quickly returned to the job of finishing Jeb’s truck.
    Jeb hovered for a while, asking a lot of questions about what had happened, but he finally gave up and went outside when it became clear that Lucas wasn’t giving any answers. It wasn’t that Lucas was intentionally being rude; it was just that he really couldn’t explain it. No matter how hard he thought about it, he always came up with the same answer.
    Richie Dennison had stabbed him.
    But if that was the case, why wasn’t he hurt?
    Lucas threw himself into the job, changing the radiator coolant, then topping off the fluids for the wipers and the brakes. And all the while, the questions kept right on coming.
    It wasn’t that he hadn’t been hurt. He’d been hurt, all right. He’d felt the blade go in—it was one of the mostpainful things he’d ever experienced. And he’d bled like a stuck pig, too.
    But in the time it took Jeb to come into the garage, something had happened.
    Lucas cleaned up and tossed the trash into the barrel. He saw his bloody T-shirt among the discarded air filters and auto-parts packaging.
    Pulling his eyes away, he went outside to find Jeb.
    At first he didn’t see Jeb anywhere, but then he caught sight of the large man ambling across the parking lot of the Good Eats diner with an iced coffee.
    “Truck’s all set,” Lucas called out, wiping his hands on the bandanna from his back pocket.
    “Good job,” the man said, eyeing him curiously. “You sure you’re all right? That was a helluva lot of blood.”
    Lucas forced a smile. “I’m fine. Think I just got a good scrape when me and Richie were fighting. You know how those things bleed.”
    Jeb nodded, but Lucas could see he really didn’t understand. Truth be told, neither did he.
    Lucas was writing up Jeb’s receipt and collecting his cash when it came over him. He was suddenly absolutely ravenous. As he said goodbye to Jeb, he actually stumbled a bit, catching himself on the corner of Big Lou’s metal desk. His legs were shaky, and he wasn’t sure he had ever been this hungry before.
    Placing the BE RIGHT BACK ! sign on the door to the office, Lucas made his way across the street toward the diner, wondering if there was enough food in the place to satisfy his hunger.
    As he stepped into the air-conditioned space, his eyes scanned the crowded diner for a place to park himself. His mother stood at the back of the restaurant, a full pot of coffee in one hand.
    Cordelia Moore was staring at him with eyes that just about
screamed
he was in trouble. She pointed to a spot that was being vacated by an old man and his wife, and shot him a look that said Lucas had no choice.
    The smells inside the diner were overwhelming, and Lucas’s belly gurgled and growled uncontrollably. He had to eat soon.
    His mother approached the table, rag in hand, and started to wipe it down.
    “Hey,” he said by way of greeting.
    “What’s this I hear about a fight over at the garage?” she asked.
    “You talked to Jeb, eh?” His stomach was aching, and he almost told her to knock off the small talk and bring him one of everything on the menu.
    Almost.
    “Yes, I did, and he seemed to think you might’ve been hurt pretty bad.”
    She’d finished the table and stood staring at him with those angry eyes, hands on her hips.
    “I’m fine,” he said, frustrated that he had to explain himself again. “He knew I was fine. … I told him I was fine.”
    “Well, he didn’t seem to think you were fine.” She reached out and grabbed his face. “Let me see.”
    He wrenched his face from her hand. “I told you …”
    “I know, you’re fine.”
    His stomach grumbled so loudly that his mother heard it over the din of the crowded diner.
    “Sounds like somebody’s hungry,” she said.
    He nodded, pressing a hand to his aching abdomen. “Like you