Unbreakable by Alison Kent

more groceries, crossing his fingers the power company had come through. He’d thought about a mini-fridge in case the one in the house was dead, but decided not to be stupid. He’d wait until he knew before spending that money. It would make more sense to pony up for a full-size secondhand one anyway.
    All that aside, he was still on the hook for abandoning thekid. For all he knew, the boy had split, deciding his word wasn’t worth shit. Hard to argue that one.
    As he pulled to a stop in front of the house, he glanced toward the front windows, glad to see Clay was sticking to his end of their bargain and staying out of sight. It was a bargain Casper knew would get both of them in trouble, but it was the only way he could think of to keep the boy in Crow Hill.
    Why he felt the need to do so was yet another question he couldn’t answer, filed just beneath the ones about Faith coming to his bed. All he knew was that Clay had crossed two states to get to him. That was a responsibility he wasn’t going to shirk more than he already had.
    He left his purchases in the truck bed and walked to the back of the house, looking for footprints that would tell him if anyone had been inside the gate. Stupid, when he couldn’t see his own, the damn yard being so dry. But there was a big pile of dog shit—oh fucking joy—a fresh one, telling him his squatters were still here, and at least one of them squatting.
    He tested the faucet next to the back porch, glad to see the water running. Now to check the electricity, the gas, and the appliances. He took the steps two at a time, frowning at the vibration riding up his arm when he pulled open the door. Crap. If the pipes were bad…
    He stepped into the kitchen just in time to raise his hands and deflect the full garbage bag Clay pitched at his head.
    “Thought you were coming back this morning.”
    That had been the plan. And then he’d forgotten Clay even existed. “Yeah, sorry. I got hung up.”
    “Whatever,” the boy said, turning to leave the room.
    Casper tossed the bag into the mudroom, realizing the trash dump was gone and replaced by dozens of similar bags stuffed to bursting.
    Then he realized the rattle he’d thought was the water pipes banging in the wall was the washing machine running instead. He walked back into the utility room, checked the hoses for dry rot and leaks, but found none. Then he looked up to catch Clay staring.
    “Just checking things,” he said, as if owing the boy an explanation, which he didn’t.
    “I checked things,” the boy said, as if anyone who didn’t know to do so was dumb.
    Crabby little thing, wasn’t he? “Where’d you get soap to wash your clothes?”
    Clay gave a nod toward the garbage bags. “Found some detergent boxes in the trash. Scraped enough dried soap from the bottoms to do a load.”
    Clever kid. And clean kid. His hair was about ten shades lighter without all the grease weighing it down. “Looks like you had a shower, too. Scraped together some soap slivers, did you?”
    “There was a bar in the bathroom upstairs. And I took a cold shower. I didn’t want to light the hot water heater and blow shit up.”
    Smart kid, too, though since he’d known to check the washer’s hookups for leaks, Casper shouldn’t have been surprised. “Thanks. I’ll put detergent on my list. I did buy a microwave.”
    “Cool. The fridge finally came on, but I didn’t mess with the stove.” He shrugged, stuffed his fists in his baggy cargo pants. “That blowing-shit-up thing.”
    “Guess you were the man of the house at home, huh?”
    “Because I know how to work appliances?
    “No one ever taught me.”
    “No one ever taught me either.”
    And yet they’d both had reasons to learn. Casper didn’t want to think Clay’s home life had been similar to his; Angie hadseemed like a real good mom. But the more he was finding out about the boy, the more his curiosity was getting the better of him—and the more he was beginning to