Page 79 of More Than Nothing
“Fucking A, Elephant!” Tyson held up his palm and Elenie high-fived him as she passed the couch. It was a strange moment.
Roman had nailed it.
And soon, she had the first indication that his plan was having the desired effect when Frank caught her in the entryway on Tuesday evening.
“I need you to do a job with Dean.”
“Tonight?” Elenie frowned. She’d been thinking of heading to bed early.
“Yes, tonight! Got something better on?” Frank crossed to the bottom of the stairs and bellowed Dean’s name.
Answering rhetorical questions would definitely not be in her best interests. “What is it?”
“There’s a package to pick up in Saginaw. I don’t want Dean to go on his own.”
“You’re kidding.” That was nearly a two-hour drive away; it would be well after midnight before they’d get back. But it was a great opportunity to gather information.
Frank ignored her. Rummaging through the messy drawers of an old cabinet, he pulled out a padlock with a key in it and stuffed it into one of his pockets.
Dean’s footsteps thumped down the stairs.
“You ready?” Frank asked.
“Just need something to eat,” Dean grunted, heading for the kitchen.
“Why can’t Ty go with him? Or Athena?” Elenie hesitated to poke the bear but knew Frank would expect some kind of protest. “I have work tomorrow.”
Her stepdad took two slow strides toward her. With a wall behind her, Elenie had no option but to hold her ground. Lifting his hand to bunch the hair at the nape of her neck, Frank tugged her head back to stare down into her face.
“Either you’re in or you’re out, Ellie.” His hot breath fell on her cheek; her heart jumped in her chest. “Are you fuckin’ in? Or are you fuckin’ out?”
Elenie nodded as best she could. “I’m in.” Her voice cracked.
Dean loped out of the kitchen, a folded piece of bread held in one hand, nothing inside it. His mouth was full of something else and he chewed messily, noisily, wiping crumbs from his lips on the arm of his sleeve.
“I’ll just grab a hoodie.” She ran up the stairs without waiting for a reply.
Five minutes later, they were pulling off the drive in Frank’s truck. Elenie’s small backpack was by her feet, Roman’s phone tucked into an inside zipped pocket. She didn’t dare carry the DEA cell, too. That was hidden, with the other gadgets Dorsey had given her, inside a box of tampons on a shelf in her closet.
“Let’s go, Road Trip Ho!” Dean snickered at his own wit.
It was going to be a long night.
“Where’s Ty?” she asked.
“Him and Dad have gotten another job.”
“And Athena?”
“Pissed.” Dean leaned forward to fiddle with the radio.
“Why aren’t we taking your car?”
“Gearbox is fucked.” He found a station that suited him, cranked up the volume, and drummed along to the music with a rhythmless tattoo on the steering wheel.
Frank’s Dodge was pretty luxurious, with plush seats and multi-speaker surround sound. Elenie propped her feet on the dash and leaned her head against the window. Dean fidgeted, smoked, chewed gum, and grumbled, but his eyes looked focused and he stuck somewhere around the speed limit.
“What are we picking up?” she asked. The air conditioning raised the hairs on her arms and legs. She turned it down. Dean turned it back up.
