Scott pulled open the door to his brother’s truck and climbed in. “Thanks, man. I really owe you one.” He hauled his overnight bag with him, running through a mental checklist of everything he’d shoved in the bag. If things hadn’t happened so fast, Scott would feel better.
He reminded himself that he wasn’t leaving the country. He wasn’t even leaving town. If he forgot a toothbrush or a pair of underwear, he could go get it. Or go to the store.
“No problem,” Jeff said. He wore a beard where Scott kept his face clean-shaven, but they had the same blue eyes that crinkled extra-well along the outer edges when they smiled or laughed. Jeff’s hair held more dark brown while Scott’s tended to shine red-gold in the summer sun, but it was wintertime, and the sun had already set.
“Where’s Ghost?”
