“Give me your coordinates, Dad, and I’ll get help out to you.”
He rattles off some coordinates and I scribble them down before grabbing the phone and dialing nine-one-one. I relay all the information to the operator before setting the phone down and grabbing the microphone again.
“Okay, Dad. Help is on the way.”
“Listen to me, Linc,” he says, his voice growing weaker and chills blanket my skin. “They’re not going to make it in time.”
I recoil, staring down at the microphone in my hand with wide eyes before I press the button. “What are you talking about? They’re coming right now. You’ve just got to hang on.”
“I need you to listen, son. I’m losing a lot of blood and I’m pretty sure I nicked an artery in my leg. The crash site is fifteen miles out of town, at least. This is a body recovery, not a rescue.”
“Don’t say that,” I hiss, tears burning my eyes. “Just hang on.”
“Lincoln,” he whispers, his voice trailing off at the end and my heart seizes.
“Dad!”
“I’m still here.” His voice is even weaker than before and it hits me all at once, crashing down on me like an avalanche that this is the last time I’m ever going to speak to my father. Tears slips down my cheeks and I rest my head in my hand, struggling to breathe. I’m not ready for this. I’m only fifteen – how the hell am I supposed to go on without my dad? And Mom… Oh, God. I have to call Mom and tell her what’s happening.
“Do me a favor, Kid?” he asks and I nod.
“Yeah, Dad. Anything.”
“Take care of your mom and sisters for me, okay? You’re all they have left now and they need you.”
A sob rips its way through my lips and I pound my fist into the desk. Why? Why is this happening to him? To our family?
“I will. I promise.” My voice cracks and I flick a few tears off my face.
“And tell them all how much I love them. If there was anyway out of this, I would be there with you all.”
“I’ll tell them.”
“Good. It’s time to be the man I’ve been raising you to be. I know it’s not fair but you’ve already made me so proud, Lincoln. This is just the hand we’ve been dealt and I know I can count on you to step up.”
“I won’t let you down.”
The silence stretches between us and my chest feels tight, my mind screaming as I wait for him to respond to me.
“I know you won’t. You’re a good kid and an even better son. Never forget how much I love you.”
“I love you, too, Dad,” I whisper, praying for more time but the only response is a haunting static.
Chapter One
Tatum
A crash echoes through the empty streets and my heart slams into my ribs as I squint into the darkness, searching for any sign of danger. I quicken my steps when I find nothing. I would much prefer if the danger just jumped out at me because then, I could deal with it. The unknown drives me crazy. Ducking my head, I press onward and flex my fingers around the can of pepper spray in my hand. My pulse pounds in my ears and I suck in a breath, reminding myself that I only have one more block to go. One more block and I’ll be home, safe and sound… or as safe as you can be in this part of town. There was a time, before I ever lived here, that this neighborhood was a desired place to live but drugs and crime started creeping in and everyone else left, dropping the property value. The only people left are the folks like me who can’t afford to move anywhere else.
Thunder rumbles in the distance and I smile, lifting my face to the sky to breathe in the scent of rain temporarily masking the stench of stale beer and cigarettes that usually lingers in the air. A breeze blows through my hair and I consider opening the windows as soon as I get home so the fresh rain smell can fill my little apartment. I wouldn’t even entertain the idea if I didn’t live on the third floor of my building. Plus, the landlord hasn’t fixed the fire escapes yet so anyone that tries to climb it will go crashing to their death before they reach me.
A car alarm wails behind me and I jump as I glance over my shoulder, my pulse spiking. The dark street at my back only intensifies the sense of foreboding that I’ve been carrying around all night. God, why can’t I shake this feeling? My mother’s voice pierces through my thoughts, once again nagging me to pack up and move somewhere safer. That’s easy for her to say, though. Apartments in a nice part of town cost money and with the two jobs I already have, I’m barely making it. I just have to keep telling myself that someday all this struggle will pay off. I will finally save enough money to go to school and become a nurse, someday I’ll make enough money to buy a house in a better part of town and then, all the shit I’m going through now will be a distant memory.
Hopefully.
Relief surges through me as my apartment building comes into view and I jog over to the door, eager to get inside and collapse into a heap on my bed. When I reach the door, I duck inside and check my mailbox before turning for the stairs. I take them two at a time, always keeping an eye on my surroundings as I march down the hallway with my head held high. One of the first things I learned when I moved here was that if you looked scared, people would only mess with you more so even when I’m feeling weak, I keep my head up and try to look as badass as I wish I felt. The light above me flickers as I stop at my door and jam my key into the first deadbolt and I blow out a breath, sending up a silent prayer to God or whatever deity is watching out for me that I don’t get killed tonight. A shiver twists down my spine and I shake my head as I move to unlock the second deadbolt. Maybe my mother is right. What good will my sacrifices do if I don’t live long enough to realize my dream?
Once inside, I shut the door and relock both deadbolts before securing the chain and turning with a sigh, letting the sense of security wash over me. I drop my keys onto the table with a clank and survey my small apartment, making sure everything is exactly as I left it earlier. There’s a bowl next to the sink from my breakfast and the small pile of bills are stacked neatly on the dining room table – so far, so good. A blanket is strewn over the back of the couch from where I was watching a movie last night and as I scan over to the TV, I stop. The curtains are open and for the life of me, I can’t remember if I left them closed or not. Squinting my eyes closed, I picture the living room last night as I got ready for bed but I still can’t recall what position the curtains were in. My heart races as I scan the apartment again but it’s silent and I shake my head as I blow out a breath.
This is ridiculous.
I’m a grown woman but I still play this stupid game that Mom made my twin brother, Theo, and I play every time we came back to wherever we were staying at the time. I can’t help it, though. After all these years, she’s trained me to notice every little thing and be hyper focused on my surroundings. In some ways, it’s nice, especially as a woman living alone but right now, when I’m so tired I could just fall over right here and I can’t remember how I left the damn curtains, it’s a damn inconvenience.
Sighing, I push off the door and drag my tired body to the bedroom, still focused on everything around me no matter how stupid I think it is. In my bedroom, I plop down on the mattress and kick my shoes off, groaning at the ache that radiates up my calves. When my friend, Mia, called me yesterday and asked me to cover her shift at the diner, I jumped at the opportunity to make some more money but after sixteen hours on my feet, I’m not sure that it’s worth it. It’s not unusual to get home from a shift with every part of my body aching and sometimes, it feels like I’m killing myself and not getting anywhere.