The sound of the sirens drew ever closer. They were practically on top of us. I cut my eyes this way and that. I needed to get out of there. If I got caught and my bag was searched, it was all over for me.
“I really need to run, Piper,” I said, cutting my eyes to the end of the alley.
She grabbed my arm and squeezed it tight. “Not until you tell me what's going on.”
The squad cars screeched to a halt in the parking lot out front and I could hear what sounded like a thousand anxious voices. I hadn't realized the shops in the strip mall had been that crowded to begin with. With all of those witnesses though, it was only a matter of time before the cops came down the alley looking for me.
I looked at Piper, my adrenaline running on overdrive. “I really need to go, Piper.”
She shook her head and tightened her grip on me. “What have you done, Shane?”
“Piper, I can't be here right now.”
She looked around the dumpster to the head of the alley, nodding her head as if understanding something. She pulled me along with her, shoving me through the back door, and into the storeroom of the C&S before following me in. Piper shut and locked the door behind us.
As she rounded on me, the fury in her eyes was unmistakable. “Fine,” she said. “I'm probably breaking a law hiding you right now, but I want some answers. What in the hell is going on, Shane?”
I cleared my throat and shifted the bag on my shoulders. As I did, that's when I noticed the sprinkling of white powder falling out of a hole in the bag – a bullet hole. Seeing just how close I'd come to taking a bullet in the back sent shockwaves of terror through me.
“What in the hell is that?” she asked, pointing to the hole and the fairy dust.
I ran a han
d through my hair, trying to mop the sweat from my brow. My heart was still hammering, but now it seemed to be hammering for a different reason. Or, at least, another reason. I wasn't going to be able to lie my way out of this. In fact, I didn't want to lie to Piper. I just didn't want her learning the truth. The truth about me and the things I was doing.
“Shane,” she snapped, her voice rising, anger coloring her words. “What in the hell is happening here?”
“Fine,” I say, letting out a long breath. “They were shooting at me. Yes.”
She shook her head in disbelief. “Because of what’s in that backpack?” she asked, her eyes telling me she already knew that answer.
My heart hammered away inside of me and the knots in my stomach tightened painfully. This was where the rubber met the road. I feared, more than anything, that when she knew what I was, what it was I’d been doing, that she’d uproot herself from my life. Still, she deserved to know the truth. After what happened to her – and what she'd seen – she deserved to know who and what I was. I couldn't keep lying to her, or as today showed me, put her in danger. Instead of saying anything, I slipped the bag off my shoulders. I wordlessly dropped it at her feet. Piper didn't say anything for a long moment. Instead, she stood before me, eyes lowered to the bag, seemingly unable to look at me.
“Is that what I think it is?” she asked.
“Open it,” I said.
“Is it?”
“See for yourself.”
She looked at me for a long moment and then squatted down. With hands that trembled, she grasped hold of the zippers and opened the bag. Piper stared at the contents for several long moments, not saying a word. Her silence was somehow more unsettling to me than if she'd just flat out started rampaging.
“Piper?” I asked, my voice soft.
“How could you, Shane?”
I watched her as she got back to her feet and stared at me. Her eyes burned with rage and she clenched her fists at her sides.
“How could you do this?” she seethed. “Drugs, Shane? Really? You're running fucking drugs?”
I shook my head “It's not like that – ”
“Don't,” she snapped. “Don't you fucking dare. There is no other way it could be. How could you bring me into this?”
I shook my head again. “I wasn't trying to bring you into anything,” I said. “And I'm not running drugs, Piper. I'm just delivering packages. That's all I'm doing. Ferrying a bag from point A to point B.”
“Yeah, that's kind of the definition of running drugs, moron.”