Chapter 39
THIRTY-NINE
SILAS
FIFTEEN YEARS OLD
His dad returned the next week just like he promised, the rumble of his truck again lifting the hairs at the back of Silas’s neck.
Yeah, he still wanted to punch him in the face, but there was some dark place inside him that was eager for what he had.
Silas figured he owed it. That every dollar the jerk ever made should be given to Silas’s mom. She was the one who had earned it. Worked and toiled to put a roof over their heads when this scumbag never gave a crap.
“There’s my boy.” His voice clawed at Silas’s ear, though he still turned to look at his father through the open passenger window. His dad leaned across the seat with another bag.
Silas eyed it warily while his tongue salivated. He had the urge to snatch it out of his hand.
“Told you I’d be back,” he said with a grin. Silas couldn’t tell if it was affable or malicious.
Silas took the bag, his heart beating fast, the sun shining down hard and sweat slicking his flesh when he peeked inside and saw there was even more money in there that time.
“You’re gonna have to earn the next one,” his dad said.
Silas’s stomach dropped to the ground. “And how am I going to do that?”
“You’re gonna meet me at the back door of Keg & Creek Tavern at midnight. And you don’t tell your momma.”
It was easy. He didn’t have to do a whole lot.
Take the backpack that was always hidden in the overgrown brush along the river and run it through the cover of the woods to the back of Keg & Creek.
Take the bag that was waiting for him there and run it back to the same spot.
Shove it into the hole near the bank and cover it with branches and leaves.
There’d be an envelope just for him in the side pocket, one that he’d split the contents of with his dad back where he always waited at the end of the road.
He didn’t even have to see the guys who were in a boat on the river who came for it, the sound of the garbled boat engine only hitting his ears after he disappeared back into the forest.
Yeah, he knew what was in those bags. He might have been an idiot for doing this, but he wasn’t a moron.
But it was hard to care when he’d seen the weight sliding off his mother’s shoulders. The bags under her eyes not so deep.
He was halfway through the woods when he heard the telltale sound of the muted boat engine, one that idled in the place it sought every three nights.
Out of breath, he paused beneath the glow of the moon, his mind spinning and his stomach sour.
He set his hand over his heart where it beat.
Knowing whatever the cost, it was worth it.