Read Gun Lake for Free Online

iron-grilled gate to walk up stone steps. Surely nobody in the older apartment building had bothered to look outside and notice that the newest arrival was considerably older than anyone else in the area. She knew the number by the label beside the apartment doorbell. Sam K. was the name Samantha had written. The apartment number was 3B.
    The place was easy to find. She just followed the loud thunder of music from behind one of the doors. Probably nothing out of the ordinary, even on a weeknight. She didn’t bother knocking. The door was unlocked, so she walked into the loft to find thirty people standing around with bottles and cups and cigarettes in hand. A few gave her surprised, who-in-the-world-are-you glances, but most of the kids in the apartment didn’t even bother to notice her.
    Rock music pulsed through the one large room she stood in. She looked at the faces of the college-aged partygoers around her. Michelle knew that a forty-two-year-old woman dressed in jeans and a tee-shirt looked oddly out of place at this bash, but she didn’t care. She just wanted to find her son.
    A short red-headed girl walking across the wooden floor glanced her way and then stopped. Her eyes widened and she stood for a moment, seemingly frozen. Michelle had seen Samantha only a couple of times before, but she recognized her right away.
    She walked quickly toward the heavily made-up young woman.
    “Where is he?” she asked.
    “Um, I don’t know.”
    “Jared’s coming home with me,” she said. “I can make a scene, but I’d prefer just to get him and drag his sorry tail home with me.”
    Samantha looked confused. “I—he called me and told me he was coming—”
    “I don’t care what he did or you did. Where is he?”
    “Um, I think maybe he’s back in one of the rooms. I don’t know.”
    “What rooms?” Michelle could hear her voice, the aged and authoritative voice of a parent, a voice she still sometimes didn’t recognize.
    “Back there, down the hall. The one on the right?”
    The uncertainty in Samantha’s voice made Michelle hesitate. Up close, she could see the person behind the red lips and dark eyeliner, the little girl who probably actually cared for Jared and showed it in the only ways she knew how. The red lips quivered, and Michelle almost felt sorry for Samantha. She didn’t want to feel sorry. She needed to stay mad a little longer.
    Michelle stalked down the hallway past clusters of laughing and talking kids. Most probably underage, most probably drunk and high. She didn’t care about any of them. Maybe she should have. Maybe she should have called the police right away and busted all of these kids, but all she wanted to do was get her oldest son.
    She tried the door handle and found it locked. She knocked and a voice asked who it was.
    “Jared’s mom. Open up.”
    The door remained closed as she heard voices whispering behind it. She knocked again, then pounded on the door.
    Finally, the door opened to a dimly lit room that emitted a haze of smoke.
    Jared stood at the doorway, the door still mostly closed, obscuring most of the room.
    “You’re coming home with me,” Michelle said without blinking. “Tonight.”
    His eyes looked like half-opened slits. His jawline clenched as he shook his head.
    “I swear, Jared, I’ll call the cops. I will have them bust you and your friends and your cute little hostess.”
    “What are you doing here?” he finally asked, his voice slow, stretched out.
    “Do you want me to make a scene?”
    “No.”
    “Then head for the door.”
    She waited as the door shut for a moment, then it opened again and Jared walked out.
    He looked like a catalog model for Ambercrombie & Fitch. Tall, skinny, a head of thick, wavy, light-brown hair. He wore baggy cargo shorts, an untucked tee-shirt, and sandals. A few fiber necklaces wrapped themselves around his neck. He walked slowly toward the apartment door.
    More faces looked their way now. Probably the word was out on