Chapter Eighteen

Trick

W hen Riot and Rafe get back with the drinks, we all get out of the car and lean against it, all looking in the direction of the diner, although we do talk to each other, so that we don't look too suspicious to the other people in the town.

Fortunately, the weather is quite good, so we don't look completely out of place leaning against the truck and having a conversation. As far as any passerby is aware, we're just a group of teenagers who have met up in town and are catching up.

"I wonder how long it's going to take for him to notice us?" Rafe signs curiously.

"I'd say around now," I reply. I keep my expression grim as Ryan's eyes widen in fear.

They flicker up and down the line of us quickly until they pause on Jensen, and his eyes flash with anger; I glance in Jensen's direction to see if the reaction is simply because of the fight at the Pit or if Jensen is doing something. I'm not surprised when I see Jensen blow the fucker a kiss before he casually sips his coffee and goes back to just staring at him, letting a bit more of his violence show on his face. Ryan's anger fades just as quickly as it arose and gets replaced with fear again.

"I wonder what his plan is going to be?" Cash asks, "Come and confront us?"

"That would be fun," Rafe signs, and then adds, "although I think it would be unlikely."

"Agreed, I think he's either going to make a break for it and try to escape us in his car," Luc suggests.

Jensen interrupts him, "Which would be stupid, because if we were inclined to finish what we started all he'd be doing by driving off is isolating himself and making it easier for us."

"Exactly," Luc replies, shooting Jensen a look for interrupting him that only makes Jensen smirk. "So, if he has a brain cell or any kind of self-preservation, then he would stay put. He's surrounded by people in the middle of town, and there are plenty of witnesses should he need them."

I hum in agreement, that would be the smartest option but it depends on whether he's going to take the time to think through his options or act in fear and do the first thing that comes to mind. For most people in this kind of situation, it's run.

We watch for a while longer, and I'm mildly surprised that he stays still. He convinces his friends to stay several times when it's apparent that they want to leave, and I'd guess that he's hoping we're going to get bored of waiting and leave. The problem with that is we're not waiting because we want to talk to him; quite the opposite, we're happy to keep our distance and just let him know that we know where he is.

Finally, they get up, and he hesitates for only a moment longer before he rushes to catch up to them, realizing that he'll be left alone and vulnerable if it doesn't go with them. Instead of heading toward the cars, they start wandering down the street and looking in shops. Ryan looks over his shoulder as often as he can, checking where we are and if we're going after him. His shoulders relax as he realizes that we haven't moved to follow. Surely he can't be stupid enough to think that's it?

I look at Jensen and Cash, "Follow them, but don't be obvious about it. We don't want his new friends picking up on it and calling the cops or some shit."

"Got it," Cash replies as he pushes off from where he's leaning against the car, and he and Jensen start to walk after Ryan casually.

Cash

W e catch up to them pretty quickly. This town is tiny, possibly even smaller than ours. Ryan hasn't realized that we've followed him yet and clearly thinks that because we didn't follow him immediately, we were going to leave him alone. He's probably trying to convince himself that it's a coincidence that we're up here.

They head into a convenience store, and Jensen and I follow. Ryan still hasn't clocked us, and in all honesty, I'm starting to think the guy has no self-preservation—not as much as we thought, anyway. He's not even checking to see if we're around anymore, and he's only gone into a couple of shops. I'm not being funny, but if I were in his situation and had been threatened with what we had threatened Ryan with, I wouldn't have taken my eyes off us.

"Maybe he's just decided to live in denial," Jensen mutters.

"If we wanted to, we could have easily taken him by now," I reply.

Jensen shrugs, "I know. Not everyone thinks like we do though, because most people don't have to. We have to be so much more aware, just because of who we are and the kind of shit we do."

"Yeah, okay, you make a good point, but still, he's not even trying to make sure that we're not following him," I reply with a frown.

We turn down the same aisle as he's in, and Jensen grins at me. I don't have any time to ask what he's got in mind because that smile definitely means that he's up to something; it's the same one that he smiled when he started a mud pie fight when we were seven, and it hasn't changed since.

Before I can question him, or maybe and most likely caution him, he clears his throat loudly. We're the only ones in the aisle with Ryan, and his gaze immediately snaps in our direction.

"Fuck," he exclaims, dropping the snacks that he had and rushing to the till where his friends are already queuing.

"What's up, Ryan?" A tall guy asks, glancing at us as we step into the queue behind them.

He looks away and Ryan glances at us, I let my face fall into my scary blank expression as the guys call it and shake my head, warning him not to say a word. Jensen clears his throat and moves his jacket slightly so the hilt of a knife is only just visible. The cameras won't pick up on it, especially since he's already noted where they are and has angled his body in a way that they can't see anything.

Ryan gulps, and manages to stutter out, "N-nothing, I'm good."

His friend eyes him curiously and glances at us again; we both smile pleasantly as I say, "Hey."

"Hey," he replies, utterly oblivious that Ryan is practically having a heart attack next to him.

That's as far as the conversation goes as he turns back around and then steps up to pay for his shit. Ryan faces forward as well and studiously doesn't look back at us, but it must go against all of his instincts to do so. His back is rigid, and his hands keep clenching and unclenching at his sides, a slight tremor running through them.

We pay for our stuff as they leave the store, and we hang about for a few minutes longer as Jensen gets some more snacks for the road trip home; we stay just long enough for him to think that we aren't going to follow him anymore before we step out and look either way. They're easy to spot since they aren't exactly walking fast, although from the looks of it, Ryan is trying to get them to speed up, and they're all looking at him like he's losing it.

Which, to be quite honest, he may be.

They're heading back toward the diner, and we follow further back than we were following him before. This time, he does look around regularly and quickly finds us. This time though, neither of us acknowledges him, we don't wave or smile, we just continue after him. He gradually gets more nervous before he gets to his car, practically throwing himself inside and earning more perplexed looks from his friends.

He agitatedly taps the steering wheel as his friends all get in the car, and I realize that they either all got dropped off in town by their parents or they're leaving their cars in town while they go and do whatever they're planning to do next.

They take so long that Jensen and I manage to walk right by his door, smirking slightly as his grip on the steering wheel tightens before we walk behind his car and head to the truck, the others are already inside and waiting to go, which is a good thing because Ryans speeds off just as we get into the truck. Unlike him, Trick pulls away calmly, even letting a few cars get between us and them. If he looked closely enough he'd be able to spot us, and I have a feeling that after the mistake of not paying attention to his surroundings before, he's going to be more aware of where we are now.