Burnington Gaol

S E V E N T E E N | Adeline

"You told me you were off the case! That you were going to leave it alone!"

"Billy, calm down."

"You lied to me," he said, eyes soft with pain.

I gulped, taken aback by the hurt in his voice. His mouth stretched into a bitter smile. He wiped his face with his hand.

"You know what? Forget it. Don't worry. You just keep running around, messing about with serial killers and rapists and all sorts of scum-of-the-earth deadbeats. Do whatever it is you need to do, because obviously you don't need me."

"Billy, don't."

"No, no it's fine." He said, turning away from me.

"I had to do it!"

He paused, considering, before he flung back around and stormed up to me.

"No, you didn't. You're full of shit. You lied to me, and now you're making up excuses to make yourself feel better."

"And what if he's innocent?" I asked. "Then what? They're going to hang him in two weeks unless I do something about it."

"He did it, Ad. You know he did!"

"I have to do this, Billy. If he's innocent, and they kill him, and I could've done something about it... I couldn't live with myself. No matter what else he's done, I don't think he did this."

"He is bad news, Ad. Seriously bad news. I don't want you hanging around people like that."

"You know, for someone who hates our father, you sure sound like him."

"Don't even start with that."

"It's true. I'm the oldest. Why can't you just let me do what I need to do?"

"Because I love you!" He screamed.

I paused, surprised.

"Okay?" He said. "I love you, and I'm... I'm scared that he'll get under your skin and mess you up bad. And after everything we've all been through with – with Mum... It's just not fair. Just because he's locked up, doesn't make it safe."

I pressed my lips together, looked into his hurt eyes.

"I know, Billy," I said softly. "And you know that I love you too, but I have to do this. You understand that I have to, right?"

Billy sighed, looking down at his shoes.

"I get it," he said. "You care too much, Ad. Even for deadbeats and criminals." He cleared his throat, rubbed his face with his hands. "Okay. What's our next move then?"

"Our?" I asked. "There is no, 'our'. There is 'my'."

"You think I'm letting you do this alone? What kind of little brother would I be?"

"A normal one. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

"Nope. I'm coming with."

"No you're not."

"Yes, I am."

"No, you're not."

"Okay, let me put it this way. If you don't let me come along, I'll dob you in to Dad. I'm sure he'd love the idea of his precious little daughter running around with a deranged psychopath."

"He's not a deranged psychopath."

"Try convincing him of that."

I glared up at him, his cocky half-smile looking back down at me. I let out a frustrated sound and threw up my hands.

"Fine! But I'm in charge. You do as I say. And if you tell Dad about this, I'll tell him about the smoking and the skipping class."

"So that's how it's going to be? If you go down, you're taking me with you?"

"Exactly."

"Fair enough."

© A.G. Travers 2018