Gotcha! (excerpt)

Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Macy came to a tire-screeching halt in front of her grandmother's house. Tears dampened her cheeks. She'd passed the two-tissue limit about four stop signs ago, but that hardly mattered. Nothing did but Billy. She needed to know her baby brother was okay.

She bolted out of her car and raced to the front porch. Intent only on talking to her mom, she didn't even jump when someone caught her arm. She swung around and came face to face with a uniformed Harris County deputy. Breathing became almost impossible.

"Slow down," he commanded. "Who . . .?" His eyes widened.

She ignored the commanding grip, disregarded his awkward expression, and yanked open the door. "Mom? Nan?"

The grasp on her arm tightened. Swerving, she glared at the officer. She'd brought one cop to the ground tonight. What was one more?

"Macy?" her mom called from inside.

The cop released her but followed her inside. Another man, dressed in a suit, stood beside her crying mother. Nan jumped up from the green sofa. The look of anguish in her eyes wrenched a sob from Macy's throat.

"Tell me it's not him. Tell me!" She made her hands into fists. Her nails cut into her palms.

Nan rushed over and placed a hand on each of Macy's shoulders, but she didn't say a word. Pain exploded in Macy's chest.

"No." She dropped to the floor and buried her face into her knees. "Nooooo."

Behind her closed eyelids, she saw her brother as a boy standing at the foot of her bed, teddy bear clutched in his arms. I'm scared Daddy will come home. She heard his whispered words and knew she'd failed him for good this time.

Macy's mom joined her on the carpet. "Go ahead and cry," she said.

"Oh, Mace." Nan plopped down beside Macy. "It's gonna be okay." Her grandma's voice cracked with emotion, and Nan never cracked. She was strong, together, everything Macy wanted but often failed to be. As she'd failed Billy.

Images of him sitting across from her at the prison flashed in Macy's mind. He'd been so afraid. Why hadn't she done something? This was her fault. He'd asked for help and she hadn't done a damn thing. Gripping two handfuls of the faded green shag carpet, she rocked back and forth. "No."

"Listen." Nan brushed a hand over Macy's back. "Billy's not totally brainless. He'll turn himself in."

Macy hiccupped and stared at her grandma. "He's alive?"

"As far as we know," someone answered. "I'm assuming you're his sister?"

Macy looked up and saw a middle-aged man in a suit. "Yes."

"Oh goodness, you thought—" Nan didn't finish her sentence before starting another. "He's fine. Of course, we're going to kick his ass when this is over."

The realization of it all hit Macy with sweet relief, but it left a bitter aftertaste. Billy wasn't dead, but he'd broken out of prison? Why hadn't she realized how desperate he sounded, how afraid? Now the police would chase him down, shoot him dead if he did something stupid. And Billy was notorious for doing stupid things. Nan was right. As soon as they got him safely back behind bars, Macy was going to kick that boy's ass.

She glanced at her mother, wrapped in her faded pink terry-cloth robe, then at Nan, who appeared strong in her purple Cinderella pajamas. God, she loved them both. And Billy. She loved her brother—who was alive. Alive!

Another sob escaped Macy's lips, and she hugged her mom. Nan moved in, and it became a group hug. I'm sorry I didn't call," Macy said. "I thought you wanted to ask about the visit."