Page 38 of Small Town Beast 2: Saverin's Duet

“My son is in a gang,” Mrs. Weaver declared. “And he’scrazy.”

Saverin pulled over to the edge of the forest. They were just a mile outside of Rowanville, on the edge of Goldsville county. The property skirted an abandoned homestead where Roman used to make deliveries for the East Coast cartel. Saverin turned off the car and braced himself. This was going to be unpleasant.

“Get her out,” he told his cousin. Crash fixed Saverin with a warning glare before helping the old lady out onto the grass. Being the most reliable and discreet of his cousins, and handy in all situations given his military background, he’d been Saverin’s number one pick for this job. Crash received the somewhat vague instructions that they were going to interrogate a thief as fair game, but upon learning that this “thief” was an elderly woman and the stolen item was in fact a human child, he’d torn a strip off Saverin and made it plain that there would be no shooting or killing or physically disheveling the suspect.

Sure. Naturally Saverin had no intention of hurting old ladies, guilty or not. Leave the thrashing, if any, to Tanya. It was her son, her Mama, and her justice. But before Tanya got a bite at that, Saverin would need to find out exactly what had happened to Amari Weaver from the horse’s mouth.

“My son will kill the both of you,” Tanya’s mother threatened. Saverin knew damn well she didn’t have a son. Only a daughter she didn’t give a shit about.

He’d found a box of Camels in the Buick. He lit one now. God, how he missed cigarettes. He was in a very bad mood.

“I recently quit,” Crash declined, when Saverin offered. Saverin paced up and down, thinking on his next move. He had to frighten the woman without actually hurting her.

“My son is coming,” Tanya’s mother blabbered to his back. “He’s gonna tear your asses up. You better just let me go before he finds out where I am.”

He turned. “You don’t have a son.”

When they had snatched her up they’d been masked. Now the hideous scarring of his face lay bare, and she saw his eyes burning with green hate. Mother Weaver recoiled.

“Right now we’re going to talk about your daughter. Tanya,” he said. “Remember Tanya?”

“T-Tanya? What about Tanya?”

“When was the last time you saw your daughter?”

“I– I haven’t seen her in weeks. What has she done this time? I had nothing to do with it!”

“What about her son, Amari?”

Mother Weaver began breathing very fast. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Remember taking him to the park? Remember driving away in a gray car? You didn’t tell Tanya that one, did you? Nor the police. You thought you got away with it. How much did you sell that little boy for?” He felt capable of anything. Tanya would never spend another night crying softly next to him, quiet, so he couldn’t hear…

“W-what do you mean?” Tanya’s mother drew herself up, clutching her beaded purse to her chest like a shield. “Are you suggesting I had something to do with Amari getting kidnapped?!”

She wasn’t much older than Tanya, Saverin judged. They looked alike– but none of the sweetness in Tanya’s face matched the bitter lines of her mother’s. Lines, yeah, but not too many. Cyrie Weaver might have been a teen mother herself when she made Tanya. Was that why she hated her daughter? Did she resent Tanya for stealing her youth? Some women were like that– his own mother had been like that…

“Where is he?” Saverin asked hoarsely. “Just tell us where you stashed the boy.”

“He was kidnapped. How the hell would I know?”

Before he knew it he’d grabbed her. Hard. Very hard. She lied, she lied, she lied…Tanya’s ownmother…Crash shoved him off and Cyrie shrank against the car and began to cry big fat crocodile tears.

“Saverin, easy. Easy. What the fuck?” Crash said, incredulous. His excoriations fell on deaf ears; Saverin’s blood ran hot as lava. He had felt the bones in her neck, how easy it would be to just…

“You gonna waste some frail old lady?” Crash raved. “What the hell is the matter with you?”

“She sold her own grandkid to some church freaks– he’sfive, for Chrissake!”

“Since when do you care?” His cousin stabbed a finger in his chest. “I thought you Baileys were all up Roman’s rear end over the harvest and the drugs or whatever the fuck. I thought you didn’t hold with peoplelike her.So who’s the kid to you?”

“I’m dating the kid’s mother. Get your damned finger off me.”

“You’re dating a black woman, Saverin?”

“You got a problem with that?”

“I don’t give two fucks.” Crash flushed. “I myself— nevermind. You got proof your girl’s old lady is the one that snatched the kid? For fuck’s sake, I thought this was some debt collection shit. Only reason I got involved was to stop you from doing something stupid.”

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