Page 82 of Back On Ice

CARTER

Gravel crunchesunder my feet as I approach the chain link fence walling off the Twin Rinks construction site from the rest of the town. George didn’t ask questions when I texted him this morning, asking him to leave the padlock off the gate. It pushes open easily, allowing me to slip inside.

I almost jump when Detective Peterson’s voice sounds in my ear, jolting me back to reality. “Keep walking, straight ahead towards that light pole. It gives us the best visual to make sure the situation doesn’t get out of hand.”

I don’t risk nodding in acknowledgement, and opt to simply follow his orders. My heart is pounding so hard I wouldn’t be surprised if they pick it up through the wire I’m wearing. Everything hinges on tonight. This confession is the key to make sure my piece of shit father rots in jail for the rest of his worthless life.

The only thing that keeps me focused is I know exactly where Sophie and mom are. Sophie decided to wait it out with Abbie at her dad’s house, since he’s the one who’s been working with thedetective until now. Mom is safe with a police detail guarding her house. Out of sight of course, so Dad doesn’t get suspicious if he drives by, but knowing they’re there lets me focus on the task at hand, instead of worrying about my family.

The weight of the bag of cash in my hand is like a physical representation of the burden I’ve been under the last nine years. Quickly checking my watch, which shows 8:55 p.m., my gut churns in anticipation, knowing that my final confrontation with my dad is only five minutes away.

“You ready, Carter?” the detective asks.

“As ready as I can be,” I mutter under my breath… I have to be ready.

Now, if only I could get my damn heart to stop racing.

The sound of a truck rattling closer puts my sense on high alert, and it takes everything in me to act calm and casual. What if he realizes what’s happening? What if he catches on and bolts before they can arrest him?

“Williams spotted, pulling up in a brown pick up,” another voice says in my ear. “The team is in position.” I’m not sure exactly where they are, but there’s plenty of cover with the construction equipment and work trucks parked nearby.

“Ten-four,” Detective Peterson says. “Remember, Carter, if there’s a hint of danger, you get out of there. My men are ready in case things go sideways, but you can never be too careful.”

Before I can make any move of acknowledgement, the slamming of a car door has my eyes drawing towards my dad. The street lights illuminate his triumphant sneer. Cocky bastard.

Little does he know he’s already lost. I can’t wait to see that look wiped from his face when the cops put him on the ground and cuff him.

He’s dressed up more than he has been since he’s been back, in a worn out suit and tie, like this is some kind of grand moment for him instead of him extorting his only son for money. Hewalks through the opening I left in the gate, looking around the area to make sure we’re alone.

“Dad,” I greet, keeping my voice even.

“You got the cash?” His voice is rough as he approaches.

“Clearly.” I hold the bag up. “But I want you to answer some questions first.”

He stops, his eyes narrowing. “You think you can give me fucking orders? You wanted me to leave, so give me the damn cash.”

I keep my face blank, playing the part of the confident, co-conspirator. “I know, but I think I know what you’ve been doing… and I want in.”

Dad will never confess to me unless he has something to gain from it. A textbook narcissist will only respond to one thing.

Stroking his ego.

“Oh yeah? What is it you think I’m doing, Mr. Big Shot?” He eyes me, stepping closer, his seemingly permanent sneer still present.

“You haven’t needed any extra money from me for the last year because you’ve been getting it from somewhere else, right? I’m not going to be a hockey player forever. I need to make sure I’m set long after I retire. Whatever you’ve got going on, bring me in on it.”

Dad’s expression quickly morphs from one of surprise to a cocky grin. “You want to know how your old man makes the big bucks, huh?” He lets out a low chuckle. “I never took you for a kid who would stray from the straight and narrow. Too high and mighty.”

“I’ll do what I have to do.” I give a noncommittal shrug. “Fuck everyone else. I need to look out forme.” The words burn coming out, and Dad looks taken aback for a second. Shit. Did I lay it on too thick?

“I’ve never heard you talk like that before,” he says, his tone indecipherable as looks me over with an assessing gaze.

Dammit. He’s catching on. I’m acting too out of character to be believable.

I stay silent, trying to keep my shoulders from tensing, hoping he’s not about to say fuck it and leave.

“Hm…” My heart pounds in my chest, waiting for him to question me. I wonder how I’m going to get us back on the right track. “I guess you aren’t quite the fuck up I thought you were. As long as you look out for your old man as well.”

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