Page 4 of Hush (Fighting Fate)

“About fucking time!” TJ mumbled.

He called to Mac to answer it, and a minute later a scrawny, dirty haired guy, about the same age as me wandered into the room, followed closely by Mac. He looked a bit frazzled, but then again, that was how he looked every time I saw him.

TJ didn’t bother trying to hide the fact that he was pissed off. He just cocked his gun and pointed it straight at him. “I fucking HATE waiting for people, Tom! Didn’t I tell you that the first time you came here?”

Tom’s eyes widened a fraction but he otherwise remained the same. “Sorry, TJ. I thought I was being followed. I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t leading anyone here.”

TJ glowered at him for a few more minutes, but even he couldn’t fault him for that. “Just give Mac the fucking bag!”

Tom passed Mac a large brown bag – a bag I knew belonged to the middle-aged business man Tom worked for, and sank down onto the couch. He immediately proceeded to light a joint while he waited. TJ shook his head at him before following Mac into the kitchen.

Ken was the only buyer of TJ’s who knew where The Den was. I wasn’t sure why that was. I’d heard it had something to do with Ken helping TJ stay out of jail when he was younger, but that was only hearsay.

Sitting back, I took a long drag on my joint and blew the smoke out slowly. Usually I would help Mac bag the drugs Tom was there to collect, but we’d already done it earlier that day.

Falling into a languid state, I allowed my mind to drift back to my real life, the one I was hoping to get back to real soon. I didn’t allow myself to think about it very often. That would be an occupational hazard, but I had to do it every now and again just so I wouldn’t forget who I was. I refused to allow myself to turn into anything like any of these fucked up people.

Funnily enough, the world of drug dealers, rapists and murderers was my reward for graduating the police academy with honors. Some fucking reward, huh? But at the time I did feel honored. Growing up with a detective for a dad, as well as two brothers who also worked in emergency services, it was a natural move for me to go into the police academy. I wanted to catch the bad guys, just like my dad did.

The undercover job was offered to me because apparently it was common knowledge TJ only took young guys into his gang, and I fit the profile perfectly.

It took me six months to work up enough credits with the guy for him to induct me into his gang, and the initiation was far from pleasant, but here I was, eighteen months into my job – eighteen months since I last saw any of my family, and I was doing everything I could to bring it all to an end. I’d had enough. I wanted out. I just needed TJ to trust me so I could find out the set up for the next big delivery. If we could just get TJ’s supplier, this whole operation would go down, and I could go back to my normal life.

I just hoped I could last until then.

Chapter 3

Kaeli

I came home to raised voices.

After what had happened that morning, my heart immediately jumped into panic mode. Stepping wearily into the lounge room, I found Ken and my loser step brother, Aaron, having some kind of face off over the coffee table.

The second they both spun on me, their gazes dark and feral, I regretted my decision to interrupt.

“Where’s Mom?” I asked.

Ken’s eyes narrowed. “She’s gone shopping.”

I exhaled with relief and turned, ready to make a quick escape.

Aaron spun back on his father. “I’m not going. Make Kaeli go! I’m sure they’d appreciate her a lot more anyway.”

I froze on the first step and looked back at them. Getting in the middle of their problems was the last thing I wanted to do. Aaron was oozing anger, looking between me and his father, and Ken was practically livid.

I watched Ken’s gaze turn from feral to calculatingly malicious. I’d seen that look a few times before, and the aftermath was never good. I was petrified to the spot.

“Do what?” I asked hesitantly.

Ken just continued staring at me, considering whether he wanted me to do this ‘thing’ or not. I was just about to ask again, when his lips curled up into a snide grin.

“Hmmm…I think you might be right, Aaron,” he said. “This could work in our favor.”

“What do you want me to do?” I asked again, this time a little more forceful.

He wasn’t looking at me anymore. He’d begun bustling around near the lounge, arranging a bag of some sort.

“You’re going to go pick something up for me,” he said, not bothering to turn around.

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