Chapter 8
It was dark and raining, so Shane noticed the car that slowed by the shimmer of its headlights, and hunched his shoulders, ready for some nosy berk offering him a lift—or worse, some creepy weirdo offering him a lift—but halted in his tracks when the car ground to a halt and a very familiar voice yelled, “Oi! t**t!”
Shane paused.
“Just get in the f*****g car, you tart.”
Despite himself—despite the anger and the hurt—Shane smiled, and turned. The car was warm, the heating ramped up high as usual, and Jason Kershaw gave him a dirty look before performing a somewhat risky U-turn and taking them back along the main road.
“S’pose Dad called you.”
Jason was very much like Dad in appearance—not especially tall, very broad-shouldered, about as soft and cuddly as razor wire, ash-blo
