I CAN’T face the thought of running the next morning, of gasping for oxygen as I chug up the hills. But I do bicep curls, and the whole time I’m counting reps I’m remembering how Docker and Michaela showed me how to get out of the sleeper hold.

Sure, the phone call helped—I should send Pete a thank-you card. But first I should send Docker one.

I should eat crow is what I should do. See if he’d take me back. The Official MacAvoy Punching Bag has had it up to the eyeballs.

I tap on Opal’s bedroom door. She’s feeling better, so I tell her I’m gone for the morning. Then I promise Cassie I’ll have a big surprise for her later on, and gather all the stuff I’ll need.

Twenty minutes later I’m unloading a broom, dustpan, bucket, scrub brush, and garbage bags from the ATV, which is parked as far off the river trail as I can manage. After lugging the stuff to the hunting shack, I make a second trip for the lattice I stole from the garage, along with a saw and some nails. Once I’m done cleaning the shack, I won’t bring the ATV anymore. No sense leaving a signpost saying Brick Is Here.

You don’t want to know about the next three hours. But by noon the cobwebs and raccoon shit are gone; the table, chairs, bunks, and floor have been scrubbed with Mr. Clean; and lattice is nailed over the windows with screening to the inside of it. Rain’s going to get in, though, even if raccoons and mosquitoes can’t. I bet I could figure out how to put glass in the windows— add glazing to my handyman CV.

I look down at myself. I’m not Mr. Clean. I’m downright dirty. I’m also smiling, a smile I can’t seem to get rid of.

I tighten the hinges on the door. Putting on a padlock might be asking for trouble, but I’d sure like to bring a few things of my own here. Dishes. Cushions. Candles. A jug or two of drinking water.

Cassie will like it, I know she will. She needs a hideaway as bad as I do.

I fit a piece of lattice over an open knothole in the inside wall, then bang in a couple of nails.

“Hey, Brick.”

The hammer hits my thumb and my heart jumps out of my mouth. I pivot, clutching the hammer like a weapon.

Tully’s standing in the doorway. I lower the hammer.

She looks around, taking her time. “You’ve done a great job— the place was a disaster.”

“Get lost!”

“I have to talk to you.”

I glance down at her feet. “Jeez, I forgot the welcome mat.”

“I saw your ATV by the trail. I’ve known about this place since spring.”