Page 82 of Until Forever

“Where are they?” I rush him with my fist clenched.

“Like I’m ’pose to know who you’re talkin’ ’bout.” He grunts and tries to stand, only to fall back in his seat.

“My son,” I yell.

He frowns. “Your son,” he mocks. “So you finally met the little bastard?”

Before I realize what I’m doing, I’m in his face with the collar of his shirt in my grasp. “Where is he?”

He slaps my hands away. “How will I know? Never even met him.”

“Those men who came to see you.” I breathe in. “The ones from the hospital who undoubtedly caused that bruise on your face…they took my kid.”

He slumps into his seat, a grave expression tugging at his lips. It catches me off guard to see even an inkling of an indication that he cares about something. But I push the thought away just as fast as it comes.

Nicolas drops his head, his eyes shutting at the same time. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Spare me the fake feelings, okay. Every minute I waste in here with you, my son is in danger. So if you know something, you’re going to tell me.”

“Why would they take him?” His tone is different now, not nearly as aggressive and hostile as it normally is.

“Because of you. Whatever deal you backed out on with them, they came to me. And when I didn’t pay them, they took my kid.”

“I’m so sorry, son.”

“Don’t call me that. You’ve made it very clear since the moment I was born that I mean nothing to you. So don’t pretend you care. Just tell me what you know.”

“I don’t know anything. And I wouldn’t want no kid hurt. How was I ’pose to know they’d go after him?”

“So you didn’t tell them about me? Because they sure as shit seemed to think that I would pay your debts.”

“I ain’t tell ’em nothing. Especially ’bout ya boy. I wouldn’t do that.”

I scrub my hand over my face to keep from exploding. “What do they want?”

“I owe them money. A lot of it.”

“Of course you do,” I scoff.

“I was in a bind and placed a bet I couldn’t deliver on. But I never told them about you, or your son.”

“You have to know where they are?”

He’s quiet now, and by the way he tucks his chin to keep from meeting my stare, I sense he knows more than he’s telling me. I hover over him, gripping either side of the armrest, glaring into him.

“Tell me what you know. Who are these guys?”

“They’re new to town, been here a few years. They’re dangerous. Anything you can think of they have their hands in, drugs, running numbers, bets, girls.”

“Where can I find them?”

“So you can do what? It’s a gang of ’em, and you’re one person.”

“Don’t underestimate me.”

“I don’t know where they are exactly. But I meet them at the old warehouses on the edge of town.”

I jut my head in his direction then walk toward the door.

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