by B. B. Hamel
I lurched my way out of the kitchen, afraid that if I spoke I’d say something I’d regret, or maybe I’d vomit, or both. He watched me leave but didn’t say a word.
I ran upstairs and slammed my bedroom door behind me, locking the handle. I didn’t know why I did that. I knew Reid wouldn’t hurt me, but suddenly he was a menacing figure in my life. He was Reid but he was also a criminal, a smuggler.
I wanted to hide. I felt like a coward. I wanted to make him quit.
As I lay in my bed staring at the ceiling, trying to get a grip, I knew that something had changed between us even more than it already had.
Chapter Fourteen: Reid
I hated the look in her eyes as she left the kitchen. That look haunted me as I finished off my beer and found where I had dropped my pack.
I didn’t want to tell Becca, but the weight of the lie was too much. I could have kept lying to my mom and Jack, but Becca deserved better. At least I wanted to give Becca better.
They always say that the truth will set you free, but in my case the truth only seemed to make things worse. Still, if she was going to be mine, it had to be for real. I couldn’t trick her into wanting me by lying about who I was and what I did to make money.
I pulled open my pack and dug down toward the bottom. The gun’s grip felt good in my hand as I pulled it out of the pack and hefted its weight. Cora had given it to me for my sixteenth birthday, back when I had started hiking for real. It was an old .38 caliber handgun, something my dad apparently used to carry around for protection from bears. I always kept it handy when I did my Canadian hikes, though I had never had to pull it out of the pack. Besides, it was shoved down at the bottom so deep that by the time I dug it out it would be too late.
I slipped the gun into my waistband and pushed out the front door. Anger and disappointment were warring for control of my emotions, but I couldn’t let myself give in to either.
There was only one option. I wanted Becca, wanted her more than I’d ever wanted something before, but I had to get out. I had no other choice.
I started the truck and drove. My mind wandered over the events of the last few days, and although I should have been absolutely exhausted, for some reason I felt awake and wired. My mind was buzzing as I headed north, away from town, with no real destination in mind. I just wanted to drive, to be moving, and to be away from Becca. I couldn’t stand staying in that house while that look still lingered in the air.
As I made a left onto a dirt road, it suddenly dawned on me where I was headed. Almost as if on autopilot, I was only about a half mile from the shitty trailer Thom called home. He was my direct link to the mob, though he was about as low level as it got. At first, I thought he had been some big shot, but as time went on it became clear that he was only involved because the Canadians needed an American dumb enough to be their fall guy in case anything went wrong on our side.
Unfortunately for Thom, he was the perfect fall guy. Trusting and stupid and loyal to a fault, he’d be willing to jump on a grenade for the mobsters, even if they continually overlooked him for promotions within their organization.
Worst of all, he didn’t make that much money, especially considering the amount of risk. As I pulled up in front of his dingy trailer, it was clear that Thom was a stooge in their whole enterprise. For a long time I felt bad for him but didn’t say anything about it, since I needed him to help facilitate the deals and to get me paid, but maybe it was time to try and push him. He had already begun to notice the changes that were happening in the mob, and maybe that would make him a little more inclined to change.
I parked the truck and waited a minute. Usually he came right out when he heard a car pull up, often drunk and almost always with a rifle. Not many people got up around his area, and that was how he liked it. But as I sat there, his trailer remained completely dark.
I climbed out of my truck and walked up to his door, pounding on the cheap tin metal. The sound vibrated through the whole rickety structure, but clearly nobody was home.
I checked the time. It wasn’t late, which meant that he was probably out getting fucked up somewhere. I didn’t feel like going home and coming back, though, so I did the only reasonable thing I could think of.
With a piece of bent chicken wire I found lying around his property, I jimmied the front door, catching the locking mechanism and yanking it free. Breaking into trailers was pretty easy since most trailers didn’t have anything worth stealing. As I pushed my way into his place, I knew Thom was no exception.
The first thing I noticed was the smell. It was dank and heavy, almost like a musk, but with a tinge of rotting garbage. It wasn’t horrible but it was pretty uncomfortable. Immediately I grabbed a window and yanked it open, hoping the outside air could clear the rank space out.
The next thing I noticed was the mess. He had dishes piled in the sink, trash all over the floor and counters, and other shit just strewn about. It looked like he had never cleaned it, not even once, and he probably didn’t even mind the stink. The trash and shit explained the smell, obviously, and it was a wonder that Thom could even survive in a place as rank as this.
I pushed through the crap and poked my head in the bedroom, just to make sure. The sheets on the bed were a tangled mess and there were more dirty dishes piled next to the bed, plus a bunch of empty beer cans thrown all over the place. Still, the bedroom was empty.
I made my way back into the main room and cleared off a spot near what was supposed to be the kitchen table but was really more like a giant ashtray and trashcan. As I looked around, it made sense why he was so protective of his shitty little trailer out in the middle of nowhere. He was probably too embarrassed of the place to let anyone see it.
I pulled the gun out of my pants and set it down on the table next to me. I made sure it was loaded and ready, though I wasn’t sure why. I had no reason to harbor any ill will toward Thom; if anything, he had come through for me time and time again. But he was my best direct link to the mob, and if someone could help me out of the mess I was in, it would have to be him.
I leaned back and crossed my arms. It was going to be a long night.
I had no clue how long I sat there in the dark thinking about what was happening, but eventually headlights spilled in through the windows from outside and I heard Thom climb out of his car.
“Who the fuck’s here?” I heard him say. He walked up to his door and rattled with the handle before pushing it open. “Who’s fucking truck is that?” he said to himself.
“Hi, Thom,” I said softly.
“What the fuck,” he shouted, nearly jumping out of his skin. “Climber?” He turned on a light and a weak yellow shine filled the room from a single overhead lamp. “How the fuck did you get in here?”
“It’s not hard to break into a trailer.”
He stared at me, clearly torn between anger and total confusion. He and I were on good terms, but those good terms could go bad real quick and he knew it. Thom may have been a stooge, but he understood how these things went, or at least he understood enough to survive in the mob for as long as he had.
His eyes drifted toward the gun I had placed conspicuously at my side, and they went wide. “What the fuck is up, Climber?” he asked.
“Just wanted to talk.”
“Why’d you bring a gun to talk?”
I smiled at him. “You know that bullshit everyone always says, Thom. It’s just for protection.”
He paused. “What do you want to talk about?”
“Come inside.”
He pulled the door shut behind him and cleared off space on the bench across from where I was sitting. He slowly lowered himself down with a slight grunt. I realized he was a little drunk.
“We’re cool, right?” he asked.
“Depends.”
“Depends on what? I thought we were cool?”
I leaned forward and every ounce of emotional weight I had been carrying on my back ever since my mother was diagnosed suddenly felt like it was a
bout to spill out of my mouth. I wanted to vomit it all over him until he understood the deep, fetid shithole that I had found myself in.
“I want out.”
He laughed. “Is that it?”
“That’s it.”
He looked confused. “You owe them some money, but you’re almost square. Just a few more runs and you’re done.”
I sighed and leaned back, shaking my head. Thom didn’t get it and probably never would. “Do you really think they’re going to let me walk?”
“Why wouldn’t they? That’s the deal.”
“Thom, you realize that I know everything about their distribution and smuggling network, right?”
“Yeah, of course you do. But you’re cool. They know that.”
“Fuck, Thom,” I said. “Are you seriously that naïve?”
He was silent for almost a minute as I stared at him. “What do you want from me?” he asked finally.
“I need out of this. It was never supposed to be long term.”
“I didn’t force you to get involved with these guys, Climber. You can’t expect me to take this shit on for you.”
“I know that. And I’m happy you helped me.” I looked around his place, frowning. “But look at the way you live.”
He laughed. “What’s wrong with this, man? This is fucking freedom.”
“This is fucking squalor.”
“So it’s a little messy.”
“How much do they pay you?”
He smirked. “It’s impolite to talk about money.”
“Seriously, man. This place is an absolute fucking dump. If they paid you what you were worth, you wouldn’t have to live here.”
“Maybe I like it here.”
“Nobody fucking likes this. People stay in shitholes because they have to.”
“It doesn’t matter what they pay me. I got side games going on. I’m hustling on my own, doing good for myself.”
“Meanwhile, you’re also taking on a lot of the risk if this smuggling business ever blows up.” I paused, letting that sink in. “And it will eventually. This can’t last forever.”
“And why would it?” He got a serious look on his face.
“I’m not threatening your operation. I’m saying that you’re not appreciated by your bosses and you don’t even realize it.”
He sighed, relaxing. “Let’s say for a second that you’re right, that maybe I’ve been thinking that same thing lately. What could I even do about it? These guys are serious shit, man. You don’t just ask for a raise.”
“You said there’s been a lot of changes going down lately.”
He nodded. “Yeah. Serious shakeup of the organization, but I’m not getting any real details.”
“Okay. So that means they’re vulnerable right now.”
“Vulnerable to what?”
I shook my head, frustrated. I had a plan in mind, but it was too soon to try to convince him of it. There were too many variables floating around, and if I tipped my hand and he decided to rat me out, everything would come toppling down around me. I needed to get him interested, but without divulging my real intentions.
“I have some ideas, but you have to trust me.”
“There’s not a lot of trust around these days, Climber.” He looked at my gun pointedly.
I picked it up from the counter. He stiffened in response. I ignored him and proceeded to open the chamber and dump out the bullets. “Better?” I asked.
“Fuck, don’t do that. I nearly shit myself.”
I laughed. “Relax. I’m on your side.”
“I don’t even know what side I’m on.”
“You’re on whatever side takes care of you.”
“And you think that’s what you can do.”
I clenched my jaw. “Fuck, Thom, look at this place. Look at your fucking life. They own you, man, and if they ever get caught, they’re going to rat on you so fast you’ll be getting ass fucked in jail before you can sneeze.”
“That’s not true,” he said softly. “I’ve been around a while. I brought you in.”
“All the more reason you shouldn’t be living like this.”
He bit his lip thoughtfully. “These are serious guys,” he said at last.
“I know. So am I.”
“If I were interested, not saying I am, but if I were, I’m not dying for this.”
I laughed. “Neither am I.”
“I got a lot of shit to do still.”
“Me too.”
“Okay. I’m not saying I’m in.”
“Think about it.”
“Fine.” He grinned at me, shaking his head. “You’re one crazy motherfucker, aren’t you, Climber?”
“Crazier than you know, man.”
I stood up, slipping the bullets into my pocket and tucking the gun into my waistband. I pushed out his door and walked out toward my truck. I heard him follow me to the front door.
“What’s to stop me from telling them?” he called out.
I turned back. He was standing there, a cocky grin on his face, his arms crossed. I covered the distance between us quickly and, before he could even wipe that stupid look off his face, punched him once in the jaw. He stumbled backward, clutching his face.
“Don’t ever say that again,” I said.
“Fuck you, man. I was just saying.”
“They’d kill me and they’d kill you too for even listening to me. Don’t ever think about fucking ratting on me, Thom.”
He looked at me, rubbing his jaw. Rage flew through my veins and I wanted to take out every frustration on his stupid, idiotic face, make him bleed for me. But I knew that I needed his connections if I had any shot at getting out of my situation alive, and I needed him. I could push Thom, but I couldn’t push him too far. Punching him was probably not the best move, but I couldn’t abide that sort of bullshit from him. I had to make sure he was down.
“I was just saying,” he muttered.
“This is for real. This is life or death shit now. You don’t want in, fine, you don’t want in. But don’t get me killed because you’re a coward.”
“I’m not a coward.”
“Good. Keep your fucking mouth shut.”
I turned and left him standing there. I climbed into my truck and started the engine. He watched me as I pulled off his property, back down the dirt path. As soon as I was a few feet away, the night swallowed him again, and I was headed back home.
I didn’t want to see Becca. Not with the adrenaline flowing through my veins, the angry confusion still holding on to me. But I’d put my mom through enough shit for one weekend and had to show up at home, at least so she knew that I hadn’t been killed by a bear.
My problems weren’t solved, but I was starting to get to work. Becca might come around, or she might not.
But either way I was going to be ready for her when she figured out that she couldn’t live without my hard cock.
Chapter Fifteen: Rebecca
His words kept ringing in my ears. I’ve been smuggling drugs from Canada for the mob.
My stepbrother the drug smuggler.
I didn’t know what to do with that information. All night long I kept imagining him behind bars, locked up because he got caught bringing drugs into the country.
Worse, I kept imagining all the people who were hooked on the drugs he was responsible for.
And yet he had good reasons. I wasn’t around for all that time. I was too busy out at school to really help out. When it came down to it, Reid had stayed behind, had given up his promising climbing career, and had continued to sacrifice for his family.
But what a sacrifice. Was that really his only option?
Reid was a drug smuggler. He worked with gangsters. He helped pay for his mother’s cancer treatment with drug money. He was partly responsible for the drugs that were flooding into Ridgewood.
Despite the lies and the danger and everything else, all I could think about was his strong hands on my hips, his dick slipping deep between my l
egs as he fucked me in the deep forest. My heart practically fluttered every time I so much as thought his name.
I slipped out of the house early the next morning and went to work, my mind a distracted daze of conflicted emotions. The Blue was as good a place as any to try to forget as I bustled between tables during the busy day shift.
Part of me was worried that I’d run into Reid, but he didn’t show up. I didn’t know what I would do if he did. I was totally shocked when he first told me, but as time went by I found that I wasn’t totally angry with him.
Because I had no right to be angry. I was the one that left the family, even though Cora had made it clear that she wanted me to graduate.
Reid had stepped up. Reid had put himself in danger in order to help the people that he loved.
Still, it was a huge shock. And he had been lying to everyone for a long time.
The morning slipped by like sand through my fingers, one table turning into the next, and I floated through it all on autopilot. Really, the only thing I could concentrate on was what Reid said to me the night before.
And the look on his face. Almost empty, blank, like he didn’t care about what he was saying. Like he was resigned to being whatever it was the smuggling made him.
As I began to wind down my shift, finishing up my last tables, I looked around the diner. Lindsey had just walked in and was heading into the back. I walked quickly to intercept her.
“Hey, Lindsey,” I called out.
She stopped. “What’s up, Becca?”
“Can I talk to you?”
“Sure. I was just coming in to get ready.”
“I’ll be off in ten.”
She looked a little confused. “Okay, sure.”
I turned on my heel and walked away. I wasn’t sure how I felt about her, and I wasn’t ready to talk about Reid’s smuggling right there in the middle of the floor.
