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But this time I’d risk the fall to try and take Rex and Frank with me. It didn’t matter to me what I had to do to make that happen. If they were locked up, it would be better for everyone. Becca and her kids, Grandma, and Parrish.
My gaze snapped to the driveway like I expected him to be there again, but he wouldn’t be, would he? Because I’d fought with him on purpose. If I didn’t have to worry about him being around and interfering in any way, this would be a whole lot easier.
I sneaked back into the woods to grab the bag full of a lot of fucking money I had no idea how Frank got. Whatever it was, that shit was likely enough to get one of us killed. For a split second I thought about running with it, disappearing and never coming back, but I could never get Grandma to go and wouldn’t be able to explain the cash. Plus, I didn’t want their dirty money. Not anymore.
The burner cell they had given me weighed heavily in my pocket. The only number on it was to another burner Frank had. We’d only spoken briefly, Frank telling me to meet them in the woods. When I’d gotten there, the conversation had been, again, brief and to the point.
“Tomorrow night. Seven o’clock. The abandoned mill in Travers.”
“I need a fucking address. I don’t know where that is,” I’d told him, so fucking angry that he was forcing me to play this game with him.
“Watch your mouth, McKenna. You only need the information we give you, when we choose to give it. There’s a lot of fucking money and drugs on the line. You better not screw this up.”
I shook the memory from my head as a wave of nausea threatened to drown me. My dinner worked its way up my esophagus until I purged everything from my gut into the grass.
This was big, way more than the petty drug dealing I’d done for Frank before getting locked up. There was no way back from this. I knew that.
But if it kept Frank from framing Parrish—or worse—it would all be worth it in the end.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Parrish
Saturday was shaping up to be the longest day in existence. I’d been watching my phone since the second I woke up, hoping Riven messaged. It took everything in my power not to call him, but I was certain I was right in this situation. It was realistic to worry, to have gone looking for him. He’d been distant. Something was going on, and Riven was keeping me out of the loop, which wasn’t fair. Add that to him telling me straight up that he needed space, so I had no business calling him, and yeah, the day was even more torturous.
What I couldn’t get over was that this didn’t sit right with me. Something felt entirely fucking wrong, but I wasn’t a mind reader. I could beg him to talk to me, but I couldn’t force him to.
I did my best to keep busy all day. It had been so long since I’d stayed at my own place that there were things that needed to be done. I mowed the lawn and took care of some other outside jobs I’d been slacking on. By midafternoon I was back inside, downed a glass of water, and checked my phone for the millionth time. After a quick shower to get the sweat off, I took care of the indoor cleaning. The supplies from bandaging my injuries after the fight still sat on the bathroom counter, making a pang shoot through my chest. I remembered the way Riven had looked at me when I’d been hurt, the love in his eyes, the tender way he’d taken care of me. Riv came off as such a hard man in so many ways, but he had a massive damn heart.
Hope bloomed in my chest when someone knocked at the door. I rushed through the house, needing it to be Riven, and opened the door—“Oh…hi, Wayne. What are you doing here?” He’d been at my place before but never uninvited. It had always been after we went out or for a barbecue.
“I was in the neighborhood, so I thought I’d stop by. You busy with Riven?”
I shook my head and stepped back so he could come inside. “Nah, not today.” I closed the door behind him. “You want a drink?”
“Sure. Just some water is fine.”
I watched him fidget while he stood in the dining room. Wayne’s eyes darted around my house, his nerves obvious. My gut twisted with a warning I couldn’t make out yet.
“What’s Riven doing today?” Wayne asked. “Is he okay?”
The twist grew, morphing into a tornado inside me. I set the glass on the counter without giving it to him. “Why wouldn’t he be okay? What the fuck is going on, Wayne?”
