Renegade (2013) Read Free Page A

that had seen too much. Innocence didn’t count for much in the neighborhood. Pike understood that. Hector’s black hair was unruly and his chin was too pointed. One of these days he’d be a good-looking young man, but he wasn’t there yet.
    Hector frowned at Pike. “You gonna ask me to come in?”
    “You a vampire or something?”
    Hector’s frown grew deeper and he looked at Pike like he was loco. Then a smile cleared the frown in a heartbeat. “Oh, I get it. Because vampires have to be asked to come in.”
    Pike shrugged. “Door’s open.”
    Hector walked inside. “My mom told me it’s still polite to be asked into someone’s house.”
    “I opened the door.”
    “I don’t think that counts.”
    Pike bolted the door shut. Hector took notice of all the locks, but he didn’t say anything. He took notice of the gun, too.
    Around the neighborhood, Pike had a reputation as a guy not to be messed with. Occasionally he got involved in situations—domestic problems, thugs—but only because those events seemed to find him. He didn’t go looking for trouble.
    Well, mostly he didn’t go looking for trouble. Last night had been the exception.
    At the stove, Pike put the .45 back on the counter and replaced the skillet on the burner. He took the bacon grease that he’d saved and poured it into the skillet with the leavings from the last, getting a good half inch of grease in the bottom. He gestured Hector to the small kitchenette table with two mismatched chairs.
    “Have you had breakfast?”
    The boy sat. “Cereal. I can fix that myself.”
    “Can you eat again?”
    Hector smiled. “Yes. But only if you have enough.”
    “I have enough. Eggs over easy work for you?”
    “Yes.”
    Pike took eggs from the carton on the counter, cracked them, and dropped them into the grease. They sizzled upon impact and the whites started to color up almost immediately.
    He cooked quickly and efficiently, the way he did everything.When he finished, he filled two plates with eggs, bacon, and toast that he’d browned in the bacon grease–coated skillet at the end. After placing the plates on the table, he took grape jelly and hot sauce from the small refrigerator and put those on the table as well. He added two glasses of orange juice.
    Pike sat, picked up his fork, and started to dig in. Then he noticed Hector staring at him expectantly, both hands clasped together on the table in front of him.
    “Something wrong with the food?”
    “No, the food looks very good. I was waiting.”
    “Waiting for what?”
    “For you to say grace so that we may eat.”
    “Oh.” Pike thought about that, even tried to remember the last time he’d said grace before a meal. It must have been sometime in juvie, but that had been a while ago.
    He was twenty-nine now, and he and Petey had escaped at fourteen and started living on the streets. Mostly on the streets. Every now and again, they’d been busted on misdemeanors. Nothing serious enough to carry any real weight.
    Pike nodded to Hector. “Why don’t you say grace. I made breakfast.”
    “Sure.” The boy beamed and bowed his head.
    Pike did likewise, feeling foolish. He didn’t believe in God, didn’t even think he had during the bits and pieces of his childhood that he could remember. He didn’t believe in anything beyond what he could do for himself, and he knew his limitations. That kept life simple.
    Hector prayed quickly and fervently, and the words sounded familiar spilling from his lips. “God, bless this food we are about to eat. Bless Mr. Pike for cooking it. Thank you for watching over us. In Jesus’ name we pray.”
    Pike was caught off guard as Hector abruptly raised his head. Hefelt odd for having sat there silent, but somehow hearing the kid pray hadn’t been so bad.
    “Okay, now we can eat.” Hector picked up his fork and started moving food. For a little guy, he could put it away.
    As he ate, Pike thought about the last time he’d eaten breakfast with someone.