Page 57 of On Your Life

I slow down, my hands tightening around the steering wheel until I come to a stop. My truck idles as I stare at the piercing beams from the headlights ahead.

I almost put it in reverse. I could just leave. Call the cops and let them deal with this. Or call Fox to come help my ass because it might even the odds. Literally doing anything but finding out what the fuck is waiting for me outside of this truck.

Instead, I force myself to control my breathing. Coming off like a scared little bitch isn’t going to work in my favor.

If they’re smart, I’m already outnumbered. The pit of dread continues to grow deeper.

I should have stayed home. She deserves whatever she gets. I’ve been begging her for years to get her shit together and here she is, risking her only son’s life.

The SUV’s driver-side door opens. My entire body goes rigid. Someone steps out, then another figure climbs out from the back with a body.

She has a cloth bag pulled over her head, but I recognize the shirt immediately. My dad’s shirt.

That tiny detail feels like a kick to the chest. A stupid fucking shirt. I let myself believe maybe he’s here somehow. That he’s telling me I’m doing the right thing. I jump out of the truck, my hand poised and ready to grab my gun at any moment.

The two men stand side by side with my mom between them. They’re dressed in all black tactical gear, their faces hidden behind masks. My mom’s hands are tied behind her back, but she isn’t fighting. That scares me more than if she were screaming.

“She stole from us. I want repayment,” the man on the right says.

His voice is deep but he doesn’t sound much older than I am.

“What did she steal?” I ask.

I genuinely want to know. Not that the answer would change anything.

“An entire inventory of pills from one of our runners downtown.” He looks toward my mother and shakes his head. “Then had the nerve to throw it all in the river when we caught up with her.”

Fucking stupid bitch.

“What do you want?”

My voice comes out much steadier than I expected. There’s no way I can pay for that shit. I know people that have gone broke just trying to afford their own fix.

“Five hundred thousand,” he says.

He says it so casually that for a second I think I misheard him. Five hundred thousand dollars? Like it wouldn’t cover my entire house payment and leave me plenty left over.

“I-I can’t afford that. Will you take anything else?”

I don’t like begging. This shit is fucking humiliating. If they don’t kill her, I probably will.

“Hmm,” he drags the word out. “I believe we could work something out.”

Something about the way he says it makes every instinct in my body scream. It sounds rehearsed. Like this was the plan all along.

“Like?” I ask.

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he walks toward my mother. He spins her around, cuts the rope around her wrists, and shoves her to the ground in front of me. She hits the pavement hard.

“We’ll be in touch, Conner.”

I barely hear him. I’m already looking at my mother. She’s curled in on herself, knees pulled toward her chest, breathing so rapidly her entire body rocks.

I’m frozen between the urge to run to her and the certainty that I’m walking straight into whatever trap they’ve set.

When I finally look up, the two men are climbing back into the SUV. I watch as they drive away. Unease settles over me. This can’t be good.

Chapter 30