The Benders by Katie French Read Free Book Online Page A

asthma. It’s been better lately, but there’s nothing I can do about it now.
    Two figures step out of the Jeep and walk toward us, black silhouettes in the glaring light. Even Kimber stands up straighter, like whoever’s coming is someone to be respected or feared. Either way, it doesn’t bode well for us.
    I glance at Clay. How can we get out of this alive?
    “Son,” a voice says.
    My insides ice over and crackle into bits. Before us stands Nessa Vandewater, Clay’s mother and a Breeders doctor. A vile, evil woman who tried to kill us not too long ago. Dear God, she’s tracked us down.
    Clay pales, his tight jaw dropping. “You…you found us.”
    She smiles, wry and confident like a lioness. Her auburn hair is pinched back in the severe bun like the last time I saw her. The worst thing about Nessa Vandewater is that she has Clay’s eyes. Or rather, he has hers. And yet, on her, they’re humorless shards of blue glass. I can’t look at them. Instead, I focus on her throat and picture jamming my knife into it.
    “You didn’t think I’d be far behind?” She reaches across the night air and cups his cheek. He flinches and pulls back. Her smile widens. “Those who run often don’t get very far, do they, Warden?”
    The figure beside her narrows his eyes. The warden reminds me of a cobra—slicked hair; green, soulless eyes; his white shirt piercing in its pristine color. The last time I saw him he’d had Arn beaten and thrown in jail. I can’t figure out who I’ll use my knife on first.
    “Riley,” she says, turning on me. Her tone is one of mock greeting. She runs a red fingernail down my cheek. “You look… Well, I’d like to say you look well, but you’re a mess. Cowboy hat and bandana. It’s so overdone.” She yanks the bandana off my neck. I practice killing her with my eyes.
    “What have you done to my aunt?” I spit through my teeth. “If you’ve hurt her—”
    “Shut up,” she says. “We’re wasting time. I hate wasting time.” She gestures to Kimber and he strides behind me, his hand clamping over my mouth and another around my chest. He smells like horse manure. I fight him, but his arms are strong. Beside me, Clay turns to fight, but the warden raises his gun and two more guards slide out of the back of the Jeep.
    Clay’s eyes find mine and we exchange a look, one that says we’ll get out of this. It’s a lie and we both know it.
    “Take her,” she says, indicating to me.
    “No!” Clay lurches forward, catching the warden off-guard. The gun in the warden’s hand goes off with a bang and the stink of gunpowder. I scream into Kimber’s hand, afraid for Clay, but he’s still moving. He’s on the warden now, wrestling for the revolver. They fight over the gun like two dogs over the last scrap of food, teeth gritted, veins bulging. The warden’s eyes flash wide as his hand slips. Clay’s hand closes around the gun.
    Something metal presses hard into my temple, sending a burst of pain into my head. I yelp into Kimber’s palm and try to fight, but his grip is iron.
    “I’ll shoot her if you don’t stop,” Nessa says. Her perfume is thick, the smell of funeral flowers. “Clay!” she screams when he turns but doesn’t let go of the gun. “I’ll blow her goddamned brains out! I’ll splatter them all over the street.”
    Clay pants, his eyes drifting between me and her. “Okay,” he says, aiming the gun at the dirt. “I’ll come if you let her go. I won’t fight.”
    I scream my muffled protest into Kimber’s hand. Then I bite, my teeth crunching into flesh and bone. Kimber screams and his hand falls away.
    “Fight her!” I scream. “We’ll fight!”
    But he shakes his head and already defeat floods his face. “We’ve lost, Ri,” he says, quietly, letting go of the warden’s gun. The warden grabs it and staggers back, running a hand over his greased hair.
    “No,” I say, my throat squeezing. “You can’t go with her.” Sadness is creeping over my