Page 32 of Black Waters

We both laughed, knowing watching over Whit is where we both preferred to be.

“I’m leaving school now. You’re coming soon?”

“She said she gets out at six thirty.”

“Yeah, sounds about right.”

“Link?”

“Bro?”

Crash chuckled. “Even though we are brothers, can we… still be friends?”

I didn’t know how many times I was to be brought to tears by all that we kept learning and experiencing, but I felt my eyes water. “Yeah, Crash. You and I are tight.”

Even though my life was one absolute train wreck after another, after solidifying my connection with Crash, I felt hopeful. There was the feeling of being concreted to someone I knew was brother for life. I knew my mom would eventually get back on her feet, and maybe, just maybe, we could find a way to have a life with Crash.

Walking through my home’s front doors, I heard a racket in my dad’s library. My stomach flipped. I knew my rollercoaster had picked up speed a-fucking-gain. Instinct took over, and I ran as fast as I could. By the time I got to the open doors, my dad was violently swiping everything off his desk and bookshelves. “Dad! What are you doing?”

He turned to me and roared, “HE PUT A CONTRACT OUT ON HER HEAD!”

“What? Whose head?”

“Whitney! Her own fucking father! Jesus! I’m doing all I can to keep you kids alive, and he’s trying to have her killed to remove this whole mess. I placed her with him! Can I ever forgive myself?”

“Who’s coming after her?”

Dad wore an accusing expression.

I fell backward in shock. “No, I just talked to him—he wouldn’t. He loves her, Dad!”

“Do you think I believed my best friend was capable human trafficking? Wake up, Reether! Crash may not be who you want him to be.”

“No… It can’t be.”

Ignoring me, Dad rifled through his safe, pulling out piles of cash. “We have to get her out of town. I’m going to book flights for you both.” He handed me my passport, and my cell rang. I looked down to see it was Harlan and forwarded his call to voicemail. I was about to run with Whit to another country and had no time to talk about high school issues. I was now an adult trying to save a life.

When my phone rang again, I answered in irritation, “Harlan, not now. I’m—”

He yelled over my tirade. “Mom said she just did emergency surgery on Whit, man. She was hit by a car. FYI, my mom could get canned for telling me this.” He hung up.

Getting out of my father’s grasp, I ran past my scared mom and raced to my car. All the way to the hospital, I thought about how I was going to commit murder. I’d found out he was my brother, but I was about to be brotherless because I had been duped. I was convinced every tear Crash showed was a masquerade—a well-rehearsed lie, and he was nothing but a piece of shit, like our father. That castle they resided in was about to burn to the ground.

Barging into that hospital with nothing but vengeance on my mind, I never gave Crash a chance to explain. I’d only known him for a few weeks. Whit, I’d known my whole life. Entering Whit’s room, seeing her propped up with metal sticking out of her tiny foot, I lost my mind! “You were supposed to—” I meant to say, “Stay with her! Protect her! Not try to kill her!”But my body collided into his before I could finish.

Whit being hurt on his watch pushed Crash to the edge of his sanity. Whitney was already sleeping, drug induced, by the time words started being thrown around, none of us caring who heard what. As we fought and bounced off hospital walls, Crash yelled, “I’m so tired of being beaten and pushed around!”

I was the one to face the repercussions of his rage. That was okay. His rage matched mine, and the hospital staff found separating us was quite the challenge. We both were so frustrated and pissed off with all the adults in our lives making horrid decisions, leaving us to pay the price over and over.

Mr. Summers tried to get between us as I yelled at Crash, “How could you do this to her?” Even though Mr. Summers was the one who’d initiated the attack, the fact that Crash had betrayed her set me a blaze.

We kept fighting. “She got out early! I missed it by minutes! I didn’t mean for this to happen!”

Trying to pull us apart, Mr. Summers yelled, “Shut up! Stop this!…”

His voice suddenly snapped me out of attacking Crash and into seeing red for him instead. Next thing I knew, Mr. Summers was up against a hospital wall with me in his face, growling, “Unless you want everyone in this hospital—and this world, for that matter—to know what you’ve done, I want two million in an account for Whit by Monday. Two mil of hush money for the contract you set up to kill—”

“You son of a bitch!” Crash was now all over Mr. Summers, too.