Page 56 of Anything For This Love

“I needed the money!” she says, stomping her foot, her posture stiffening. “They already killed Mickey and they’re gonna kill me if I don’t pay up.”

The world tilts on its axis and I nearly topple over. “What are you talking about? What money? Who killed Mickey?”

She shakes her head and I see the fight leave her in an instant. “The people we were working for. Mickey thought it was a good idea to skim a little off the top – as ifthatever works out,” she huffs. “They beat him to death in front of me.” Her chin quivers and anguish darkens her obsidian eyes. “They gave me a chance to pay off his debt. I returned as much of the money as I could, but I was still short seven grand. They agreed to let me work it off.” I cringe at the thought of just how she was expected to accomplish that. “When Ethan had his accident, I told them I had to come back but that I would bring the cash back with me. They gave me two weeks.” She swallows thickly.

“It’s been a lot longer than two weeks,” I point out.

“I know,” she acknowledges regretfully. “That amount has now doubled because I didn’t have the money in time. That’s why I reached out to the reporter.” Shame fills her face and her nostrils flare. She shakes her head as tears well in her eyes. “They gave me five grand for the story about Jacob not wanting Chloe.” Her eyes pinch closed and her face twists with pain. “But I didn’t give them the letter or tell them exactly what it said. I left out those details.”

“Well that was awfully kind of you,” I spit out sarcastically.

“I learned from Mom that you two reconnected in the fall, but she wouldn’t give me many details; she just said it was your story to tell. I found out who he was, then who his father was, and saw my way out. There was already a lot of buzz surrounding him online and I capitalized on the media’s interest in him. It took a couple tries to get someone to bite, but they finally did. I immediately forwarded the money I made from the story, but they weren’t satisfied. They sent someone here to put pressure on me.”

Lightbulbs click in my head. “Let me guess – the guy from the convenience store that Brooks ran off.”

Her head ticks back in surprise. “You know about that?”

“Of course I do. What? Did you think Ethan wouldn’t tell me?”

My mother hangs her head, mumbling, “I don’t know what I was thinking. I guess I wasn’t thinking at all.”

“That’s probably the most honest thing you’ve ever said in your life,” I seethe.

“Look, I only have forty-eight hours to get them the other nine thousand dollars before they come after me.”

I suck in a breath, icy fear spearing through my chest as I think about the ramifications of her situation. If they come after her, the rest of us could get caught in the crossfire. “Why didn’t you go to the cops when they killed Mickey?”

She lets out a humorless laugh and gives me a withering look. “These aren’t the kind of people you go to the cops over. Besides, they wouldn’t have believed me, a cracked-out junkie with track marks running up her arms. Please. They would’ve laughed me out of that police station, and someone would’ve found my body lying in a ditch somewhere.”

A shiver courses through me as I imagine my mother’s frozen body, her lips blue and eyes wide open, being sealed in a body bag.

“Why didn’t you just come to me instead of going behind my back and selling my secrets to a reporter?”

“I thought I could handle it on my own. I didn’t want to involve you or Mom, and I knew neither of you had that kind of money. It was stupid. I know that now, but I was stuck. The moment I gave them that story and accepted their check, the damage was done. There was no turning back.”

Several minutes tick by in silence as we ponder the situation in which we are inextricably linked. “What are you going to do now? They’re gonna come here to collect a debt you owe but can’t pay.” Unease settles in my gut, fear and anger roiling in my belly.

“I don’t know.”

“Well, you’d better figure it out quick.Youbrought this problem to our doorstep, and now you have no solution.”

“I know.”

I’m reminded of all the times she played the victim and left my brother and I high and dry, and feel my anger ratcheting up again. “Did you even consider for one second the danger you were putting us all in? What if they come for you and my daughter is here?” My chest rises and falls rapidly, each breath fueled by the rage building inside me. I clasp my hands in front of me to avoid hurting her. My body is coiled tightly, prepared to lunge at her and put my hands on her, but I refrain. It takes every ounce of willpower I have to restrain myself.

She lifts her hands pathetically. “I was desperate. I didn’t think.”

Before I can respond, I hear the front door shut and my grandmother’s voice calls out to me. Both our gazes snap to the open bedroom door. My grandmother finds us in my room, my mother with her head hung in shame, me red-faced and boiling with rage, my bed littered with a mess of damning evidence.

“What’s going on in here?” she asks, concern filling her face.

“Do you want to tell her,” I ask, turning back to my mom, “or should I?”

Twenty minutes later, my grandmother sits beside me at the kitchen table with my mother across from us. Her hands are clenched so tightly, her knuckles are turning white. She works her jaw back and forth, and I hear her teeth grinding. I don’t think I’ve ever seen my grandmother this angry before.

“I have overlooked a lot of your mistakes,” my grandmother begins, her voice trembling, “butthis– putting your entire family in danger, selling our secrets, and keeping it from us – is by far the most selfish, reckless thing you’ve ever done! You hadeveryopportunity to come clean. You’ve been here a month and a half. We’ve talked every day and you neveroncementioned this absolute dumpster fire situation you’ve managed to get yourself into.”

I hope she’s taken her blood pressure medicine today because I fear what this information is doing to her. If my grandmother has another heart attack because of this, I will never forgive my mother. I may just hand her over to these drug kingpins myself.

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