15
HAWK
I stareat the text message glowing against the dark truck interior.
Are you alone?
I exhale through my nose.
The smart move would be to stall.Lie, maybe.But if I tell him I’m not alone, he’ll delay, and I’ll just spend the next twelve hours waiting for the other shoe to drop.I’d rather rip the damned bandage off.
I reply.
Yeah, I’m alone.
The reply comes instantly.GPS coordinates.
I blink at it, jaw tightening.“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
I copy the message, drop it into the maps app.The blue pin lands on a rectangle near the northern boundary of the Bellamy property.
I frown and text back.
Where the hell is that supposed to be?
The dots flash.
Put it in your maps.You’ll see.
Already did.Didn’t the dumbass know that’s the first thing I’d do?
What’s there?
This time his answer comes slower.
A favor.Burn the building that’s there to the ground.
My mouth goes dry.
I reread the line twice, hoping it changes.It doesn’t.
I grip the steering wheel hard.“You want me towhat?”I say out loud.
I text him back.
Why the hell do you care if some old building’s still standing?
His response is smug.
Because you agreed to one favor.No questions, and no one gets hurt.Those were your terms.
My stomach twists.He’s right.Those were my terms.One favor, no questions, and he wipes my blood off his safe and my prints off his floor.
It sounded easier when I thought the favor would be something simple.A delivery.A phone call.A warning.
Not this.
Not something that smells like family business.God, my father must have his dirty hands all over this.
