Strong Rain Falling: A Caitlin Strong Novel (Caitlin Strong Novels) by Land Jon

Author:Land, Jon [Land, Jon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates
Published: 2013-08-13T00:00:00+00:00

55

SAN ANTONIO

“You’re kidding, right?” Cort Wesley said to Dylan.

“It’s the district championship, Dad. I’m captain of the goddamn team.”

“I believe I already know that, and I’d appreciate you not taking that tone with me.”

The last of the afternoon sun was fading from the sky, the first signs of dusk appearing to appear in the form of shadows stretching over the lawn and beginning a steady climb up the porch steps. Cort Wesley hadn’t switched the porch light on yet, making Dylan’s face look darker and older. Too much like his mother, especially today. Last thing Cort Wesley needed.

He realized he was blocking what little light there was and stepped aside to little effect.

“What tone?” his oldest son asked him.

“There you go again.”

“What?” Dylan snapped, exasperated.

“Rolling your eyes.”

“I didn’t roll my eyes.”

“Yes, you did.”

Dylan blew the long hair from his face. The fading light seemed to steal the whites from his deep-set eyes, narrowed harshly now on Cort Wesley.

“You see me do that too?” he asked, before storming into the house, stopping on the lip of the doorjamb. “I just wanna play in the championship game. I just want a normal life. Is that too much to ask?”

“Right now it is, yeah.”

He slammed the door behind him, and Cort Wesley turned around to find Caitlin Strong standing there on the grass just short of the porch.

“Thought I heard you,” he managed.

“I tried to be quiet.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t chirp up to take Dylan’s side. Good thing he didn’t notice you, or I’d have someone else to be pissed at.”

Caitlin started up the stairs, drawing even with the edge of the shadows. “Cort Wesley—”

“I don’t want to hear it, Ranger.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“Dylan wants to play in the lacrosse game at St. Anthony’s tomorrow night.”

“I know.”

“You knew?”

“That there was a championship game at the school tomorrow night.” She reached him on the porch and laid her hand on a shoulder that felt like banded steel, hot to the touch, as if it had been baking in the sun. “But that’s not what I’m here about.”

“Like you need a reason to come by?” he asked shaking his head, his emotions twisted like cheesecloth.

“I had another talk with Regent Tawls, Cort Wesley.”

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