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Lifetime Risk

Page 17

by MEGAN MATTHEWS


  “Trust me, Josie, you are about to get a lot of practice because you’re one of us now.”

  “One of us who?”

  “Well, whatever we are, don’t call us the Bakery Bandits around Katy.” Tabitha laughs while covering her mouth.

  Katy scowls, pushing her on the shoulder. “That is not cool. When I figure out who gave us a name, they are in big trouble.”

  I don’t think Katy’s ever going to figure it out. Nobody will admit it. Not with knowing they face Katy’s wrath.

  “Are you girls ready to go?” Nate asks, leaning his head back into the apartment. “The trucks are loaded and we want to roll out.”

  Tabitha and Katy walk out as Nate holds the door, but I stay behind giving the apartment one last look.

  Nate leans down, whispering in my ear. “I promise it will be a lot better where we’re going.”

  He’s right. I glance up, looking into his beautiful eyes with a smile. “I know.”

  The rest of the weekend passes in a blur and before I realize it, I’m back in the thick of things with my previous life. Well, previous life, but at our new home in Pelican Bay rather than the apartment I made so many memories in with Emma.

  “I don’t have time to drive into Pelican Bay now, Josie,” my ex says, sounding perpetually pissed off. “If you’re moving into the city, you have to deal with the consequences.”

  I roll my eyes thankful he can’t see. Here we go again. Another lecture from Barry about consequences. I guess because I didn’t want to jump right back into bed and perform my marital duties after having a baby, his affair was also one of my consequences.

  “It’s not my fault you left your house late, Barry.” It always amazes me how after years of marriage and our divorce, I still haven’t learned that fighting with him doesn’t help. He just pisses me off so much. I didn’t allow myself to get pissed with him while we were married because I wanted to pretend it was all fine. But life with Barry was not fine and now when I’m able to get ticked, I can’t shut the emotions off even when I should.

  “It is your fault I had to drop her off. You were supposed to pick Emma up this time.” Even though I can’t see his face, I can picture the look he’s giving me. Barry always had a way with snotty faces. “Don’t ask me to do any favors for you in the future if this is the way you plan to act after getting your way.”

  “Noted,” I say through gritted teeth. I never planned on asking for another favor anyway. “Look, Barry, I have to let you go so I can drive. Stoplights and all that,” I say, disconnecting from his call at the turn onto the main road out of Pelican Bay — the one covered in trees and wooded acres and not a traffic light or stop sign in sight.

  I turn the music up loud so I can legitimately say I didn’t hear if he calls back.

  The weekend with Nate was wonderful. We spent time unboxing all our possessions and mashing two households together, and in the evenings, we threw a big barbecue in our new backyard with our friends. It was the first of many perfect weekends. I can’t wait to bring Emma home and have her look at her new place. She’ll love her big room and the fenced-in backyard.

  I pull into the apartment parking lot in my favorite space, deciding to use my key one last time. I need to turn it into the leasing office tomorrow, but I can use it tonight to relive a few memories of our time in this apartment. It is, after all, a place that led to so many other good things. I’m one of those women who likes to live the sappy all over again anytime possible. It’s important to hold on to the good memories and special times while we can. It’s also why I watch the Hallmark Channel Christmas movies over and over again during the month of December. We all know how they will end, but we watch anyway because the ending doesn’t matter, only the journey. Nate better brace for many holidays spent with mugs of hot cocoa watching small-town romances on the big screen.

  I step onto the sidewalk as a car pulls up to the space I just vacated. The driver rolls his window down.

  “Hey!” he hollers.

  Two men are in the front seat, but the one in the back seat puts me on high alert from the start. Anyone with three men in a vehicle would make me a little jittery, but I do my best to remember we’re safe here.

  “Can I help you?” I ask as I move closer to the car believing he wants directions.

  “Yeah, you the hoe who stole our merchandise?”

  I look around, and my body freezes at the mention of drugs. Who are these men and how do they know me?

  18

  “Who me?” I ask, putting a hand on my chest like it’s not possible they could mean me. But my wide eyes give me away. They dart around anywhere and everywhere except looking at the men in the car as I back up.

  The one behind the wheel, an overweight white man with slicked-back hair and dark sunglasses I only thought California troopers wore, laughs. “Yeah, that’s her. Grab her, boys.”

  Two car doors open and I turn, my eyes wide like a bunny stuck in a trap. I run in the first direction I can. Straight ahead. It’s Sunday, and the office is closed, but if I can reach an apartment in the building, there’s a chance someone will help me. I veer left, turning hard and heading toward the apartment building, but something finds my back like a heavy bag of potatoes and knocks me to the ground.

  I open my mouth wide, preparing to scream, but he clamps a hand over my lips and pushes so hard I can’t even bite down. The man on top of me smells like he dumped a bottle of cologne on himself to cover up the fact he bathes in an old ashtray, and I try to gag but the pressure from his hand stops even that.

  “Here’s what you do, sweetheart. We’re going to walk to the car together nice and slow. You scream and my friend will shoot you. It’s that simple. Do you understand?”

  I nod because what else can I do in that situation? I suck in a deep breath but don’t get much oxygen because his hand blocks my mouth and nose as he pulls me up to standing. The two of us march back to the car with the other man following close behind, his angry eyes never leaving my focus.

  “Why do they always run?” The guy in the front seat asks out his window.

  I’m thrown into the middle of the backseat, each man flinging an arm over my chest to make sure I can’t get out of the car and roll away. Which was my first and only thought at the moment. It’s a tight fit and all three of us are breathing deeply as the driver puts the car in drive and pulls out.

  “Who are you? What are you going to do?” I ask, gasping for breath from my unsuccessful attempt at escape.

  Nobody answers.

  “Where are you taking me?”

  The driver’s eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror and he sneers. “Listen up, lady. I’m the one who asks the questions, not you. Shut her up back there.”

  A hand slaps my face and the skin under my cheek burns as I rub away his red finger marks using the mirror to look at my swollen skin. My hair is a wild mess and my lip hurts as if a tooth cut it when I fell down.

  Is this a kidnapping? I’ve never been kidnapped before? I’m not sure what you’re supposed to do. Call the police or not call the police? Not that they would let me call 911, anyway.

  I mentally kick myself, too scared to move in the car unless they find another way to shut me up. This time permanently. Why didn’t I listen to Nate when he told me he wanted to come with me? I was so worried about getting Emma on time that I told him I couldn’t wait for him to get back from the office. It would’ve been maybe an extra five minutes, but it would have meant a very different ending to the situation. All the things people say about small towns being safe are crap. They didn’t poll this town.

  What will happen to Emma if they kill me? She’d be forced to live with her father and the horrible babysitter as the only people to take care of her. I can’t allow that to happen. As we drive further out of town headed into Clearwater, the two years of her life pass before me. The time she cut her first tooth and kept me up all night crying. When she took her first steps and then fell against the couch and bumped her hea
d on the leg. Trick-or-treating and her first birthday party with all her family and friends. We’re only a few months away from a birthday — one I couldn’t wait to spend with her and Nate.

  The events I’ve lived flash before my eyes but also all the stuff I’m missing out on in the future. A life with Nate. The children we would have, with his beautiful eyes and maybe my smile. Definitely his hair, the thick dark strands, which look like they take a ton of time to fix just right, but in reality he only runs his fingers through and goes. Would we have another daughter or son? We’ve talked hypothetical children here and there, but nothing concrete. Does he want one or two or five? I believe I’m particular to three myself, but if I wanted to live in the little yellow house for a lifetime, we’d better stop at two. There are all the barbecues we haven’t had together. Our friends hanging out at our place on weekends. Homecoming games and prom dances for Emma and her siblings. Teaching her to drive. It’s not the past, but all the things I’ll miss out on hurt the most.

  Calm down, Josie. Everything will be fine.

  Everything is will be okay.

  What the fuck am I thinking? Of course, it is not going to be okay. I’m in a car with three guys looking for their stolen drugs. I’m in deep shit.

  A phone rings, the tune a Beatles song, and everyone in the car looks to me.

  “Oh.” It’s mine.

  Without thinking, I reach into my back pocket and pull out the cell phone I stashed there when I stepped out of the car at the apartment building.

  “Hello, Nate?” I say, not sure it’s him even though his named blinked on the screen.

  “Josie, where are you? Is everything okay?” He sounds frantic and rushed. “Winnie is at the apartment with Emma and says your car is there but you aren’t.”

  “I’ve been kidnapped!” I yell into the phone as the man to my right tugs it out of my grip. “Nate!”

  “Shut up, lady.” The tall guy who tackled me pulls his hand back like he’s ready to slap me again. He takes the phone from his partner. “Is this Nate? The Pelican Bay Security Nate?” He’s smiling and his head bobs back and forth like he’s having fun during the madness happening around us. Obviously he’s a true psycho.

  There’s a beat of silence as Nate yells on the other end.

  “Is that so? I’d like to see you cut off my dick with finger nail clippers. I bet we could make some money at the side show,” he says and laughs.

  There’s more yelling from Nate and the man’s face falls at whatever he hears. “I’d advise you to not follow us. We’re just going to ask your friend some questions, get back our stolen product, and then we’ll return her. Probably safe and sound. It depends how forthcoming she is,” he says leering in my direction and wearing a smile, which freezes my blood.

  The power window is lowered and the guy tosses my cell phone out on the road without a second of warning.

  “Hey!” I turn, watching the phone bounce once on the asphalt and then fall into the ditch. “I just bought that.”

  “If you live through this, I’m sure your boyfriend will buy you a new one,” the guy driving the car says.

  I swallow and turn back around to face the front.

  The car slows and we turn, pulling into the parking lot of what has to be an abandoned building on the outskirts of Clearwater. The sides are covered in rusting metal and the roof has a hole in the top with so many tiles missing I bet you can see clear through the top.

  “Get out of the car,” the one sitting next to me says after he gets out first and leans back in the open doorway.

  I stand my ground. Well, sit my ground since I’m in the back of the car. “No thanks. I don’t want to.”

  “Get out,” he says more forcefully this time.

  “But the car is so nice. Why don’t we stay here?” I pat the seat beside me. In reality it’s horrible. There’s a crack in the fake leather seats and is smells like somebody dropped a bag of Cheetos mixed with nachos sauce and let it marinate in the sun. For a year.

  The area surrounding the warehouse is covered in trees and I’ve watched enough monster movies to know I don’t want to go down any dark trails with somebody who has no problems with bumping me off. And even if they don’t take me down out in the woods and finish me old yeller style, the building looks as if it’s about to fall over.

  I’ll be rubble fodder if a gust of wind hits it just right.

  “Get out of the car before I shoot you,” the driver says, pulling a gun out from underneath the front seat.

  19

  I put my hands up, because that’s what you do when someone is pointing a gun at you, and slide my butt off the seat. “Okay, okay.”

  “You don’t want to be late for your meeting.”

  I shuffle toward the front of the warehouse, grateful they haven’t walked me into the woods. You know your life has gone to shit when you’re grateful to be going into a falling down building and not taking a shot to the back. “Late for my meeting?”

  “The boss,” the tallest guy of the three says. “Make sure and be respectful.”

  I hold my eye roll. I’m sure the seedy underbelly of Pelican Bay needs respect.

  The door to the warehouse is shoved open but once I walk through, it’s propped close again. The empty building has a thick layer of dust covering the ground and also floating in the air. I cough, twice, my allergies already annoyed as fuck I’m here. They aren’t the only parts.

  “Take a seat,” the driver says, pointing to a lone chair sitting in the middle of the warehouse.

  That’s weird, but what’s weirder is the old-style television set someone placed on one of those rolling carts they used in schools twenty years ago. It’s just like six grade health class when they made us watch all the sex ed videos with the lights on.

  “Your boss is a TV?” I ask because now I’m thoroughly confused.

  “Shut up and sit down,” he says.

  I hold back the smartass retort about not moving.

  Once my butt is in the chair and I’ve laid my hands in my lap, my body goes tight waiting for a gun to be placed against the back of my head to take me out execution style. Instead the TV turns on and the staticky screen is filled with an image.

  It’s not one I expect. The camera pulls back like they’re filming the guy for an address from the president’s oval office. The man on the screen is no president. He’s skinny with slicked-back hair and a face that would almost be cute if I wasn’t stuck in a warehouse and he was apparently the boss. He’s behind a large mahogany desk, which makes me think he’s overcompensating for something as he sits drumming his fingers on the table. There’s nothing presidential about him.

  “There you are, Miss Summerton.”

  “Hi,” I whisper. “Can he hear me?”

  The guy in the television screen rolls his eyes. “Yes, I can hear you, dear.”

  I nod but then I’m not sure if he can see me either so I say, “Okay.”

  “My name is Antonio and I run a few operations on the west side of the country. It’s come to my attention that you and your friends stumbled upon a shipment of merchandise, which wasn’t intended for you. Rather than leave and go about your day like a reasonable person, you entered the storage unit, looked through my boxes, and then put them in your car and drove away.”

  “How do you know that?”

  He drums his fingers a few more times, not happy I’m asking questions, so I decide to shut up from here on out. “Every good storage facility has cameras, my dear.”

  “So far she hasn’t talked, boss.” The big guy who was driving the car steps forward while talking. He’s obviously the leader of this dastardly trio.

  The guy behind the desk rolls his eyes. “I assumed so since no one called and told me where the drugs were, you moron! That’s why we have Josie here to answer questions.”

  “I don’t know where they are,” I say truthfully.

  “That’s a problem. Because, you see, I need them. With certain acquaintances out o
f the business,” he says the words way too happily, making me think he had something to do with them getting out of the business. “I’ve had to expand operations rather quickly, and your friend Ridge has hired someone to spy on me. Now I don’t think they picked up any useful information, but it’s a weird coincidence my men tracked them right back to Pelican Bay where a few women stole so many pounds of products. Isn’t that odd?” he asks.

  I nod. “It is, but I swear it was just an accident. I don’t know what happened.”

  “You understand why it’s hard for me to believe you?” he says, almost sincerely.

  And the problem is I see how it could be a problem. Were Hannah and Lukis spying on him? Is that why they booked it to Pelican Bay as Hannah said?

  “I don’t want to die, so I promise if I knew I would tell you.” Drugs aren’t worth my life.

  “Where did you take it after you drove away?”

  I swallow and hesitate. I may not know where the drugs are now, but I remember where we took them. I won’t lead them to Anessa’s bakery.

  “Listen, I’m 99 percent sure they’re not still there.”

  “But why don’t you tell me where you went and let us figure out where they are.”

  I shake my head. “No.” I won’t do it to Anessa.

  “You seem to be confused. I have intel that says Lukis and his whore, Hannah, were in Pelican Bay. They talked to Ridge Jefferson. The problem is I don’t know how you found the drugs before my guys got there. Did they call ahead and have a drop point?”

  “No,” I say truthfully, my brain trying to work around all his accusations. Lukis and Hannah knew there were drugs in the storage unit?

  “I want to find my drugs!” he yells, his fist slamming on the table with the resounding bang echoing. “Tell me!”

  With his raised voice, I jump at least an inch off my chair. “I don’t know,” I say choking back tears. Something tells me the crying won’t help me out here.

 

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