Hemlock Read Online Free Page A

my backpack. “I’m sorry,” he told Trey as he squared his shoulders. “It must suck, knowing you fight like your mother.”
    This time, when Jason hit the ground, it took him longer to get up.
    I pressed a damp washcloth to Jason’s face, gently trying to wipe I pressed a damp washcloth to Jason’s face, gently trying to wipe the blood away. “Wel, you’re certainly going to turn heads tomorrow.” I frowned as I examined the massive bruise that was just starting to rise on his cheek, a bruise that roughly matched the size and shape of Trey’s knuckles. “I’l say this much: Serena’s brother knows how to land a punch.”
    Jason shrugged. “Might as wel give everyone something new to talk about. Besides, chicks dig men with battle scars.” He took the cloth from my hand and tossed it onto the coffee table.
    I almost pointed out that it would leave a water mark, but honestly, the coffee table was so battered that one more blemish would never make a difference. “Yeah, wel, next time you get into a fight, try not bringing up the guy’s dead mother.”
    Jason flushed. “I forgot.” He actualy looked genuinely embarrassed—something that didn’t happen often. He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry about the money. I’l pay you back.”
    I made a noncommittal noise. I wasn’t ready to forgive him yet.
    Getting him to walk the block and a half to my apartment building hadn’t exactly been fun, and getting him up the winding staircase to the third floor had been nearly impossible. When we hit the second-floor landing, he had turned slightly green and I could have sworn he was about to puke al over my new pink Chucks.
    “Are you sure you don’t want to go to the hospital? You were walking like they hurt your ribs.” I reached for his T-shirt and started to haul up the blue cotton, trying to get a good look at the bruises on his torso.
    “First she invited me up to her apartment, and then she tried to undress me. . . .”

    undress me. . . .”
    I roled my eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself,” I muttered, letting his shirt fal back into place.
    He shook his head. “I’m al right. Besides, if I go to the hospital, they’l cal my dad. He already dragged me to the shooting range on Sunday, so I think I’ve used up my alotted quality time this week.”
    I sighed. “Why is it that quality time in your family always seems to involve injuries or guns?” I never could figure out why Jason’s father was so obsessed with firearms when he could afford to pay people to conceal and carry for him.
    “Not entirely true,” corrected Jason. “Some quality time involves making piles of money and having torrid affairs with the household staff.”
    He caught my hand. “Thanks for taking care of me, Mac,” he said, giving me a smal grin. It wasn’t his old smile; it was the sad half smile he sometimes wore after he had been drinking. Lately, it seemed like the only time Jason smiled was when he was at least a little drunk.
    And that was becoming more and more of the time.
    Everything was messed up without Amy around.
    I bit my lip and fought back the sudden urge to cry. Amy was the one who had died, but I sometimes had the feeling that she wasn’t the only one I was losing. “Jason . . .” I gently freed my hand. “She wouldn’t want—”
    He cut me off. “Don’t, okay? We can talk about her tomorrow, if you want. Just not tonight.” He rubbed his temple. “Al right?” He shivered, even though it was warm in the apartment. Any time I shivered, even though it was warm in the apartment. Any time I tried to bring up Amy, Jason started shaking.
    I nodded, though I knew we wouldn’t talk about her tomorrow.
    We never did.
    Jason roled his shoulders, trying to work out the kinks from his fight with Trey. “Don’t suppose you have anything to drink?” The half smile was gone, his expression locked down and inscrutable.
    “You tossed my JD.”
    “Sorry. Just water and soda.” There actualy was a bottle of