Page 61 of Reckless At Raleigh High
The sound of the gunshots splinter the air apart. My mouth hanging open, I twist, watching as the truck tears past us, two massive bullet holes blistering the paintwork of the rear passenger door. I’m fear personified as I wait for the truck to come to a stop…
But it keeps on going.
Rocking wildly as it performs a wide turn, the truck narrowly misses a parked Prius as it peels out of the hospital parking lot, back the way it came.
Holy…fucking…shit.
I lean forward, pressing my chest up against the steering wheel, suddenly incapable of holding myself upright.
“Silver. Hey, open the door, kiddo. It’s okay, he’s gone.” Dad raps on the window, peering anxiously in at me. It takes a second to wrangle my limbs into some sort of order. They don’t seem to want to do as they’re told. The moment I’ve unlocked the door, Dad’s there, helping me out of the Nova, pulling me into a bone-crushing hug.
“Youshotat him,” I say breathlessly. “You, like, reallyshotat him.”
“I know. I know. Come on, come here and sit for a second. You’re trembling.” He’s still holding the gun in his hand. I feel the coolness of the weapon’s unforgiving steel against the back of my neck as Dad guides me to the back of the van, opening up the back door so I can sit on the trunk’s ledge.
“That motherfucker’s pulled his final stunt,” Dad seethes, flustering over me, tucking my hair behind my ears, out of my face. “I’m gonna fuckingkillhim.”
“Sorry to interrupt, friends.”
Dad and I both jump, startled at the voice that speaks behind us. I’m teetering on the brink of a heart attack when I look around, and there, leaning up against the Nova in the bruised purple dusk, is the guy who gave me his business card, Dr. Romera’s boyfriend, the guy Alex named Zeth.
Oh…fuck.
He might not be wearing a suit and a tie, but he looks every inch the mafia kingpin as he coolly assesses us with dark, intelligent, albeit emotionless eyes. “I’m in the market for a weapon,” he says airily. “That one looks pretty average but I’m not picky.”
Dad stiffens, glancing down at the gun in his hand. “What the hell are you talking about? I’m not giving you my g—”
Zeth pushes away from the car, taking a casual step toward us. “Registered, is it?”
Dad’s face pales. Oh lord, he never registered his gun? Is that thing evenhis? It looks like the one he used to keep in a shoebox in his closet, but then again I only really saw it in stolen peeks through the cracked lid of a shoe box.
“You just shoot that thing at a moving vehicle in a public parking lot,” Zeth muses, running his tongue over his teeth. “The powers that be don’t tend to like that kind of shit. An’ I’m betting they’re on their way here as we speak. I suspect I might be doing you a favor by taking it off your hands, Cameron.”
Dad narrows his eyes suspiciously at the guy. “How do you know my name?”
Zeth huffs in a bored manner, staring off into the dark stretch of forest on the other side of the parking lot. “Better for you if you just hand it over, friend. I’d hate to have to take it from you.”
A knot of worry tightens in my stomach. “Give it to him.”
“Silver—”
“Just give him the gun, Dad. Please. Let’s get rid of it and get the hell out of here.”
Dad looks at me like I’ve lost my fucking mind, but he gingerly steps forward and hands over the weapon, placing it in Zeth’s outstretched hand. “Good man. Now get your daughter home before five-oh shows up.”
Dad stabs his finger after the truck. “That bastard was trying to hurt her. We need to report that to the police.”
A terrifying smile spreads across Zeth’s face. “I think you’re better off leaving that matter in my hands, too. Don’t you think, Silver?”
I say nothing. But as we drive away, Dad following closely behind me, chattering incessantly on the phone to keep me occupied, I think it to myself:
Yeah. Maybe the whole Jacob situation would be better off being dealt with by a man like Zeth.
31
ALEX
The sound of shattering glass fills the air.
