A tense moment. “He came at me six months ago. Said he’d just gotten out of lockup, had this crazy idea it was my fault, said I owed him something.”
“Funny how ratting out your friends pisses them off.”
Black eyes flash with hatred. “You’re one to talk.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. You and I? We were never friends. You wanted to use me, but I used you first. Now tell me where Connor is.”
“I don’t fucking know. He didn’t exactly leave his business card.”
“Think.”
“I don’t know! He looked high as fuck, and I gave him some money so he’d calm down. That’s all. I gave him some money because I felt sorry for him.”
I’d love to keep pushing, pushing, pushing until Caleb lets loose with something more helpful. Unfortunately, I think he’s telling the truth. At the very least he’d offer to sell out his so-called friend for money if he had a line. Plus he seems genuinely pissed off at the idea of anyone—me, Connor, or goddamn Captain America—touching his sister. He’s always treated her like she was six years old.
“He contacts you again, you call me.”
A sudden laugh that seems almost boyish. “He contacts me again, he’s a dead man. And I wouldn’t make any long-term plans if I were you, North. No one who messes with Bethany gets away with it. That’s a promise.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
A teacher from Bakersfield, California, played the video game ‘Just Dance 2015’ for 138 hours 34 seconds, earning herself a world record and raising over seven-thousand dollars for charity on the live stream.
Bethany
My piece-of-shit apartment is exactly the same as I left it.
Josh was wrong. Nobody cares enough to break in.
I had him drop me here instead of the theater because the rest of my performance clothes are still hung up over the kitchen sink, drying for weeks now. I’ve been at his place too long. He offered to buy replacements, but I didn’t want that. He’s not going to give me another thing. Not today. I wrench the clothes off the hooks and shove them into my messenger bag.
I don’t know how I’m going to get over that ridiculous visit to my brother’s place. I don’t need to see him at his house. We cross paths at Mamere’s and that’s enough for both of us. Ugh, this apartment is baking. My windows have been closed—for security—and I’m sweating inside five minutes. It’s disgusting here. I hate how much I’d rather be at Josh’s mansion. I hate how much I’d rather be with Josh.
Instead it’s Noah who brings me to the theater and back. Noah who brought me to my apartment so I can grab some more clothes. Noah waiting in the front of the building.
How does Josh spend a night like that with me and go right back to fighting with my brother? As if I’m some piece of meat to be fought over? I take the final step onto the cracked concrete sidewalk, still fuming.
And look up to find an empty curb.
No Noah. No black SUV. No sign of him at either end of the street. Shit.
This is rule number one of staying safe—be aware of your surroundings. I wheel around, heading back for the door. “Uh-oh,” says a voice behind me. It almost sounds kindly, like I’ve dropped a receipt from my purse and someone wants to give it back.
By the time I’ve turned fully around, I know exactly how wrong I am.
I’d know Connor anywhere. He hasn’t changed. Except that his grin has gotten more screwed up by the year. It sends a wash of cold to the pit of my stomach. “Hey, Connor,” I say tentatively. We never spent much time together. Not until I needed some money. Not until—
“Where’s your guy?” He shrugs his shoulders, that grin plastered on his face like a mask. “Somebody’s supposed to be here to pick you up. Your brother’s always got his people lurking around, but I don’t see them.” He taps the side of his cheek, an exaggerated mockery of thinking. “Oh! I know. They got tangled up with the North asshole’s man. They can all have a little party. I bet someone else will be here to pick you up.”
I hesitate. The hesitation costs me everything.
Connor’s gotten faster, and I haven’t been practicing sprints. He catches me a
round the throat after a single step. My whole body jerks back as if I’ve run into an invisible wall. “I know who’s here to give you a ride, sweetheart. It’s me.”
Josh
A baby kicks in its stroller, jostling the array of fabric and plastic insects hanging above him. Another child drags his mother toward the bright candy-filled shelves of the newspaper store. Disinfectant and Starbucks coffee scent the stale air.