Between the Cracks and Burning Doors: Book 2 of The Extraction List Series Read Online Free

started at my wrist and wrapped around my forearm, like armor hugging my skin. “But I’m only fifteen. I’m too young to have a tattoo.”
    His face hardened, smile disappearing entirely. “Exactly. Once the police figure out you’re missing, they’re going to be on the hunt for a fifteen-year-old with light brown hair, not an eighteen-year-old black haired young man with a hard-to-miss tattoo. You want to give the world what it doesn’t expect right now, do you understand?”
    That was the first time we had said out loud what I was, or what I was at least on my way to becoming: wanted . Somehow, hearing Dom acknowledge my situation made it easier. “You’re tall enough and built enough to pass for older than you are. We need to play on that.”
    We. I’d never been a “we” before. I was always the kid who ran straight up to his room when I got home from school and hid with a book all afternoon. I dragged myself downstairs precisely at six for dinner and shoveled food into my mouth as fast as I could, glancing at the stairs out of the corner of my eye the whole time. The idea of “we”—a family or a friendship, for that matter—was something I only saw while looking out my bedroom window, as mothers and children, husbands and wives, walked through our neighborhood, smiling, probably talking about groceries and school board meetings: the blissfully ordinary. However, there was always a pane of cold, dew-dropped glass between us.
    “For the next few weeks, I think it’s best if you don’t leave the church, okay? You need some time to heal anyway. After a little time goes by, you can make short trips outside. Gradually. See how it goes. But stick to side streets. Don’t draw attention to yourself. You need to be a shadow when you’re outside these walls.”
    I nodded.
    “Not much of a talker, huh?”
    I shook my head.
    “Well, that’s okay. Saving your words makes them special. Some people drop words like drool. And being quiet will work to your advantage.” Dom went toward the bed, knelt down, and reached under it. He pulled out a huge bin. When he took the lid off a dust cloud lifted into the air. When it faded, I realized there were books inside. “I can’t stay here with you all day, but these should help keep you company.”
    He pulled out a mix of books that had no rhyme or reason: mysteries, romances, math textbooks, a cook book. The covers were worn and curling at the corners. “Obviously, you can forget about going back to school, so I’m going to pick up some more math and science books when I go out and get supplies.” I smiled as I knelt down next to him and he handed the pile of books to me. They stacked at least two feet tall.
    “Dom?” He turned to face me. “Thanks.” I pushed myself to my feet, careful not to drop any of the books, and carried them over to the chair Dom had slept in the night before. As he grabbed his jacket on his way out the door, he looked back and nodded at me. The door shut hard against its frame.
     
    He wasn’t kidding about getting supplies. That night he came back with armloads. He blew up an air mattress and stuffed it in the corner of the room. Once it was inflated, he threw a blanket on top of it along with a pale blue bedspread with tiny black and white rockets all over it. When he saw me looking it over, he laughed. “Sorry, cheapest one they had.” He may have thought I was looking at it funny because it was made for a child. But I was actually staring at it because I couldn’t believe he had gone to so much trouble just for me.
    “No, it’s great.” I smiled wide and I hope he knew I meant it.
     
    It was a whole month before Dom thought it would be okay for me to leave the church. Four weeks under house arrest might have been hard on most people, but I kept myself busy reading every book from Dom’s bin, and helping him with his sermons (or at least I liked to think I was). Not like he needed help in that department, but I think he