Now it’s a stretch of land with multiple abandoned buildings protected by rickety fencing. Windows are busted in, weeds and grass grow up through every crack in the pavement, and No Trespassing signs dangle from various spots.
Years ago, there was talk of them dozing down the buildings and using the land to bring more jobs to the area, but this is Harrison Heights, the north side of the Sycamore River where opportunities aren’t falling out of the sky like candies out of piñatas.
Before I reach the turn off that’ll lead me to the on-ramp for the 401, lights blind me through my rearview mirror.
I lift a hand to shield my eyes, but the lights cut out a second later, the roar of an engine catching my attention as the vehicle speeds by. Not wanting to get into an accident because of the impatient asshole driving up next to me, I tap my brakes.
The car swerves in front of me and skids to a stop.
“What the hell?”
Sebastian’s Aviator halts when I slam on the brakes, inches before there’s a collision. My body slings forward as the seatbelt locks and then I’m hoisted back into the seat. My palms which are already sweaty, white knuckle the steering wheel.
My breathing picks up, and my heart hammers in my chest. If I had reacted seconds later, Sebastian’s hundred-thousand-dollar vehicle would have crashed into that car, and then what would I have done?
The thought brings me back to where I was moments ago and the money I won. I slip a hand into my hoodie pocket, breathing out a sigh of relief when I find my wad of cash still there.
A car door slams, and my headlights gleam against the moving figure.
Fucking Finn.
He walks up to the driver’s window with a nonchalance about him. Like it was no big deal to practically run me off the road. Hell, he probably got a rise out of it. I hate knowing I need to deal with him. “Goddamn you, Mom.”
He taps a knuckle on my window, signaling for me to roll it down. It’s the first time I notice the orange glow near his mouth.His fingers pinch the cigarette away as the night air billows into the car.
Looking off in the distance, he takes one puff from the cigarette then says, “Out of the car.” From the chill in his voice, I can tell he’s not fucking around.
I was kidding myself when I thought I’d get away with going unnoticed. He’s keeping a close eye on me, and he knows I was at Gulliver’s tonight. He had to have trailed me from there.
I carefully slip my wad of cash out of my hoodie pocket and drop it into the cup holder. I don’t know what he’ll do if he sees it, and I’m not risking jumping three steps back.
I get out of the car and lean against the driver’s door. I stuff my hands into my hoodie pocket. “What do you want, Finn?”
He narrows his eyes at me, moving to stand two feet in front of me. “Is that a rude tone I’m sensing, Moore? Pretty fucking disrespectful if you ask me.”
My jaw clenches and I offer a pinched expression in return. My voice booms, “You damn near ran me off the road!”
“It was warranted.”
“How do you figure that?”
He sucks down a quarter of the cig in one go, the glow of the lit end quickly burning up the tobacco. “I’m getting impatient.”
Who’s he kidding? He was already impatient.
Isn’t that why he showed up at Harrison Shipping, to prove that he wasn’t waiting forever for me to do right by my mom’s screw up?
“We’ve been over this. I’ll get you your money.”
“Will you?”
“Yes,” I grit out.
“I don’t know if I believe that. See, I used to trust your word, but now I see you driving around in a car looking like this and living in a building that you probably never thought you’d see yourself in.”
I shift on my feet, pushing away the need to pace and run my hands through my hair.
“You have Harrison Heights in your blood, Moore. You grow up in a place like this and it doesn’t leave you. You can try to work your way up, but it’ll always be a shadow that stands over you. I’m that shadow.”
