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The thought makes me wish I’d brought my antacids.

I adjust my stance, dropping my hands. “You know, I’ve heard of grown-ass men dropping dead from taking that shit. And if it had been my kid? Wouldn’t matter who was going to do what to you when you squealed because I would beat you bloody right fucking here and then laugh when they carted me away.”

I’ve got a severe case of the shakes starting up inside me. This is the sort of reckless behavior I’ve avoided since the day my daughter was born. Looking into this teenager’s face brings out all the boiling, pent-up rage I’ve been pushing down for the last six years.

Honestly, I’m pleased to see the little shit shaking with fear. If you ask me, a person shouldn’t deal drugs if they can’t even take a little threat without getting knock-kneed.

“So, what’s it going to be? Are you going to tell me where you got the pills, or do I need to get it out of you the hard way?”

“F-fuck. Fine. Just…just don’t tell anyone because it won’t only be me who gets hurt.”

“I’m finding it hard to care much about the health and safety of a little shit who doesn’t know how to keep his drugs locked up.”

“O-okay, I fucked up. I know I did. My sister loves me though, okay? Our mom left last year, and after the divorce, money was tight. They need me.”

I snort, looking around at the sort of neighborhood I couldn’t hope to afford.

“I know, I know. Whiny-ass rich kid problems. But our dad refuses to move, and we’re basically starving inside that house. If something happens to me, my kid sister’s on her own. I was trying to put some damn food on the table.”

Figures he’d come up with the one excuse that actually has any effect on me. “Tell me where you got them, and you’ll never have to see me again.”

“M-my contact, I don’t know their name. I text a number, and I get sent back a drop location. You know that gated community they’re building on the outskirts of town? The one that got put on hold because of funding? Brantleigh Estates. A bunch of the houses are mostly an outer shell with nothing much inside. We go to whichever house we’re told to, and the supplies are there waiting. We leave the money, usually in the mailbox of the demo unit. That’s all I know. I swear.”

“Then who the fuck are you so scared of?”

A wet sniffle tells me the kid’s started crying. “Someone made it really clear what would happen to us if we told anyone.” He shivers again, and I doubt it’s because of the chill in the air. “Anyone hears I talked, I disappear.”

“Get rid of your supply and get the hell out the business, and they won’t hear anything from me.”

I think for a moment, trying to decide if there’s anything more to ask him, but I get a text from Mrs. H letting me know Ella’s asking where I am. And asking if she can have one of those root beer pops she likes. “I’m going to check it out. If it looks like you’re lying, I know where you live.”

I walk backward for a while, keeping eye contact with him until he gets nervous and runs inside. Good.

Back in my car, I drive slow and steady until I’m a few miles out of the neighborhood. Then I pull over so I can properly panic. Fuck, I never want to have to do anything like that again. Didn’t feel good threatening someone who was still practically a kid himself.

Once I can breathe again, I text Mike asking if he can pick up those root beer pops from the store. Then I hurry home to my little girl.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Michael

“You’re not going.” I slam Dean’s freezer door shut hard enough to make the whole refrigerator rattle.

When I got here, Ella was asleep again, so I’m loading my grocery store purchases into the freezer. Two boxes of the frozen root beer pops and a half a dozen of the frozen burritos Dean likes but never buys himself because he thinks they’re overpriced.

Even with my back turned I know he’s pacing. As much as he can in the cramped kitchen space, anyway. His enormous feet thump on the tile floor in rapid succession.

“It’s not your call, Mike.”

It’s cute that he thinks so.

“You’re not going because it wouldn’t be good for Ella. You’ve made some dumb-ass decisions, but you wouldn’t fuck with her safety.”

Thump. Thump. Thump. Turn. Thump. Thump. Thump.

“Her safety is the entire reason for this. Whoever’s responsible for those pills, it needs to stop.”

“You’re not a detective, Dean. Doesn’t need to be you who cracks the case.”