Free With a Little Help by Valerie Parv

for all the good it did him.
    Instead of coming down hard the first time Luke went off the rails, his parents had tried counseling, and when that failed, bribery. But they’d only increased Luke’s sense of entitlement, and he became more headstrong and out of control.
    Now he was fifteen with a boy’s mind in a man’s body and friends who gave Nate the shivers when he had to be around them. Mostly veterans of jails and halfway houses in their teens, they cared for nothing and nobody but themselves.
    Nate felt his mouth thin. Was it any wonder he’d resisted Emma’s vision of a nostalgic family dinner for his birthday? She hadn’t been in his shoes, trying to keep his medical studies together while the family lurched from one Luke-driven drama to another.
    The kid didn’t know how well off he was, Nate thought, gripping the steering wheel hard enough to turn his knuckles white. When Luke was born, both parents were there for him. His father came home on time most evenings. As a lawyer, Josh hadn’t been on call at all hours and there was always money for whatever Luke wanted to do.
    Focus, Nate told himself. What mattered now was finding the kid and their mother’s car before anybody got hurt. A call to Joanna told him Luke hadn’t shown up at his own house. He knew the gang’s inner-city territory and headed there, scanning the side streets for the blue Audi his stepfather had given his mother on her last birthday.
    There was no sign of the car near the boarded-up mechanic’s workshop the gang used as their headquarters, or at any of their usual haunts. If Luke was out joyriding, this could take all night.
    But luck was with Nate. A few blocks further on he spotted the car parked across from a convenience store, and went cold. Luke was in the front passenger seat, two friends with him, all watching the store. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what they had in mind. Well, not if Nate could help it. He eased the Branxton into the space in front of the Audi, almost touching bumpers. Then he leaned on the horn.
    At the noise, lights popped on and a few choice phrases were hurled from upstairs windows, telling him where to stick the horn. A tall, thin man appeared at the front of the store carrying a baseball bat in one hand and a cell phone in the other.
    Nate wound down his window as Luke appeared in the opening, his expression wild.
    â€œWhat the hell you doing here, man?” he demanded.
    â€œSaving you from yourself. Get in.”
    â€œPiss off. I’m not a kid you can drag home. I have things to do tonight.”
    Releasing the horn, Nate gestured toward the man with the baseball bat, the cell phone now pressed to his ear. “I can guess what kind of things. Your target looks like he’s calling the cops. If you don’t want to be here when they arrive, I suggest you get in. Now.”
    Luke seemed confused, for a moment looking histrue age. “Man, this sucks. I’ll never be able to face the guys after this.”
    â€œThat’s the general idea.” Nate unlocked the passenger door. In the rearview mirror, he saw Luke’s would-be accomplices abandon the Audi and slink off down an alley, also making themselves scarce before things heated up. Luke’s fists crashed against the Branxton’s roof and Nate winced, bracing himself for the stream of crude language that followed. “Feel better now?” he asked mildly.
    Luke spat out some more phrases but slammed around to the passenger side and got in, slumping as far away from Nate as he could.
    Nate got out, retrieved the keys and locked the Audi. No actual crime had been committed, so the cops couldn’t charge Luke with anything, although they could trace the car to his mother. When he returned, Luke hadn’t moved, but fastened his seat belt at Nate’s command and stayed sullenly silent on the drive home.
    Judging by his stepfather’s white-faced anger