“I have someplace set up, an infrastructure in place for people just like you. At the end of it, if you’re still standing, you’ll be a free man.”
Signaling toward the shoulder of the freeway, I pull off of the tar and onto loose dirt, and when my wheels stop, I press the button for the handbrake and place my forehead on the steering wheel.
“If I’m still standing…” I choke out. “And if I’m not? You’ll take care of my sister, right?”
“I wouldn’t cut the deal with you if I didn’t think you’d make it through. I know guys like you, I know muscle and potential. So I know you’ll be fine. It’ll be tough, but we both know you can work hard.”
“If I go to Cabo, I wouldn’t have to work at all, and I’d still be able to call my sister,” I argue. “I’d be free. Maybe I wouldn’t be able to see her, but I could speak with her.”
“You can speak with her where I’m sending you, too.” My caller pauses. “But you can’t tell her where you are. It has to remain a secret.”
I frown and concentrate on the rhythm of my own breathing.
I don’t want to leave my sister, I don’t want to lie to her, I don’t want to keep secrets. But I shot a man today, right through the fucking head. That’s not self-defense. That’s an execution, and any decent prosecutor worth their degree could prove that.
Swallowing and licking my dry lips, I close my eyes and say the words that are probably going to break more hearts than one.
“Where, and how long?”
Olivia
A Fractured Fairytale
Current day…
“We’re doing dinner and cards tonight at the house.” Ben – my overprotective, almost-always-annoying, but definitely-always-has-my-best-interests-at-heart – big brother stands over me inside the Rollin On Gym and smiles.
This is a rare moment of quiet between classes, so I lean back against the wall and hold my adorable baby nephew, Wes, in my arms.
At some point a few years ago, back when I was firmly entrenched in my ‘I can’t stand my brother being all up in my business all the damn time’ phase, Ben moved out of the family home, married his high school sweetheart, made this handsome baby, and now I miss the hell out of them all.
I guess it was one of those ‘be careful what you wish for’ things, because back then, I hated that Ben insisted on knowing everything about my life. But now, I freely volunteer a lot of stuff just so we can hang out and laugh like old times. I had no clue I would miss the guy I’d nicknamed Sasquatch a lifetime ago, but here I am, a grown woman in her mid-twenties, living on her own in an upscale apartment across town, and I miss the hell out of the overprotective people in my life.
“Liv?” Ben leans closer and tickles the fat rolls under his son’s chin. “Dinner, drinks, cards. You’ve been working too much lately. You make me worry about you.”
I give a dainty little shrug and act like I have better things to do. “Who else is going to be there?”
He scoffs and tries to pass it off as offense. “What? I’m not enough for you?”
Smiling, I lift Wes a little higher and blow raspberries against his cheek until he giggles. “I’m gonna need a little more than the sasquatch to pry me off my couch and into real pants.” I meet Ben’s electric blue eyes – a replica of mine – and grin. “I could be drinking apple cider and wearing sweatpants while I binge-watch something on TV, and I’m just saying, fat girl pants sound awfully appealing after the day I’ve had so far, so if you want me to forgo that kind of luxury…”
“Bean and Mac will be there.”
I grin at the mention of my half-sister and the man who adores her. “Go on.”
“Chuck and Nora. Pretty sure Bry and Iowa, too.”
I frown and lean back against the wall. “You mean Bry and Maddi, and Iowa and Brooke?”
“No,” he snorts. “I mean Bry and Iowa. You didn’t hear they’re a couple now?”
I burst out in little piggy laughs that send Wes into a brand-new meltdown.
He’s almost forty pounds of butterball fat and Michelin man rolls. He’s heavy, solid, and adorable as hell, and when his mother – Evelyn Kincaid – is busy at the same time Ben is, and the other five