The Bad Boy of Butterfly Harbor(60)

“Not everyone is bad or good, kid,” Matt said before Luke could find the words. “You never know what’s going on in a person’s life. Sometimes being bad is the only means by which they can get by.”

“Huh?” Simon scrunched his face up. “What does that mean?”

“It means be grateful you don’t have to live Kyle’s life.” Relief from finally locating Kyle nearly brought Luke to his knees. His blood pumped faster as he glanced in Kyle’s direction before securing the trash can. “Kid’s been hiding pretty well up until now.”

“Maybe he’s ready to be found,” Matt said.

“Maybe.” Luke debated his next move. In the days since Kyle had whacked him over the head, Luke had played out a number of scenarios as to how he’d approach Kyle when the time came. Right now, none of those ideas rang as ideal. Still... Luke squinted into the late-afternoon sun. Kyle knew he was being watched. He went from full slouch to metal-spine stiff that even from this distance had Luke flinching in sympathy. But the teenager didn’t move. More to his credit, he didn’t run. “Might as well see what’s what.” Luke removed his belt, which held his gun and Taser, and handed it to Matt as he stepped over the back stone wall. “Simon, you stay with Deputy Knight.”

“But I’m a junior deputy,” Simon protested, pointing to the miniature badge Luke had found online. “And I’ve been running surveillance on him for ages. I found him!”

“Then, file a report at the station.” Luke wished he’d come up with that idea sooner. Then again, putting Simon in front of a police-station computer made him queasy. “I’ll read it when I’m done.”

“Okay.” Simon’s reply seemed less than happy, but he hustled inside as Luke headed down to the shoreline.

“You want me to stick around in case?” Matt called.

“No. I’ve got this.” And for some reason, he knew he did. Kyle was watching him, the apprehension on the teen’s face becoming clearer the closer Luke got to him. And despite a few flash moments of seeing which direction he could run, Kyle stood his ground, fists clenched at his sides as Luke approached, Cash right beside him.

Instead of speaking, instead of looming over the boy, Luke veered to the right and took a seat on a sizable piece of driftwood, hands in sight, casting his gaze between the ocean and Kyle.

“Heard you’re looking for me.”

Luke heard a slight squeak in Kyle’s voice, as if he didn’t have as much control over it as he’d like. He picked up a sand-covered stick and threw it for Cash to retrieve. The dog bounded off.

“I have been for a while.” Luke pointed at his head. “We have some things to discuss.”

Kyle’s Adam’s apple gyrated in his throat. “You gonna arrest me?”

Luke propped his elbows on his knees. “No.”

“Why not?” Shock and distrust mingled on his pale, narrow face. His stance remained firm, his feet planted, as if bracing for a fight, and his hands clenched and released in time to Luke’s pulse. “You’re a cop. I cut you bad.”

“That you did.” Luke watched Cash race back with the stick in his mouth, but instead of returning it to Luke, he went over and dropped it at Kyle’s feet, panting. “You sorry about hitting me?”

“Why would I be sorry?” But Kyle’s gaze skittered, as if the thought hadn’t occurred to him. Cash’s actions had apparently confused him because he backed away from the stick and dog. “I did what I had to do. You were beating on my father.”

“That wasn’t a beating, Kyle.” Not the one he’d wanted to give Rex Winters anyway. “He’s still in jail, in case you were wondering.”

“I wasn’t. Doesn’t matter anyway. She’ll just bail him out again.” For a fraction of a second, the teenage Kyle disappeared and Luke saw himself in the ragged jeans and worn sweatshirt, as attitude, ambivalence and longing radiated off a malnourished, bruised body. “She always bails him out.”

“I used to bail my old man out,” Luke said. “Seemed to be the best way to avoid any punishment he might see fit to dole out. It was how I convinced him I was on his side. Even though I wasn’t. Know what I mean?”

Kyle pinned Luke with an icy stare and eventually he nodded, his flattened blond hair looking almost platinum in the sun.

“We survive by any means we can, Kyle. You ever heard of Ward Saxon?”

Kyle’s eyes widened before he gave a sharp nod.

“Yeah.” Bile rose in Luke’s throat as he spoke his father’s name for the first time in years. Whatever punishment Kyle might deserve, whatever wrongs he’d committed, he needed to know—Luke needed him to know—that he wasn’t alone. “Ward Saxon was my father. Never met a bottle he didn’t like, and he took that need out on me just about every day of my life. Until I was big enough to fight back.”