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Jig's Last Dance

Page 135

by Nina Lincoln

“Huh?”

“Where’s the package, Alice?”

“Uncle Sal—”

“No! Bring me the girl, or your brother gets hurt.”

“What? What girl?” I ask, but he hangs up before I can get an answer.

Shit. Now what?

Is he asking me for the girl in the pictures? Why? There definitely wasn’t anyone at the house when I grabbed the damn envelope.

Shit. Was she at the cabin? Is that why John wanted me to go that far? But why leave me a damn note in the house?

It doesn’t matter. I don’t have the girl, but I have to do something.

With my heart in my throat, I head upstairs to my dad’s safe and press my finger against the lock. Maybe I can’t save myself, but I refuse to let Ben die because I chose to defy Sal.

When I step onto the porch, I stop and stare at the empty driveway with a frown. I don’t have the fucking car. I left it at the arcade.

Now I’m stuck, and it feels really fucking weird, but I order a rideshare and tap my foot while I wait for Mike in a tan sedan to arrive.

My phone buzzes again, and against my better judgment, I check it with a frown.

Jig: Maybe I don’t know how to do this right, but I do know that you’re what’s right for me. Before you, I couldn’t sleep but when I laid next to you, I slept for the first time in years. So, yeah, I’m a fuck up, but I’m fucked up for you.

With a sniffle, I slide into the sedan when the driver arrives and lean my head against the door with a sigh. How do I respond to that? It doesn’t fucking matter because I’m never going to see him again.

Alice: I wish I could sleep next to you every day until I die

Jig: You can

Alice: No, Jig, I can’t

Jig: Why? We can figure this out, sunshine. You and me together

Wiping my face, I tap out a response and close the phone. As much as I’d like to speak to him all night, I have to focus on Sal and my brother.

Alice: I think I could’ve loved you

The trees fly by outside the window while I fight the thoughts I can’t outrun.

I’m going to die. Strangely, the thought doesn’t scare me as much as it should. Maybe it’s the unbearable ache in my chest superseding the panic.

Jig texts and calls me a few times, but he’s given up, at least for now. The phone battery is on its last legs, but I figure it won’t matter for too much longer, so when Iris texts, I respond.

Iris: John’s getting impatient

Alice: Too bad. I’m not giving him what he wants

Iris: Well, well, little Alice has a backbone after all

Alice: You’re a bitch

Iris: Tell me something I don’t know

Alice: Well, I’m heading toward my death in a rideshare with a driver named Mike. How about that?