Page 13 of Ruthless Bonds

“Oh, fuck,” Dylan whispered.

I could barely hear him over my pounding heart. That poor man down in the basement. His body would never be found. His family would never know what had happened to him.

There were too many questions running through my head.

Whose house was that? Whose drugs had we taken? Had we made a bad situation a million times worse?

Neither of us said a word as we drove back to Brooklyn. I didn’t even know what to say at this point. Ijust wanted this to all be over.

But something told me it was far from it.

*** ***

It had been four long days since Dylan and I had robbed a drug lord from Mexico who was sending his sicarios to murder us any day now. That was what I had convinced myself of.

After I’d dropped off Dylan and he’d promised he would get my money in a few days, I went straight home and made sure Dove’s and my go bags were stocked. Extra clothes, a phone charger, a flashlight, extra keys to the Buick, a knife, granola bars, and a prepaid credit card. It wasn’t much, but it would do if we had to flee in the middle of the night.

Ray was good at one thing: teaching us how not to get caught, but preparing us in case we did. Having a go bag was an old, dirty habit that I’d never gotten rid of.

And after what had just happened, I wasn’t taking any chances.

Now, I just sat and waited. Paranoia was a bitch, and I couldn’t help but look over my shoulder everywhere I went. I couldn’t get that man’s face out of my head. The way he’d pleaded and then told me to run.

There was nothing on the news about the explosion, which I found super odd. Not even one breaking news report.

Nothing.

It was like it had never happened.

Finally, I got a text from Dylan saying he would have my money tomorrow.

I wanted to believe him when he said it was all OK, but a part of me didn’t trust how that whole night had gone down. Had his president set him up?Or had Dylan used me to rob a drug dealer? I was sick of thinking about it. I just wanted to go back to my normal life, where I served drinks and took photos while fantasizing about winning the MIP grand prize.

The smell of pancakes filled the air, and I threw off my blankets. It was Friday, and the bar was closed all weekend, which wasn’t helping my lack of money situation. A tree had fallen on the roof the day before during an insane storm, and it was going to take all weekend for Drake to fix it.

I found Dove in the kitchen dancing around as she flipped a pancake. Seeing her like this warmed my heart. When I’d first brought her home from the hospital, she never wanted to leave her room, didn’t want to eat or “talk” to anyone. It had been weeks before she’d finally let me take her outside. The first time, she’d only made it to the stairwell before having a panic attack. But she was getting better each day.

“It smells so good in here.” I poured myself a cup of coffee.

She adjusted her beanie and held out her phone. “Pancakes are almost done.”

I sat down at our little table that could barely fit the two of us. “I was thinking we should do a free day since the bar is closed. What do you think?”

She stiffened for a moment before flipping another pancake over in the pan. I didn’t want to push her past her comfort level, but I also needed to get her outside more. The free therapist we’d been set up with said she needed to face her fears head on, and quickly, before she developed a more aggressive form of agoraphobia.

I understood Dove was scared that someone wasgoing to take her again. That they would snatch her right off the street and torment her. But I wasn’t going to let that happen. Over my dead body would anyone ever hurt my sister again.

“I was thinking we catch a matinee in Midtown, then there’s a tech convention just down the street, so you know what that means?”

She grinned and bit her bottom lip. “Steaks?”

“Free steaks.” I sipped my coffee.

When the twins were younger and I was a teenager, we often had what we called “free days.” Back then, they thought it was a game, not realizing how much trouble we would be in if we got caught sneaking into places without paying.

My favorite trick was strolling into upscale hotels in our bathing suits and explaining to the clerk that our parents had lost their pool passes. It worked like a charm. We would get access to not only the pool, but the lounge areas with complimentary food.

I’d pull similar schemes at business conventions in some of the larger hotels. Sometimes I’d dress up as waitstaff, other times I would get lucky and snag a name tag from the sign-in table. People would often give me strange looks, considering how young and petite I was, but no one ever questioned me. Either way, I’d always leave with my backpack stuffed full of food. At the time, it was exciting. But after Mom died, when Ray would disappear for days at a time, leaving us with no food in the house, it became more about surviving. I didn’t mind not eating for a day or two, but I couldn’t let the twins go hungry.

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