A rough voice mutters something under his breath, but I don’t hear it over the gunfire still cracking close behind me.
Then, suddenly, I’m airborne. The world tilts and my stomach flips. The sky is below me, spinning and bouncing. My arms flail out, punching and grasping until I’m thrown down hard onto a leather seat. My insides pitch and I gag on the sharp knot at the back of my throat.
A car door slams shut. My breath comes in ragged gulps as I push up, my body screaming from terror.
The metallic click of a lighter snaps in front of me.
Joel’s face appears behind the flame.
His smirk is lazy, a cigarette hanging from his lips as he glances at me through the rearview mirror. "Miss me, sweetheart?"
Taylor is tucked under his arm, curled into him like they’ve gotten real cozy.
Gunshots ping outside the car.
Another presence shifts in the passenger seat. I try to focus my eyes on the blur of movement. Vick. His eyes bounce around the car. His fingers drum erratically against his knee.
The car’s engine rumbles to life and we’re moving, tires peeling. The gunfire fades into the distance.
Chapter Twenty-Four
MARLOWE
Ipush myself up and grab the back of the driver’s seat, my nails digging into the leather. Every inch of my body aches. A pulsing sting radiates through my legs from being dragged across the ground.
There’s a guy next to me in the backseat, built like a wall, broad and solid, probably the one who tossed me in here like a bag of trash. He’s hot in an irritating, I’d-probably-be-attracted-to-you-in-another-life kind of way, but right now, not so much.
I turn to my father, rage boiling over the panic spiraling in my chest. "Dad?" My voice splinters as I push out the words. "You have to tell me the truth. Where’s the money? What did you do?"
Vick sighs, slowly, shifting in his seat, and rests his arm on the window, fingers tapping nervously against the door. "No. But you can make it right again. You know what you have to do, kiddo," he says, glancing back at me. "You know what you have to do for me to set this all right again."
No fucking way. He’s lying.I can see it in the way his eyes won’t settle, the way his hands jitter around just a little too much.
He has the money. He really stole it.
And now he wants something from me.
He scratches a hand over his face before giving me one of his practiced smiles, the kind that used to charm people right out of their wallets. "Lucky," he says, voice smooth. "Fine. Okay. I have some of the money left. You know you can double it for us. Triple it, even. We could be millionaires. We’re just borrowing it for a little bit, you’ll see. Everybody wins in the end."
Oh God, no. He really stole that money.
"I swear I’ll give it back," he continues, his tone dropping into something low and convincing. "But you gotta help me first. Just for a night, two if you really need."
I shake my head. "This wasn’t your money to begin with," I say, my voice tight. "How’d you get it? Tell me the truth. Whose money is it?"
His smile flickers. His fingers stop tapping.
Joel glances at me through the rearview mirror, his smirk widening as he exhales a slow stream of smoke from his cigarette. Taylor leans her head on his shoulder like this isa goddamn road trip.
What happened to Damian? And his family? Did they all… the thought twists something sharp inside me.
I take a slow breath. I can feel my pulse in my throat, a steady pounding that won’t go away. “I’m going to ask you one more time,” I say. “Where did you get the money?”
Vick flinches, eyes flicking toward Joel. “I… I messed up a little.”
I wait.
He exhales, like he’s gearing up for some grand confession, but I know him too well. This won’t be the full truth. It’ll be whatever version makes him look the least guilty. “I just borrowed some money from a friend,” he says. “I explained it all to Joel. How you can make it more.”
