Read Secrets for Free Online Page B

everyone knew Slade too well.
    But Slade could accept that now. It had been harder when he was a boy. As a boy he had thought it grossly unfair to be the one instantly blamed for every misdeed, even if he had been the one responsible for most of the pranks, some kind, some mean, that he and his brothers pulled. Unquestionably he had been the leader of the hell-raising pair, which had become a trio once Edward was a bit older.
    Today, as an adult, he could look back at that boy and smile sadly, for it was so obvious why he had been an unrepentant mischief-maker. He had desperately wanted attention. The only way he had known how to get it was to cause trouble. And trouble begat trouble. He had been punished countless times, but confinement or an occasional slap were not enough to redeem him.
    Yet he hadn’t been the one to get fifteen-year-old Janey Doyle pregnant. That still rankled. It still hurt. Even when Edward had come forward to claim responsibility for the deed, no one had believed him, because Edward was only twelve. Of course, no one had thought James would ever ravish their innocent neighbor, but everyone had believed he, Slade, who had in fact still been a virgin, to be the culprit.
    There had been no minor slap for that incident. Slade had ceased protesting his innocence way before the punishment began. Edward would not stop proclaiming his guilt and had finally been locked in his room. Rick had whipped Slade. But Slade had refused to cry. Rick had been so angry Slade had truly been afraid, too afraid then to understand what his father had been saying. Rick had been berating him for being exactly like his mother. In retrospect it was ironic, because he was actually as different from his mother as a son could be.
    Now he was wise enough and detached enough to know that the whipping had been the trigger for his running away, not the cause. The issue of Janey Doyle’s pregnancy had merely been the last and final straw in a never-ending and bitter battle he’d waged for his father’s attention. The whipping had been a crushing defeat, not of his body, but of his soul. Rick had not tried to stop him from leaving. Rick had let him go.
    James had tried to prevent him from leaving, though. Slade could still hear James’s urgent voice and Edward’s soft sobbing.
    â€œYou can’t go. He didn’t mean it.”
    â€œHe meant it. I’ve got six marks on my back. He meant it.” Slade’s voice choked.
    â€œLet me get Jojo,” James said worriedly. Jojo was their pet name for the woman who had mothered them both. “She’s in the kitchen, crying a flood over you.”
    Slade thought he might cry soon, too. At least she cared—she’d always cared. But tonight that just wasn’t enough. He scowled at Edward, standing behind James, now hiccupping. The stable was dark and he was a small noisy shadow. “Tell him to quit it.”
    â€œStop it,” James commanded, but his voice wasn’t harsh and his hand clasped Edward’s shoulder. “It’s not your fault. You told the truth.”
    â€œSlade’s leaving because of me,” Edward cried. “I should have been whipped, not him!”
    â€œThat’s right,” James said. “Just forget it. Slade, don’t go. I’ll be right back with Jojo. She can put salve on your back.” His tone was desperate.
    â€œNo. She’ll only cry harder.” He turned, moving stiffly, his back hurting. He led the small roan out of the stable. Rick would probably be mad at him for taking the cow pony.
    James grabbed him, whirling him around. “You can’t go! You can’t do this! You can’t!”
    â€œYes, I can,” Slade managed, trying to ignore Edward, who was crying again.
    â€œI’m going to get Dad,” James shouted.
    â€œDon’t you dare!” Slade retorted. Yet half of him wanted James to do just that.
    From the shadows, Rick spoke, stunning