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They couldn’t even give me his full name. He’d made up a bunch of fake aliases back then. They said twenty-year-old Marcus owed them a lot, and I mean a lot of money, and ran away overnight. They’ve been searching for him ever since. Only heaven knows what he looks like now. It’s been years. They’re not doing much better than the cops, but they’re my only shot.
“I’ve got to be honest with you, I didn’t think you had it in you. You know, the whole moving to another country thing? I thought he wouldn’t be enough reason and you’d give up. But then…”
A heavy silence falls down the line.
“Then I met your reason.”
Anxiety slams against my rib cage.
“Well, not like met-met. More like saw. She’s a solid ten, by the way. Tight ass, nice tits. Good choice.”
Anger blinds me. If I could reach through the phone and choke him, I would.
“Leave her out of it,” I growl, beating myself up for losing my temper when she’s this close.
“Relax, we just want to be certain you’ve got your head in the game and nothing…” He pauses. “No one,” he rephrases, “is going to fuck this up.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I lower my voice, but inside I’m screaming.
“Nothing. As long as she’s clueless, you’ll be fine. But one word, kid. Just one and bad things might start to happen. Not to mention you can kiss your precious tips goodbye. Got it? We might owe your bro, but we don’t owe you.”
My guilty conscience tests the rage inside me. They collide in my chest, fighting each other until the weak link shatters and my conscience loses. The weak link—my weak link—is her.
“I won’t say anything,” I grumble.
“Good boy.”
“So, you got anything for me?” I glance inside the apartment. Winter, Kendrick, and Will are gathered in the kitchen. Will and Kendrick are seated on the counter, and Winter is laughing at what I’m sure is the dumbest joke known to mankind.
“We’re not sure we’re in the right place. We think he’s on the move.”
“That’s it? That’s all you’ve got?” I grow impatient.
“We’ll tell you the rest in person. I’ll send a guy to meet you.”
“I can’t right now.” I make eye contact with Winter. She offers me a bright smile that I return.
“Then when?”
“Give me a week.” In seven days, we’ll be done moving and Winter’s summer classes will take up a lot of her time. Perfect.
“A week. No more,” Ricky spits, each word coming off as a threat. “We’ll call you tomorrow to tell you the time and place.”
He hangs up.
Tense, I erase my caller history, my self-hatred escalating. I know it’s wrong. I know if she finds out, I might lose her. For good. But I can’t break my promise to Des.
I won’t.
6
Sooner Or Later
WINTER
Sometimes in life, certain places remind you of a certain song. Certain songs remind you of a certain feeling, and certain feelings remind you of a certain person. As we drive in silence toward my mother’s house, I listen to the song raging on the radio: “Highway To Hell.”
Oh, the irony.
