by Joe Gazzam
At the agent’s command, Mitch untied the ropes and all the Coast Guard crafts took off at once. As they slowly disappeared into the distance, the red-hot sun passed behind a thick wall of clouds, burning into it like the end of a lit cigarette.
EPILOGUE
I PEEKED THROUGH THE blinds of our kitchen window. Mitch was practicing shooting hoops one-handed in the driveway. His collarbone had mostly healed, but his right arm was still locked in a sling. Even using one hand, the ball swished through the net, hit the garage door and bounced back to him.
After weeks of being home, it still seemed bizarre to be surrounded by such normalcy. But it also felt good. I popped through the front door and walked out of the house holding two large glasses with green goop in them. I handed one to Mitch, and he dropped the ball to take it.
“Thanks,” he said.
“This stuff’s actually not horrible. You sure it’s good for me?” I asked, taking a sip.
“It’ll put hair on your chest.”
“Great. Just what every girl wants.”
Mitch guzzled nearly half the glass, then ran his free forearm across his lips. “How’s your boyfriend doing in there?”
“Boyfriend...” I repeated the word with a nod. “Still getting used to that.”
Mitch smiled. “Is he whipping us up some dinner?”
“Totally. I never pegged him as a chef, but that guy was born for it. You should see him in there. Pots boiling, pans smoking, meat and vegetables flying around. It’s like a freakin’ circus.”
“Any news from up top?” he asked. “Dad come through with his papers?”
“Yup. Andy just signed them. He is officially allowed to be here.”
Just then a car roared down the road and pulled into the driveway across the street. The BMW convertible lurched to a stop. Nora sat in the passenger seat, and Jake hung his muscular arm out the window, bobbing his head to a reverberating techno beat.
“Speaking of boyfriends,” Mitch said.
“Ahh,” I watched Jake as he pumped his fist to the music. “I really hate him. You’re so much better for her.”
“Somehow I don’t think she’s aware of that.”
“Maybe you should tell her,” I said, patting him on the back. “Dinner in ten.”
As I slipped back into the house, I couldn’t help but keep the door open just a hair. I watched through the crack to see if he’d take my advice. Mitch looked back across the street. The BMW was already backing out into the road.
Jake glared at him. “The hell you starin’ at, pissant?”
Mitch didn’t budge. Instead, he offered a big smile. “Just admiring your puka shell necklace, Bro.” Mitch gave him a hard wink. “Sweet.”
Jake scowled, held up his middle finger and floored the car away.
I was about to close the door, but Mitch noticed Nora fumbling with her keys. He set down his glass and walked slowly toward her, as if in a trance.
“Nora!” he finally blurted out.
As she turned, Mitch jogged over. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but she squinted at him, and the smile didn’t leave her face.
Then, without warning, he leaned in and kissed her. I put a hand over my mouth, probably more surprised than she was, and watched as she actually kissed him back. I smiled to myself as he sealed the deal and turned with a stupid grin on his face.
He sprinted back across the street heading straight for the house. Embarrassed I’d been spying, I closed the door quickly, trying to find something I could pretend to be doing, but he burst into the living room catching me doing nothing. He leaned against the wall and rubbed his face with his working hand.
I gave him a thumbs up, unable to hide my excitement.
“Were you watching the whole time?”
I winced. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t look away. I thought it was gonna be a train wreck, but you totally rocked it.”
“Really?”
“That was something out of a movie. Beyond good.”
“Thanks.” Mitch couldn’t shake his stupid smile.
I threw my arm around his shoulder, which made him grimace in pain. He walked with me to the kitchen, where Andy was moving from counter to counter like a whirling dervish. He ran around, stirring some things, chopping others.
“Is there anything we can do to help?” I asked.
Andy ran up and gave me a kiss. “No, no, leave the master to his work. I set the table outside. Tonight, we eat al fresco.”
As Andy shooed us away, we headed through the sliding glass doors where Dad waited by an outdoor table. He had a large bottle in his hand, and as we walked out into the yard, he popped the cork.
“Sit down you two,” he said. “I got us a little sparkling cider.”
Mitch laughed. “Ahh, nice. The hard stuff.”
We took a seat at the table and Dad poured us each a glass. Then he raised his for a toast. He took a deep breath, as if in preparation for a big, grand, emotional speech. But instead, said only two words. “To family.”
“To family,” Mitch and I said back, in unison.
“I love you guys. What you both did for me was, well...” he sighed. “Don’t ever, ever do that again.”
As we all clinked glasses and took a sip, Sasha exited the house.
“Evening, everyone,” she said, uncomfortably brushing a piece of hair back into her tight bun.
My heart stopped. She hadn’t been back since we’d returned, and it seemed almost too good to be true that we’d get off scot free for what we did.
Dad turned to me and gave me a look, as if he could read my mind. “Take it easy, Tara. We’re on the same team.” He walked forward, greeting her with a kiss, and a long hug. “So glad you came.”
After their shared moment, she moved toward the table, briefly flashing her white smile. “I guess there’s no need to be discreet,” she said, tossing a dark brown envelope in front of us.
“What’s that?” Mitch asked.
“A job,” Dad answered.
Before I could respond, Andy yelled from the kitchen. “Okay, now I could use some help. Uhhh, and rapido, por favor.”
Sasha held up her hand. “I’ve got it. We met on my way in.”
She squeezed Dad’s shoulders and headed back into the house. Mitch stared at me, then down at the envelope.
“The next extraction target?” I finally asked.
Dad nodded and shrugged. “Gotta keep the lights on.”
I couldn’t quite tell what he was thinking, but there was definite uncertainty in his eyes.
“Look, I won’t lie to you,” he filled the silence. “I do get satisfaction out of it. But it’s more than that. With all the extradition issues and rogue governments, most of these guys aren’t even hiding. These are some of the worst criminals on the planet. Murderers, arms dealers, drug kingpins. All out there, just living it up. Free as birds. Thinking they can’t be touched. We can’t let those kind of criminals just go free...”
A single word stood out to me as I listened: We.
My heart began to pound at the thought of taking on criminals together. Reliving the moment when we turned Castillo over to Doaks made my body buzz with a familiar thrill I’d come to find comfort in. It was possible, “extracting” could be our family business. Maybe all I’d learned didn’t have to go to waste. It could be my calling, give my life purpose. I could make a living doing something good.
“Only thing the FBI or the CIA can do is farm it out,” Dad continued, though I hadn’t been listening. “Throw money at the situation. Pay extractors like me,” he said and winked. “Someone’s gotta do it.”
“Wait,” I said. “How much?”
Dad looked up. “How much what?”
“Money, for each extraction. What numbers we talkin’ here?”
He laughed. “Depends how bad the bad guy is. Low six figures. Sometimes more.”
I raised my eyebrows at Mitch and followed his gaze to the brown envelope. Suddenly, we were both lunging fo
r it.
“Hey,” Dad said. “Be careful with that.”
I ripped the envelope out of Mitch’s hands. “Age before beauty.”
He rolled his eyes, then watched as I popped it open, emptied the contents and pulled out surveillance photos of the next target. I stopped breathing when I saw the face and fell back into my chair like I’d just been shot.
“What?” Dad asked.
“The target...for the next extraction job...”
“What?” Mitch insisted. “Spit it out.”
I spun the photo around so they could both see it. “It’s Mom.”
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
JOE GAZZAM was born in Baltimore, MD, grew up in Fort Lauderdale, FL and graduated from the University of Flor-ida. He’s been a working screenwriter for the last fifteen years, living in Southern California with his wife and young son. And while he loves writing for film and television, books have always been his true passion.
WWW.JOEGAZZAM.COM
JESSICA THERRIEN spent most of her life in the small town of Chilcoot, CA, high up in the SierraNevada Mountains. In this town of nearly 100 residents, with no street lights or grocery stores, there was little to do but find ways to be creative. She is the author of the #1 best-selling YA series, Children of the Gods, which has been translated and sold around the world. Jessica currently lives in Southern California with her husband and their three children.
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ALSO BY JOE GAZZAM
JASON HOLDEN HAS BEEN on thin ice since his mother died. Capping off a burglary and bar fight with a brutal car wreck, the seventeen-year-old finds himself firmly on the wrong side of the law.
His behavior isn’t winning him any points with his father, who happens to be the state governor. So when Governor Holden learns of a program for troubled youth, he jumps at the chance to deal with Jason’s outbursts while cementing his position for being tough on crime.
The program is a radical exercise designed to frighten teens from a life of crime. It’s called “Scared Straight,” and takes them into the heart of Blackenbush Maximum Security Penitentiary.
Jason, along with a group of hardened juvenile delinquents, quickly comes face to face with some of the most extreme convicts the state has ever seen. But what’s designed as an exercise becomes all too real as a prisoner take-over comes to fruition. Before long the entire penitentiary is under siege, surrounded by feds and overrun with violent lifers loose from their cells.
Jason, trapped in the middle of the chaos, will have to trust in the most unlikely person— Karl Rix, a convict with his own body count. Between them, they just might find a way to save their skin and even a bit of redemption. But at what cost?
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ALSO BY JESSICA THERRIEN
The Children of the Gods Series
The Descendants have waited long enough for freedom...
ELYSE KNOWS WHAT IT means to keep a secret. She’s been keeping secrets her whole life. Two, actually. First, that she ages five times slower than average people, so that while she looks eighteen years old, she’s closer to eighty. Second, that her blood has a mysterious power to heal. For Elyse, these things don’t make her special. They make life dangerous. After the death of her parents, she’s been careful to keep her secret as closely guarded as possible. Now, only one other person in the world knows about her age and ability. Or so she thinks. Elyse is not the only one keeping secrets. There are others like her all over the world, descendants of the very people the Greeks considered gods. She is one of them, and they have been waiting for her for a long time. Some are waiting for her to put an end to centuries of traditions that have oppressed their people under the guise of safeguarding them. Others are determined to keep her from doing just that. But for Elyse, the game is just beginning—and she’s not entirely willing to play by their rules.
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“A riveting page-turner. Jessica Therrien broke my heart into a million pieces—and then put it back together again. This book will haunt and uplift readers long after they turn the last page.”
—KAT ROSS, best-selling author of The Midnight Sea
CARRY ME HOME IS A work of fiction inspired by the true story of a teenage girl’s involvement in several Mexican gangs in San Jose and Los Angeles. The members of her crew call her, Guera, Spanish for “white girl” and it doesn’t take long for her to get lost in their world of guns and drugs.
LUCY AND RUTH ARE COUNTRY girls from a broken home. When they move to the city with their mother, leaving behind their family ranch and dead-beat father, Lucy unravels.
They run to their grandparents’ place, a trailer park mobile home in the barrio of San Jose. Lucy’s barrio friends have changed since her last visit. They’ve joined a gang called VC. They teach her to fight, to shank, to beat a person unconscious and play with guns. When things get too heavy, and lives are at stake, the three girls head for LA, seeking a better life.
But trouble always follows Lucy. She befriends the wrong people, members of another gang, and every bad choice she makes drags the family into her dangerous world.
Told from three points of view, the story follows Lucy down the rabbit hole, along with her mother and sister as they sacrifice dreams and happiness, friendships and futures. Love is waiting for all of them in LA, but pursuing a life without Lucy could mean losing her forever.
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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
A BIG THANK YOU TO Laurie and Rex Gazzam, Joe’s wife and son, as well as Brian, Matthew, J.J., and Annabelle Therrien, Jessica’s husband and children. We are both very thankful to have families who encourage and support our writing.
Many thanks to literary agents, Beth Miller and Suzie Townsend, for the kind words and brilliant advice.
And thank you READERS of our books! We’re so grateful for you.
From Jessica:
A huge thanks to my writing partner, business partner, and best friend, Holly Kammier, for EVERYTHING. What would I ever do without you? To Lacey Impellizeri for your tiny bursts of marketing wisdom and continuous support. To Kat Ross for reading and editing early drafts and providing amazing feedback. To my mom, Janet, for always reading and loving everything I write. And to my in-laws, Ron and Mary Jane, for being my constant sounding board.
