“Where’s the silver or jewelry? Something I can hawk.” His deep voice echoed around her.
The kitchen light was on and provided enough light to project her enormous shadow next to Will. She wished she were as dark and menacing in reality. She took a step back, the unfreezing of her body unlocking her tongue. “I know you’re in trouble, but stealing isn’t going to help.”
He didn’t say anything, turning back to open drawers, searching the contents, and moving on. Papers littered the floor at his feet.
“Anything of value outside of the antique furniture has long been sold for upkeep.” She flipped the floor light on.
The light underscored the fear drawing Will’s mouth back and widening his eyes. His frantic movements spoke of desperation. He pulled a middle drawer completely out. Wood cracked against the floor. A musty, mothball smell permeated the air. He bent over to toss worthless, lacy linens to the side.
The matte-black handle of a gun stuck out of Will’s pants at the small of his back. Her knees liquefied. He straightened and kicked the drawer aside. The whoosh of her heartbeat dampened the curses Will uttered as each drawer proved to contain nothing of value.
She stuck her hand in the back pocket of her jeans. Empty. Her phone lay next to her glass of turpentine. She’d checked it obsessively, hoping Alec would text or call after the game, but he hadn’t. She was trying not to let doubt filter through the sieve of her self-confidence. It had been a huge game, and he was busy.
With her phone miles away upstairs, running straight out the front door to a neighbor’s house was her best hope. Will’s stalk across to her was sudden and startled her into immobility. The gun was pointed at her chest, the barrel wavering in his shaking hand.
In a gesture straight from the movies, she raised her hands by her shoulders and shrank against the wall, seeking protection from something unable to give it. Her mouth dried and swallowing became a chore, the cogs of logical thought slowing.
“I need money. Now.”
“W-Why?”
“I lost something and if I don’t pay up, they’re going to…” His eyes glimmered, but he pushed his face into his shoulder, and when he looked back at her, his eyes were hard and dry. “You must have money. Look at this place.” He waved the gun around the room, his movements jerky.
“Exactly. Look at it. Everything goes right back into fixing something or fixing it up. Look, I don’t know what Hunter told you, but I’m not rich.”
“He told me you have a sweet crib.” The boy’s Adam’s apple bobbed, and the gun dropped to his hip, pointed at the floor.
Lilliana lowered her hands until they were flat against the wall, her palms slipping across the paneling. A hard knock on the front door reverberated like a gunshot. Lilliana half-crouched, instinctively trying to make herself smaller. The gun came back up in Will’s hand, this time directed at the door.
“I know you’re in there, Will. Open up.” The door muffled Hunter’s voice. He jiggled the handle and knocked again.
Will flipped the lock, and Hunter barreled through. “Where’s Miss Lilliana? I swear to God, Will—”
“I’m fine, Hunter.” Her voice creaked with fear, belying her words, as she slid up the wall out of her crouch.
“Put the gun away. You don’t want to accidently hurt anyone, do you?” Hunter put himself between her and his brother. Will’s head shook like a bobble toy, and he tucked the gun back into the waistband of his jeans. Hunter put a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “What’s going on, bro?”
Will’s face crumpled, desperation and fear bursting through the aggression. Hunter put both arms around him, and Will returned the hug, burying his sobs in Hunter’s shoulder. Compassion seeped into her terror, not replacing it entirely, but tempering it.
She should be running for her phone and calling the police. Only the look on Hunter’s face stopped her. “How about we all talk over some coffee?” She couldn’t believe the hostesslike words came out of her mouth.
Hunter mouthed “Thank you” over Will’s head and led him into the kitchen.
While the coffee perked, Lilliana retrieved her phone, tapping it against her chin. Still no return text or call from Alec. Maybe their coaches meeting went long. By the time the three of them sat at the table with cups of steaming coffee, Will’s sobs had reduced to hiccups. It was sobering to see the intimidating man-boy reduced to a wet mass of tears.
“Will.” She waited until he looked up from staring into his cup. “Tell us everything. And, I mean all of it, or I can’t help. Otherwise, I’m calling my friend Rick on the police force.” She waved her phone. Will regarded it with as much terror as Lilliana had eyed his gun.
“Why would you want to help me?” His chin wobbled, and another spear of sympathy weakened her resolve to call the police.
Alec would have bowed up like territorial wild pig if he was there, but he wasn’t even returning her texts. Lilliana was soft, no doubt about that. She was the one always buying from the door-to-door solicitors and dropping money into the various buckets outside of the Walmart. Since the Galloways had landed on her doorstep, she would deal with the trouble as best she could.
“I care about Hunter, and he cares about you,” she said simply.
Hunter picked at an eyebrow, his voice rumbly. “You disappeared. I was afraid—” His swallow was audible. “What happened?”
“I lost a half-pound of meth. It wasn’t my fault though.” Although his voice was deep, it held a little-boy quality as if giving the lame excuse of the dog eating his homework to a teacher. Hunter’s mouth dropped open, and he shoved up from the table to pace.
Lilliana looked back and forth between them. “What’s does this mean, exactly?”
Hunter ignored her. “How the hell did you lose so much? Who is after you and for how much?”
Will pulled at one of the twists of his hair. “I don’t know what happened for sure, but I think one of the boys double-crossed me. Maybe he plans on selling it to fund his own empire. Tried to tell Reggie, but he didn’t give a shit. He wants the half-pound or eight grand.”
“What happens if you can’t pay?” Lilliana asked.
Will held a clenched fist against his mouth, his eyes locking onto Hunter. “I don’t give a shit what happens to me. That’s the God’s honest truth. You believe me, don’t you?”
A chill passed through her, and her voice veered high. “What’s happens if you can’t pay, Will?”
“Now that Falcon has made state, everyone knows who Hunter is.”
“He threatened to do something bad to Hunter if you don’t pay him?”
A conversation-filled look passed between the twin brothers. Hunter mumbled a curse. “Break my throwing hand?”
“For starters.”
Hunter closed his eyes and rubbed the heels of his hands on his forehead. “Ma could sell her car. I could sell mine.”
Will barked a humorless laugh. “Your car ain’t even worth a grand. I’ve raised half. I just need four grand, and we’ll be in the clear.”
Lilliana’s mind whirled around the problem. Four thousand dollars. She had a check sitting upstairs for ten. The fact she was contemplating giving money to a known drug dealer was absurd and foolish.
“What does ‘in the clear’ mean?”
Both boys stared at her. Will blew out a slow breath. “He’ll quit hassling my family.”
“Until the next time, you mean. Will you keep on selling?”
“What else I got?”
Hunter slid back into his chair, his eyes huge and unblinking. “Miss Lilliana, I know you don’t got that kind of cash. It’s why Coach Grayson bought the tile.”
She sucked in a breath. Alec had told her the tile had been free. A perk of his job. Just like Alec to downplay his thoughtful gesture. She glanced at the blank screen of her phone.
“You’re still seventeen. You’d be charged as a minor,” she said slowly.
Will shot up, both hands flat on the table. The chair rocke
d backward and tipped over. “No way am I going to prison. Give me the money to pay Reggie, and I’ll stay clean. I promise,” he said with equal parts panic and desperation and sincerity.
She couldn’t count on a drug dealer promising her he’d go straight. Even though she truly believed he wanted to keep Hunter safe, he would revert to old ways as soon as his life stabilized.
“I know people in this town, Will. One of my third cousins is a county judge. I’ve known Rick Jackson down at the police station since I was little. Coach Wilde hit a rough spot when he was your age and got sent to a wilderness rehabilitation camp instead of jail.”
Hunter righted Will’s chair and pushed him down with a hand on his shoulder. “It might be good to get out of town if Miss Lilliana could talk a judge into a camp.”
Will’s gaze darted over the top of the table, his hands tucked between his legs. “I don’t want to miss your big game.”
“My game isn’t as important as your life, bro.” Another silent conversation passed between the brothers. Finally, Hunter asked, “When is Reggie coming for his money?”
“Tomorrow night.” Will transferred his gaze to her. “You really have that much cash?”
“Normally, I wouldn’t, but I got paid for a portrait this week.”
“Miss Lilliana, not Edwin,” Hunter murmured.
“They’ll be other paintings, other commissions. There’s only one you.” She grabbed his hand and gave it a quick squeeze.
The corner of Hunter’s mouth drew back, and he looked off to the side, fingering the peeling wallpaper with his free hand. He returned the squeeze before pulling his hand to his lap.
Will dropped his head to both hands. “No way is this going to work. If the cops know I owe Reggie eight grand, they’ll charge me with selling and bump me to adult court.”
“But, you’re only seventeen,” Lilliana said.
Will threw himself back in the chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “You don’t know shit about how the system works for black men. It’s not the same for white folks.”
She’d read and heard enough to know he was probably right. “Okay. How about I handle the payoff to Reggie? We keep that off the radar. Tomorrow I’ll see about cashing my check.”
“I don’t even know how to thank you,” Hunter said.
“Play hard, go to college, keep your nose clean. You too, Will. Think of this as an opportunity not a punishment. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Hunter. Let you know how I get on.”
Hunter rose and grabbed Will’s shirt, tugging him along like a toddler. Will stopped at the top of the porch steps and turned slightly, his profile illuminated by the streetlights. “The gun didn’t have no bullets. I’ve never even fired it.”
“You broke in, intimidated the hell out of me, and scared years off my life. If you weren’t so big, I’d take you across my knee and spank you good. Promise me you’ll get rid of it.”
Hunter stood a few steps down. “I’ll make sure, Miss Lilliana.”
The boys were almost to their cars when Lilliana called out, “Hunter! Was Alec still at the Pavilion when you left?”
“Yep. He and the other coaches were in a meeting.”
She waved and retreated to the house. Once they were away, she locked every door. If Alec showed up, he’d have to ring the doorbell. He needed to know what was going on. The longer her scheme marinated, the more hair-brained it seemed. Maybe he’d have some other idea.
Her call went straight to voice mail. Her text went unanswered. Football. He was wrapped up in football. Everything was fine.
Except nothing felt fine. The pit in her stomach flooded with nerves and doubts. Her instincts screamed. Right or wrong, a sense of abandonment grew.
Chapter 23
The next morning, after she’d fortified herself with coffee, she made a call to her Hancock relative judge, catching him before his tee time to pose a hypothetical question for a friend. He assured her that punishment was at his discretion within certain boundaries, but a court-ordered juvenile boot-camp-type program sounded ideal for her “hypothetical” situation. After everything had settled, she would work on Will again.
Next, wearing dress pants, a blazer, and heels, Lilliana sidled into the bank. She pushed dark sunglasses to the top of her head. The rehearsed request that scrolled through her brain sounded outrageous.
But there were advantages and disadvantages to being related in some way to half the town. Disadvantages included a smaller dating pool and everyone nosing into your business. Advantages included receiving many favors. It was with equal amounts of relief and trepidation that Lilliana approached the assistant bank manager, who happened to be a relation.
“Kyle! Great to see you.” Lilliana pasted a parade-worthy smile on her face and held out a hand for a shake.
Two years older in years, but at least two decades older in spirit, Kyle Hancock pulled the waistband of his slacks up over his ever-expanding potbelly and returned the shake. In a jovial, salesmanlike voice, he said, “Lilliana, sugar. What can we do you for this morning?”
She kept her smile in place, but lowered her voice to businesslike tones. “I need a check cashed.”
“I’m sure one of our tellers could help you.” He put a hand on her back and exerted pressure to herd her toward the half-dozen windows, but she resisted.
“Actually, it’s a rather sizable check, and I need a big chunk of it in cash.”
Kyle’s dark Hancock eyes remained crinkled even though his smile had disappeared. “Follow me.”
Once she was seated across from him in his office, she handed over the gallery check. “I need four thousand in cash, and the rest deposited in my account.”
Kyle’s gaze darted between her and the check. “What are you doing with the cash?”
“Is it your business?” Lilliana sat on the edge of the wooden chair, her ankles crossed, her back straight, her hands folded over the small duffle bag in her lap. Instinctively, she fell back onto Aunt Esmerelda’s lessons of ladylike, confident body language.
“As Ben Larkin is out of town and I’m in charge, it most certainly is. Not to mention, you’re my cousin.” Kyle’s jaw was set.
He wasn’t going to give her the money. Nerves cut the reins she’d put on her tongue. “Second cousin, twice removed. We could get married in Alabama. No law against it.” What the eff was coming out of her mouth? “Not that I want to marry you. I don’t. Seriously. Not that you’re not a fine catch for some woman out there. I can’t believe no one has snatched you up.” She forced her lips together.
“I see some things never change.”
“What do you mean?”
“You always did run your mouth when you were nervous.” His expression lightened. “I’ll never forget when you told old Jessup that he smelled like mothballs but went on to declare it was your favorite smell in the whole world.”
Lilliana fanned her face with a hand, trying to dissipate some of the heat. “That was so embarrassing, but I was only eight, for goodness sake.”
Kyle’s forehead wrinkled like a bulldog’s. “Are you involved in something illegal?”
She sputtered a few inane denials. “Certainly not. I’m having some work done on the house and the fellow prefers cash.”
“Is he an illegal?”
“Not to my knowledge. He quoted me the best price by far.”
“And, asked to be paid in cash?”
Ignoring the slight condescension in his voice, she gasped and laid a hand across her throat. “I can’t afford any of the other quotes, Kyle.”
He sighed and steepled his fingers at his mouth. “I wouldn’t do this for just anyone. You understand me?”
“Understood.” She handed over the bag.
Once she was alone in his office, she shifted in the upright chair, tapping her heels in rhythm to the elevator music drifting through the doorway, a million thoughts bouncing around her head like a pinball machine.
Should she have asked for unmarked bills? Isn�
��t that what the baddies in movies always requested? Kyle would be onto her for sure. Anyway, some midlevel Alabama gangbanger probably didn’t care. He wanted his money. End of story.
How long did it take to count out four thousand dollars? Maybe Kyle was calling the police, familial ties be damned. No way would she survive an interrogation from Rick. Whether she’d known him since they were little or not, he still intimidated the spit out of her. All policemen did. What was Alec doing? Why hadn’t he returned her calls? Should she suck it up and drive by his house?
A quarter of an hour passed before Kyle walked back in the office. It had felt both faster and slower.
Kyle dropped the bag on the desk and slid over two documents for her to sign, one for the withdrawal and one for the deposit. She handed the papers back and tucked the bag under her arm.
Kyle escorted her through the sliding double doors of the bank and into the cool, bright sunshine. She pulled her sunglasses down and took a step. Kyle wrapped a hand around her upper arm. “You call me if you need anything, you hear?”
Even though Kyle had never joined in the silly games they’d played as children, he’d never failed to be kind. She patted his hand, and he released her. “Thanks, cuz. I will.”
The clicking of her heels against the marble steps sounded too loud, and although she didn’t look over her shoulder, she imagined Kyle watching her walk away. Her stiff body refused to unloosen, and she hoped it wasn’t as obvious as a neon sign blinking overhead that she was carrying several thousand dollars for a drug dealer. A nervous sweat broke under her arms and across her chest in spite of the cool air.
She turned the corner down a short alley between buildings to where she’d parked. Alec was a quarter of the way into the alley, headed in her direction, but he stopped. Instead of greeting her with a smile and an apology, he glanced over his shoulder as if escape was a more attractive option.
All her midnight fears came rushing back. “Why didn’t you call me back? Or at least a text.”
“I had some thinking to do.”
Melting Into You Page 23