Page 138 of You Had Me At Thirteen

At ten minutes to twelve, I pull up to the meet spot and put the car into park. With the headlights on, I’ll see anyone coming at me from the front, so I grab the bag of money from the back seat and climb out of the car.

Five minutes pass before I see another set of headlights. The car slows, its tyres crunching over the gravel, and stops about fifteen metres away from me before the headlights turn off.

The driver’s side door opens and a figure steps out. All the air is sucked from my lungs when I see it’s my dad. I push off the bonnet of my car, my shadow splitting the light from the headlights down the middle. As he moves towards me, his head hanging, he avoids my eyes.

Gutless piece of shit.

My muscles tense when he gets about three metres in front of me, but he holds his hands up in front of him as if to show he’s no threat.

‘Hi, son,’ he says, finally looking at me. He looks like he’s been through a meat grinder, his face and clothes covered in blood.

‘Where’s Matilda?’ I step closer to him and he stills, his eyes searching my face.

‘She’s fine.’ He nods towards the car. ‘She’s in the car.’

‘I want to see her.’

‘I know you do, but if you hand me the money first, I’ll get her.’ Dad reaches for the bag in my hand, but I put it behind my back.

‘No fucking way. You bring her out. Now.’ I grip the handles of the bag, clenching my teeth. Bastard.

‘Okay.’ Dad backs away a couple of steps. ‘Let’s just keep it calm,’ he says as he continues to walk backwards towards the car.

Does he think I’m going to attack him? I fucking should, but I won’t, not while they still have Matilda.

I can’t hear what he’s saying, but dad’s hands fly around in front of his face as he speaks. After a minute, the passenger door opens before Eli steps out and opens one of the back doors.

Three figures stand at the car now, one holding onto my girl while he holds a gun to her head.

Motherfucker.

I’m on edge, my muscles twitching as my blood pounds in my ears. The need to dominate this situation has me unable to focus on what I need to do. I’ve felt anger before, but this is something different.

The adrenaline flowing through my veins right now is animalistic. So when my dad steps forward again, my first instinct is to wrap my hands around his neck and squeeze until the blood drains from his traitorous face.

It’s only when he motions to Matilda that I take a deep breath. ‘See, son, she’s fine.’

I scan her body. She’s still wearing her school uniform, the white shirt now covered in blood, and from what I can make out, she has a black eye and busted lip. She squints and throws her hands up in front of eyes as the lights from my car blind her.

‘Wren?’ Her voice cracks on a sob.

‘It’s okay, baby, I’m here.’ My voice comes out much calmer than I feel, but I need Matilda to know I’ve got this handled and she’s safe now.

Her body shakes when Eli shoves her in the back, his hand wrapped in her hair as he points the gun at me.

‘Do you have my money, Wren?’ He points the gun at Matilda’s head again, sending her collapsing into the dirt. ‘Get up, bitch, or I’ll fucking shoot you.’

Matilda struggles to her feet, her sobs coming harder when Eli grips her ponytail again and tugs her head back.

I take another deep breath, trying to keep my focus on the piece of shit behind my girl. ‘I have your money. Now give me Matilda, and you can have it.’

‘You’ll get your foul-mouthed bitch when you hand that money over.’ Eli nods to my dad. ‘Steve, get the money you owe me.’

My dad comes forward, his hands up in front of him. ‘It’s okay, son.’

Does he really think his apparent display of innocence will stop me from snapping every one of his fucking fingers?

Unbelievable.

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