Chapter 8

• The old diner hadn’t changed since Beau was sixteen and too broke to pay for Sadie’s milkshake when she tagged along with Cade and the boys. Same cracked red vinyl booths, same sticky laminate floors, same battered pie case humming like it was powered by duct tape and prayers.
• But tonight it felt smaller somehow — hotter. Like the air didn’t have room for Randy’s nervous sweat and the four Lawson boys and Beau Walker grippin’ a rage he didn’t trust himself to set down.
• They filed in together — five wide shoulders, boots clompin’ like a herd of cattle through the squeaky glass door. Randy saw ‘em first. Beau caught the kid’s eyes go wide, the way his Adam’s apple bobbed so hard it looked painful.