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Prologue
The sound of metal grating and crunching is like a shotgun going off in my eardrum. Loud and unforgiving.
“ANDREW!” I roar through the phone, but there’s no response. Nothing but the eardrum-shattering sound of metal bending and car horns blaring. “FUCK!” I try one more time to get a response from him. “Andrew! Fucking answer me!” I yell, but all I can hear is heavy breathing then the fucking line goes dead.
I pull the phone back from my face and look down at the disconnected call. My pulse races as I pace the salvage yard, row after row of crunched up metal as high as you can see.
Then I look over at the car I know down deep in my gut has the answers we need, but it may be too fucking late. I take a deep breath, unlock my phone and dial 911. I don’t know his exact location, but I’m sure as hell not going to just stand here and do nothing.
“911, what is your emergency?”
“I need to report a car accident to the Sacramento Police Department.”
Everything happens in a blur as I navigate my way through the 911 call while simultaneously alternating between thinking far too much and being so worried it feels like my brain stops working all. They reroute me over and over until I finally reach the Sacramento dispatch.
The woman is far too calm, and while one might think that’s a good thing in a situation like this, it grates on my nerves as I try to relay what little information I have. It feels like she’s taking her sweet ass time, and I don’t know if we have that luxury. Still, she’s trying to help, so I manage to keep myself calm enough so I don’t explode on her.
By the time the call is over, I’m trembling from worry as well as irritation over the time it took to place that call. It was a fucking emergency, and it took too damn long, but hopefully they’ll get to him in time. I can’t do anything about it from here outside of what I’ve already done anyway, so I focus on what I came to do.
I race toward the office, knowing I can’t leave here until this is taken care of. It’s his one chance to get out from under that bastard’s thumb. Everything rides on this car.
I make another call as I jog toward the front of the lot, one I promised Andrew I’d never make. He made me promise I’d never bring anyone else in. No matter what. I’m the only one he trusts with everything, and the level of danger involved is extensive. However, I have no other choice.
Even though it hurts to break that promise, I need help, and there’s only one person I trust enough to help us with no questions asked.
This is too important to leave, but I need to get back to my office and grab the papers Andrew said he sent. My mind is running through every possible scenario, most of them not ending in our favor. However, of the few that do, this is the only way I see to give us the best fighting chance.
“Colin, what’s up?” he answers on the second ring.
“Hey, SJ. I need your help. How quickly can you get to Wyoming?” I hear some shuffling on the other end of the line, then a grunt.
“By tonight. What’s going on?” he answers.
I don’t know if Andrew is alive or not, but I do know that I need to get to Fraser, Colorado as soon as I can. That means I have to bring in help. SJ is one person on a very short list who I trust enough to pass this on to.
“I can’t answer any questions right now, but I’ll send you the address. I owe you big time for this. When you get here, I need you to secure a car and have it transported to the other address I’ll send.” I blow out a deep breath, relief coming in waves. I can trust him, even though I don’t have a choice in the matter.
“You got it. I’m heading to the airport now. Send me the address and the car. I’ll handle it.”
“Thanks, man. I’ll be in touch soon.”
I end the call and quickly send along what SJ needs to get here and secure the car. When I finish, I shove my phone in my pocket as I open the door to the office at the very front of the scrap yard.
The door slams shut behind me. The slam vibrates through my bones and down deep in my core. I blow out a breath, I can’t fail. If I do then Andrew isn’t the only one that’s going to suffer.
The crazy cab driver named Mike slams on his brakes right in front of a small but quaint blue house. I barely catch myself before my face smashes into the headrest in front of me.
I survey the area, spotting the detached garage off to the left that’s half burned down. Good. That means I’m at the right house. I turn and gather the package filled with everything they’ll need to stay safe. I just hope it’s enough and in time.
I quickly exit the cab’s sliding van door and pop my head back in before I close it. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
Mike gives a quick nod. “Yes, sir.” He gives me a salute. I shake my head and straighten. “This town is cozy but weird,” I mumble to myself.
I make quick, sure strides up the front door. There are several cars in the driveway, so I assume Jack and Andrea aren’t the only people here. God, this will suck. I just have to rip off the Band-Aid, do what I came to do, and get out of here. The fewer questions for me, the better. They aren’t even supposed to know about me, but that plan is shot completely to hell now.
I give three quick, loud knocks to the door and step back. I don’t hear much noise coming from the house, but I try to maintain patience.
My hand clutches and unclutches the package. My palms are sweaty from the weight of what it contains, and bile threatens to rise. I’m about to blow everyone’s world apart inside, and it doesn’t sit right with me. I wish Andrew was here to do this. They deserve to hear it from him, and I guess, in a way, they will. Just not how anyone would want.
