Page 68 of The Americana Playbook

My mother.

Everyone.

“I saidlet go,” I repeat. “Now.”

But he doesn’t, and you’d think I would’ve learned my lesson all those years ago, that sometimes, fighting back doesn’t get you anywhere.

Fuck. That.

I drag my feet even though we’re going down the same hallway we entered. I’m about to yell when we make it to the backdoor we came through after I parked Fitz’s Mercedes alongside Agent Samuels’s SUV.

But my voice flees, as does my courage, when in front of me, another agent opens the door to an SUV where my mother sits.

“Get in, Parker.”

Now the goon lets go of my arm, expecting me to comply. But I’ll never get in a car with my mother. It doesn’t matter that she wasn’t in the vehicle that took me that night. Shearrangedit.

Out of the corner of my eye, I find Fitz’s car where I left it, but it’s no longer flanked by my security detail. The only other SUV in the parking lot is this one, followed by two other smaller vehicles.

I shake my head. “I’m not riding with you.”

My mom’s eyes dart behind me, no doubt to make contact with the agent who dragged me out back. “You will. We have some things to discuss. The first being this ridiculous, immature behavior. Between tonight and whatever you two staged at that bar”—Mom pauses, wrinkling her face—“and the second, your engagement party.”

She nods, and from behind, I sense the agent getting closer. I go to reach for my phone. I’ll call the police. I’ll tell them I’m being taken against my will.

But when I reach into my pocket, my phone shrills, and I sense the agent’s hesitation behind me. I quickly open the call, not caring who it is. But fuck, I’m so happy it’s Fitz.

“Sorry, we were watching film and needed to finish up.”

My mother stares hard.

“Parker?” Fitz’s voice booms in silence. “Can you hear me?”

“Y-yeah. Sorry.” I clear my throat, putting the call on speaker. “I can hear you.”

There’s a beat of silence, but thankfully not a long one. “Are you alright?”

“I’m about to head home. I’m in Littleton.” I try to think of the name of the university we’re at, which I’ve seen plastered all over the last hour but suddenly can’t remember. It makes me panic more. “I’ll be… I’m about to get in the car?—"

Fitz interjects, clearly sensing my panicked rambling. “What’s going on?”

I don’t want to go with her, I nearly scream. But I can’t understand why I don’t.

“Parker?”

“I’m about to head home. Alone. Inyourcar,” I say to Fitz while looking straight at my mom, who doesn’t do much to release the intense lock of her jaw.

She just turns her head forward.

From behind me, I sense the agent backing off and stepping to the side, where he waits for me to move. I take three big steps quickly, and as soon as there’s enough space, he closes the door and hops into the passenger seat.

As soon as my mother’s motorcade drives away, I let out the last bits of air I’ve been holding onto. Each one makes a sound as it pelts from my mouth.

“Parker?” Fitz’s voice is stern and worried. “Can you give the phone to Agent Samuels?”

I back up slowly toward the building, pressing my body against the stone.

“Parker.”

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