“Because I always come to you. I didn’t want to hassle you.”
“You’re never a hassle, babe. You’re my sister. I’ll always help out when I can, but that’s a conversation for another day. Tell me about this package.”
“I don’t know anything about it.”
“You didn’t know what was in it?”
“No. He never told me.” Tears started to fill her eyes as she told me, “And I didn’t open it. I swear.”
“So, what happened?”
“When I got to the place where I was supposed to drop off the bag, some guy came up to my car and dragged me out onto the ground and started hitting and kicking me like I was some animal.” Tears streamed down her face as she continued, “I didn’t even fight back. He just kept hitting me. I finally passed out, and when I came to, the bag was gone.”
“Did you call the police?”
“No. I mean, how could I? I had no idea what was in that bag.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right, but we have to do something about your car.”
“I don’t care about the car, Pres.” She wiped the tears from her face as she said, “I have to come up with a hundred grand by the end of the month, or I’m as good as dead.”
“Says who?”
“The guy from the bar.” She was crying and talking so fast it was hard to understand what she was saying. “He said this whole thing was my fault. He said I should’ve been more careful, and it’s all on me because someone stole the package from me. He didn’t even care that I was attacked. He said he would buy me some time and convince them to give me until the end of the month to come up with the money, but if I was even a day late, they would come for me.”
“Who is they?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “Whoever he had me do the delivery for.”
“How could you be so…”
“He told me it was easy money. I never thought it would turn out like this.” She started sobbing as she told me, “I don’t know what I’m going to do. I don’t have that kind of money.”
“We’ll figure it out.” I pulled her in for a hug, holding her carefully so I didn’t hurt her. “First, I need to know more about this guy from the bar.”
“I think you know him.”
I leaned back, looking down at her as I asked, “Know who?”
“The guy from the bar.” She grimaced as she said, “His name is Davis… Davis Crenshaw.”
And just like that, a man I’d always, at all costs, tried to avoid had his hands wrapped around the noose that some stranger had put around my sister’s neck.
I tended to her wounds, and with an ice pack and plenty of Tylenol, I put her to bed. I lay down next to her, watching her whimper in her sleep, and my heart broke for her. I had to do something. It wasn’t like our parents could help her out of this mess. They barely had two nickels to rub together, much less a hundred grand.
I grabbed my phone and started asking a few old friends if they’d seen Davis and where I might find him. A couple of hourslater, I was standing at his door, pleading with him to help me. I hated every second of it, but I had no choice. I had to save her.
Even if it meant selling my soul to the devil himself.
Davis looked completely unfazed when I said, “That guy beat the hell out of her.”
“Yeah, that was a real shame.”
“He could’ve killed her.”
“Don’t see what this has to do with me? I’m not the one who jacked her.”
“But you’re the one who set this thing up! You have to help her.”
