Page 74 of Chasing Sarah

The click of the door shutting echoes in my ear. The silence inside sends anxiety spiraling inside my chest.

Another ping.

“Fuck. Okay, get your shit together, Sarah. You can do this.”

I pull my phone out and quickly reply to Damien, letting him know that I’m on my way. My eyes flick toward the clock above the old stove. I’ve got an hour before I need to make the exchange.

Shoving my emotions down, I steel my spine and release a deep breath.

I’ll stop once I’ve raised enough money to prevent us from struggling.

Sometimes doing bad things for the greater good is necessary. At least in this case it is. And I’ll be damned if I risk my family losing our home when I have been given the chance for giving us a better life.

Regardless of the consequences.

* * *

“About fucking time,” Damien barks when I step into view. The orange glow of his cancer stick shines bright as he takes a drag before blowing out the toxic smoke.

“Sorry, I couldn’t get away from my brothers any sooner,” I huff, utterly spent from the run over here. Instead of answering, Damien tosses me the bag which holds the product I’m selling. I quickly swing my backpack off my shoulder and shove it inside.

Without another word, he walks away. After catching my breath, I lift my pack and head toward the drop-off location.

I can’t help but repeatedly glance at the time on my phone when I feel too much time has passed. Again, it shows only 1-2 minutes pass each time. I’m so paranoid I won’t make it back in time to be in bed before my brothers are home.

A chill runs up my spine when I arrive to the abandoned house on the opposite side of town. Tendrils of scattered vines climb up the cracked foundation. The windows are busted. The steps are damned near collapsing.

Who the hell decided this would be the meeting spot? It’s creepy as fuck.

I frown when I have yet to see any evidence of someone else being here. I’m right on time, so someone should be waiting. Dried leaves crunch beneath my feet as I trek through the overgrown lawn toward the side of the house.

No one.

No one in the backyard either.

Headlights coast down the street when I round the front of the house before coming to a stop just at the end of the driveway.

My stomach rolls and the hairs on my arms stand on end. The engine is cut off, but the lights remain lit. The muscles in my throat tighten and I swallow. When the doors to both the passenger and driver’s side open, I stand taller.

Make the exchange, then get the hell out of here.

The silhouettes of two men move to the front of the vehicle. One is built like a fucking bus. Shoulders broad and, from what I can see, a bald head. The other is lanky but tall, with an air of arrogance that wafts off him.

“We meet again, hermosa.”

Every atom in my body turns to stone.

Fuckfuckfuck.

Not this creep.

Remaining silent, I slide my backpack off my shoulder. Hands trembling, I reach inside and pull out the bag that holds the product. Standing, I yelp when I realize they’ve stepped closer, and I didn’t even hear their movements.

“No need to be scared.” His eyes are just as lifeless as I remember and it’s petrifying.

I swallow the lump in my throat. “I’m not. I just wasn’t expecting you to be so close.” I swing my backpack on, taking a small step back. He immediately tracks the movement. The smirk that lifts the corner of his mouth is spine-chilling.

The behemoth of a man says something inside and they both chuckle darkly.

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