Conviction Read Online Free Page A

for me. Anyway, maybe I should feel guilty
thinking about a girl right now. I should just be thinking about my dad.
    “Your dad’s got quite the support network,” Kevin says now. “My dad just forwarded me an e-mail about listeners holding an online prayer vigil.”
    “Ah.” I got the e-mail, too. Every week, Pastor Stan sends out prayer requests to the whole church mailing list, and this week’s started with:
Please pray for strength,
peace, and deliverance for the Raynor family.
“A guy’s on the radio every morning, people feel like they know him, I guess.”
    “Sure.” Kevin leans forward. “It’s a lot to take in, Braden. You know, it’s not even my dad, and it still hit me pretty hard to hear—”
    “So how’s your kid, Mr. C?” He blinks at the interruption, but I say, “How old’s she now again?”
    “Ah—Ellie’s eighteen months. But I’d really—”
    “Yeah? What’s she like now?”
    “Well, she’s—she’s talking now. A lot.”
    “Yeah? Good for her.”
    He drags his thumb against a leather key chain on his key ring. It’s the kind with different clock faces—New York, San Francisco—and a compass. Then, kind of resignedly, he
says, “Guess what her first word was.”
    I’m not in a guessing mood. But he waits, so finally I say, “Mom.”
    “Guess again.”
    “Ball.”
    “Not even close.”
    I sigh. People start trickling through the gate, but the screen’s still saying twenty minutes before Trey arrives. “I don’t know, Kevin. Heritage. Constitution.
Homework.”
    He smiles. “You wish, don’t you? It was
shark
.”
    The cops have split up, all three at different gates. If one of them snapped right now—just lost it, with no warning—and drew a gun, what would everyone do? I read some of the hate
mail my dad’s been getting in his e-mail; I guess some people think he should’ve just sat there and let himself be threatened, maybe killed. “
Shark
, huh.”
    “It was pretty awesome—I won’t lie.”
    I give what maybe, barely, passes for a laugh. I can feel Kevin watching me, and after a while he says, mildly, “It’ll be nice to have Trey around again.”
    “Yep.”
    “I’ve missed that guy.”
    “I’ll bet you have.”
    His raises his eyebrows at that one, but if he thought I was being rude, he doesn’t say it. (I was, actually; I should’ve backed off that
you.
) Instead he says, “You
know, I think he’s glad to be coming back.”
    I make a sound like,
Heh.
    “You don’t think so?”
    “I think he must’ve been banking on the social worker being hot.” I remember her yelling at the news crew. “Or maybe she just scared the—”
    “Oh, give him more credit than that, Braden. He can’t wait to see you.”
    Kevin’s the kind of guy who’d say that just because he’s nice, but I hope that part, at least, is true. I’m nervous as hell to see Trey. I don’t even know what
I’ll say to him. I still haven’t heard a word from him, and God knows how the conversation went with the social worker. It’s not lost on me that he ignored all my calls and texts
the night my dad got arrested, and I’m scared he’ll blame me for having to come back here. I’m scared he’ll think I ruined his life.
    Kevin fiddles with his key chain some more. Then he says, more quietly, “Look, Braden, it’s a lot for anyone to be dealing with. And what they’ve been saying this week about
the DA’s decision is just—if you feel like you need to talk about—”
    “I’m going to get something from the vending machines.” Before he can finish his sentence I get up so fast that for a second it feels like there’s cotton balls inside my
head. “You want anything, Mr. C? I’ll go get you a drink.”
    I get water for myself and Cokes for Trey and Kevin, and then I pretend to still be looking at the vending machine so Kevin can’t ask me anything else. The airport’s
quiet, but it’s still better than home, where your thoughts stretch out huge