Page 92 of Gifts

I lean over to put pressure on the jugular at his collarbone. He screams and starts to writhe under my foot, but finally gives up the code. Pressure points almost every time.

Grady starts to flip through the screens until a sly smile creeps over his face. “Bingo—it’s your guy. The IMEIs match.”

Finally catching a break, I should be elated finding the asshole who’s been fucking with my daughter all this time, but instead, I feel like I’m gonna lose it.

I stand up and put a boot in his side. “So not only are you suspected of murder, but now we’ve got you for harassment of a minor.” He rolls to his side and tries to curl into himself but I pull back and give him one more right in the gut. “Were you the ones fucking around with that car in the high school parking lot before those kids died?”

I’m about to lean down to pull his head back to go at his fucking face, when I’m strong-armed by Grady.

He’s got me from behind, yanking me backwards. “Enough. You want to end up in jail over this shit?”

I’m breathing hard, trying not to think about this guy scaring my daughter for months and recruiting others to do the same.

I look over at Crew and he’s got his phone to his ear. He’s giving our location, calling the police to come get these two. I’ve never wanted to put a bullet through someone’s head as much as I do right now.

No sooner does Crew slide his phone back into his pocket, does a car come around the corner. A blue 300, the same one from the surveillance video that drove by my house when it was shot to shit. It’s the exact car—down to the dents and tinting. I’d know it anywhere, I’ve studied that fucking video a million times.

I shrug Grady off and all three of us leave the guys tied and bound, lying on the ground like roped calves.

The car slows and when they get out, their friends on the ground yell for help.

“Jules, get ‘em!”

“They fucking got us handcuffed and the police are on their way!”

Some might think drive-by shooters would run when they were told the police were coming, but not these dumbshits. They charge, but we’re ready.

There’s two of them and three of us. I let one of them come at me. At just the right moment, I step forward, grab him by the neck, and twist. I almost have him on the ground when he growls and his arm darts out. I catch a glimpse of something shiny just before I feel it slice through my shirt.

Fuck.

The next thing I hear is a gunshot, and the body I was sparring with falls limp from my grasp and when I look down, all I see is red.

*****

Keelie

I jerk when my phone rings. It’s just after two in the morning. I’ve been tossing and turning since coming to bed a couple hours ago.

Waiting for Asa, I knew I’d never be able to find sleep. I grab my phone and my fingers fumble to answer as I push up to a sitting position. I don’t know if my heart’s racing or sinking when I see who it is, because there’s no good reason for him to be calling me at this time of night. I swipe my hair out of my face as I answer, “Crew?”

“Keelie.”

I put my feet to the floor and stand, feeling the need to prepare for something. “What’s wrong?”

“Well,” I hear the phone shuffle and he lowers his voice. “Asa wanted me to call and let you know he won’t be home for a bit.”

“Why?” My voice elevates into a high-pitched panic. “Why can’t he call and tell me this?”

“They’re taking him upstairs and he can’t bring his phone. He’s going to need stitches—I don’t know how long it’s gonna take. Looks like you both are going to have matching scars.”

I have to make myself take a breath. “Wait. They’re taking him where?”

“He got it deep. They’re gonna scan him to make sure nothing important was hit and it’s clean. Really, it’s no big deal.”

I exhale, looking at my bed that Asa has warmed for weeks now. With everything else going on, I haven’t even kept track of how long it’s been.

Staring at his pillow, I know if I planted my face in it, I’d instantly be engulfed with his scent. “Why does he need stitches?”

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