Authors: Rashelle Workman
I watch the rest without feeling.
My dad struggles to reach my mother. He lies down beside her. Brushes some hair off her face. Places a hand on her hip.
A sob racks through me, breaking the silence. “Why?” I whisper.
Evan kneels down, pulls my forehead to his. “Because your mom and dad were cowards, that’s why.”
I spit in his face.
He falls back, surprised. “Bitch.” He takes a napkin from the bar and wipes his face. Then comes back over and slaps me so hard I see spots. “The simple answer is drugs. Your mom and dad were drug dealers, as were several officers and detectives in the police department. One of the IA pricks caught wind and started an investigation. Kyle’s dad was implicated and so was mine.” Evan slaps me again. “Your parents told them about Kyle’s dad. About my dad. They made a deal with the IA assholes. They intended to sing like the squawking canaries they were. My dad and Kyle’s dad couldn’t let that happen. So your parents were killed. The investigation was closed.”
“But my aunt and uncle? They never did anything.” I don’t believe a word he’s saying.
Evan slaps me again. This time my lip cracks and blood erupts, gushing down my chin. “The assholes blackmailed Kyle’s dad, my dad. Sure, we allowed them to think they got away with it. But we were biding our time. Now that you’re eighteen, you have access to a safety deposit box. Try as we might we haven’t been able to find the key. That’s where you come in. That’s why you’re still alive. Because we need that key, Pudgy Mudgy.”
I’m in shock. “A-A key?” I have no idea about the key he’s referring to. A shuddering breath torments my body. “I don’t know about a safety deposit box, nor have I ever seen a key.”
Evan shakes his head. “I thought you might say that.” He presses some keys on his laptop, and the scene on the TV changes again. It’s no longer the dead bodies of my parents, but of a cot in a small room. Lying on the cot is Kyle.
“You wouldn’t,” I breathe, unable to believe what I’m seeing.
“Trust me, I don’t want to. I actually like the kid. But my father is desperate for that key. If you don’t tell me where it is, Kyle will die. And haven’t enough people already died?”
I stare at the screen. Kyle isn’t moving. He’s lying on his back. His chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm. He’s alive. I’m so grateful my shoulders sag. My breath comes out in a big puff. I didn’t even realize I’d been holding it.
That still doesn’t change the fact that I don’t know where the key is. I rack my brain, trying to remember conversations my aunt and uncle had with me over the years. Something that might have been important but I didn’t realize it at the time.
There is one thing my uncle says whenever our conversation turns serious. “Remember the Titans.” His catch phrase. Then he taps his nose. He’d done it right before I left the house tonight. At the realization that might’ve been the last time I see him or my aunt alive, my heart clenches. The phrase is something I thought was one of his weird quirks—for two reasons. He owns a Titan truck, and “Remember the Titans” is his absolute favorite movie. At least that’s what he said. Now I wonder if maybe the key is in the DVD case or if it might be in his truck.
“So. What’s it going to be? Kyle’s death or the key?”
“You promise you won’t hurt Kyle if I give you that key?” I figure it can’t hurt to stall. If Evan lets me go, I can look for the key and then find a way to contact the police.
He makes a tsk-tsk sound with his mouth. Slaps my face again. “Of course, Pudgy Mudgy. I’ve no desire to kill my cousin. Right now he probably thinks this is all some kind of joke. But it’s going to turn ugly fast if you don’t give me what I want.”
I nod.
“Where is it?”
I clear my throat. “I don’t know exactly. But…”
Evan sighs heavily. “Why did I have a feeling you were going to say that?” He pulls a cell phone from his pocket, presses a button, and holds it to his ear. “Kill—” He gasps.
I hear shouting from the guy on the other end of the phone.
“Mother fucker.” Evan kicks me and I cry out. “I’m on my way.” He grabs my hair. “Sit tight, Pudgy. I’ll be back.” He walks behind me and I hear a door slam.
When I’m sure he’s gone, I twist my wrists, trying to get my hands free. They won’t budge. I know they’ve been zip tied.
No escape
, I keep thinking. Trying to accept that fact, I close my eyes against the hot tears that won’t stop. I keep seeing my mom and dad get shot, and my aunt and uncle. It’s almost too much to take in. For so many years, I wondered what happened. In two minutes, I watched the events unfold. Kyle’s dad didn’t shoot them, but he was there. I struggle to believe it, to understand.
I start screaming. If I’m going to die like the rest of my family, then I’m going to die fighting.
I hear shouting outside the door.
“Evan, you sick asshole. Come back here and fight like a man.”
This is it
, I think.
Kyle
I open the door and look into the hallway. It’s different from my sterile room. The corridor is old, paint peeling from the walls. The corkboard ceiling is stained with old water damage and it smells like a barn. The sound of repetitive dripping sounds from somewhere in the building. I don’t hear people—namely, Baldy and Ponytail.
Stepping out of the room, I move down the hall as quietly as possible. At the end I turn right and enter a giant room, like an airplane hangar. There are airplane parts scattered all over, laying on the floor, hanging out of wooden crates, and piled in a stack.
A smell I’m quite familiar with hangs in the air. Marijuana. Pot. Ganja. The college drug, at least that’s what Evan always called it. Whatever.
It’s obvious Evan is into some shit out of his control, or maybe it’s totally in his control and I just have no idea who Evan really is. The thought hurts. I thought we were more than friends—brothers. It kills me that I was such an idiot. Either way, I need to find him.
There’s a small door off to the left, and I run toward it. Turn the handle and burst into the cold, night air. My skin prickles. I’m immediately freezing and I need a phone. The street is empty and I’m about to go back in the warehouse, hoping to find a phone in there when I see headlights.
“Yes,” I whisper, running toward it. I wave my hands over my head, hoping they’ll see me.
The car stops several feet away. It’s black. Kinda looks like a Beamer. At this point it could be a tractor and I’d be happy.
I run over. The driver’s side window goes down. “Hey—” I begin, and stop. It’s Ms. Spears, the English professor I TA for at the college. “What the hell are you doing here?” I want to question her further, but mostly I want to get out of here.
“Get in,” she commands.
I want to and place my hand on the door, but I hesitate. A lot has gone down between us.
“Don’t be an asshole.” She whips out a badge. I lean forward, really checking it out.
“FBI? Really? You expect me to buy that?” I can’t help the snort the leaves my throat.
A guy leans across her and holds a badge out for me to see. “This isn’t a game, son. Get in the damn car.”
I freezing my balls off and completely shocked. “Serious?”
Bitchy shakes her head. “Yes, you idiot.”
I climb in behind her. Buckle up.
The car jolts forward and the guy with black hair turns to face me. “My name is Agent Harris. I’ve been with the FBI for fifteen years, and am agent Smythe’s partner.”
“Agent Smythe?” I interrupt.
He points at Bitchy. She raises a hand, and waves. “Hellooooo.”
“So, tell me, Kyle. What do you know about your uncle and aunt?”
“Um.” I’m not sure what to say. “They’re family. I care about them. I know my aunt is constantly hanging out with her friends at the country club. My uncle is constantly gone, dealing with his restaurant. They’re busy. I know there’s more. I’ve known it for as long as I’ve known Evan has been dealing with drug dealers and whoever else. But they’re all I have. So I looked the other way. “My uncle owns an Italian restaurant. My aunt likes to hang out at the country club.” I stop, clamp my mouth shut. What do they want me to say?
Agent Harris nods. “That’s true. To an extent. We believe your uncle is the leader of a mafia-style drug ring that has its tentacles in the Bellam Springs Police Department. We believe your father worked for him, and he did something to go against the family, which is why he was executed. We also believe that the girl you’ve been dating, Maddelena Martin?” He paused, as though waiting for me to confirm.
“Yes, I know her.”
“Her father came into information about your father and your uncle that would implicate them. But, as you know, he and her mother were killed. And the information wasn’t recovered.”
A bead of fear is forming in my gut, and is growing. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because Maddie is in trouble. We had eyes on her, but she’s gone and we aren’t sure where she is. We’ve been checking all of the known locations your uncle has used over the years, but we’ve come up empty handed.”
“She’s supposed to be staying with her aunt and uncle,” I say, trying to push down the terror building inside.
“We had a car there, but they were called away. It’s all very suspicious. We think they took your girlfriend. Any idea where Evan might have taken her?”
“This is bullshit. Evan wouldn’t do something like that. Let me call him.”
Agent Harris hands me a phone. “By all means.”
I quickly dial Evan’s number, but it goes to his voicemail. After the beep, I yell into the phone, “What’s going on?” I press End and hand the phone back.
“Any ideas?” Agent Smythe asks.
There’s a house Evan’s family owns that’s been sitting empty for years. Evan and I use it to party once in a while. It’s the only place I can think of. “I have one.”
Maddie
There are gunshots and yelling somewhere above and behind me. I’m wondering who else Evan is hurting. Grateful that Kyle isn’t here.
The door behind me bursts open, whipping my hair in my face.
“Clear.”
“Clear.”
“Check the prisoner.”
“Maddie! Freckles! Let me get by.”
A familiar voice and a sob escape my throat. It’s Kyle. I’m relieved, and frightened, and sad, and horrified, and plain worn out. Because it feels like everything in my life has been leading up to this moment. I was a pawn in a very twisted, very real chess game, and luckily—or not so luckily—I didn’t die. But everyone else did. My mom and dad. My aunt and uncle.
Tears leak onto my face. Deep, heaving sobs escape my body. “Kyle. I-My…” I can’t find the words to tell him everything that’s happened. How my heart is broken. That I’m relieved he’s okay.
Kyle
Seeing Maddie’s body tied to the chair, her face bruised and bloodied, it’s all I can do not to kill Evan. Once she’s untied, I lay her on the floor and rest her head in my lap. “She needs an ambulance,” I shout at no one in particular.
“We’ve called for one,” Agent Smythe says.
“Thank you.” I nod, and then return my focus to Maddie. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”
She swallows. I can hear it. “It’s okay. I’m fine.”