6. Riley
A loud bangingsound drags me out of a deep sleep.
My eyes snap open, but it takes me a second to make sense of anything as I sit upright in bed, my eyes darting to the clock.
Eight in the morning?
“Jesus,” I mutter, squeezing my eyes closed again and rubbing my temples with a groan. With the hours I work, this is definitely not a time of day when I’m ready to deal with anything at all.
But the banging on our front door doesn’t let up, so I guess I’ve got no choice.
I roll out of bed and shake off the last dregs of a dream I don’t really remember, still feeling a little disoriented. Fortunately, adrenaline helps me feel more alert by the time I wrap a robe around myself and make it out to the living room.
Alert… and wary. There’s no way that kind of ruckus means anything good, especially not in our neighborhood.
“What is it?” Chloe mumbles, emerging from her bedroom with a yawn.
I let my hand hover over the top deadbolt as I check the peephole.
“It’s Frank,” I mutter, not entirely surprised. Our dad’s a worthless asshole who doesn’t deserve the title of parent, but he can also be persistent as hell when he thinks he’ll be able to squeeze something out of someone.
I grimace. His face is sweaty and his eyes look a little panicked, so this will be about as fun as getting a Brazilian.
“Are you going to let him in?” Chloe asks, hovering behind me.
I can’t tell if she wants me to or not, probably because she hasn’t made her mind up about it herself. It’s one of the many reasons I had to get her out of his house and have made sure we have as little contact with him as possible ever since. Chloe knows he’s a deadbeat, but her heart is too big, too hopeful.
Frank doesn’t deserve it… but he’s always happy to take advantage of it.
“Riley? Chloe?” he calls out before I can decide whether to tell him to fuck off through the door or let him in so I can say it to his face. “You girls home?”
Without giving me a chance to answer, he starts pounding on the door again.
“Guess I am,” I tell Chloe, rolling my eyes as I start opening the locks. Letting him stay out in the hall causing a ruckus is likely to attract more problems than it will solve.
I finally fling the door open, and he stumbles forward mid-knock, grunting as he catches himself on the doorframe.
I glare at him, but his eyes dart right past me and settle on Chloe.
“Hey, little girl,” he wheezes, giving her a sickly smile and wiping at the sweat beading on his forehead with a nasty-looking handkerchief he pulls from his pocket.
“Hi, Dad,” Chloe answers, crossing her arms over her chest and shrinking away from him.
That does it. My protective instinct surges inside me, and I step between them, cutting off his view of her.
“Get the hell out of here, Frank,” I demand. “I told you the other night to leave us alone.”
“Oh, come on now,” he says, running a hand over his stringy dark hair. “Don’t be that way. Can’t I visit my two favorite girls once in a while?”
“If by visit, you mean stop by to pull your usual crap, then no.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” he insists, his eyes darting to Chloe.
He knows just as well as I do that she’s the easier mark, and he’s right, because she instantly caves.
“What are you doing here, Dad?” she asks. “Is everything okay?”
“’Course it is, ’course it is.” He pulls out the stained handkerchief again and dabs at his face. “I just, uh… just wanted to see how life is treating you two. School out for the summer yet, Chlo?”
She shrugs one shoulder and shakes her head. She’s got a few weeks left, and she knows just as well as I do that he doesn’t actually give a shit. The only thing he’s accomplished by asking her for a piece of information he should’ve already known is to prove what a bad father he is.
He glances back over his shoulder, then shuffles a few more feet into the apartment. “And how about you, Riley? Got any, uh, plans for the summer?”
What I’ve got is zero patience for this bullshit, and the antsy way he’s acting is setting my teeth on edge.
“Did you miss the part where I told you to leave?” I ask coolly. “I don’t care what kind of trouble you’ve gotten yourself into this time. You’re not welcome here.”
He laughs nervously, as if any part of what I just said was a joke.
Chloe takes a step sideways so that she can see him again. “What about you, Dad? Are you still, um, what was it? Something about selling car parts?”
He grimaces, although it might have been meant as a smile, and waves a hand in the air. “Yeah, no, uh, the import-export thing, it… well, guess you could say it sort of fell through.” He clears his throat and glances back over his shoulder again. “I’ve moved on. Am moving on. Er, trying to.”
“Oh? To what?” my sister asks.
Frank starts spinning some bullshit answer, and I roll my eyes. Whatever pie he’s got his fingers in now, it’s pretty much guaranteed to “fall through” just like his little chop shop did. Probably because he’s always too busy trying to figure out how to score a quick buck to actually work for a living.
I’m done waiting for him to get to the inevitable point. In fact, the way he hasn’t gotten to the point yet is starting to give me a bad feeling. That, and the fact that he’s still sweating.
Whatever’s got him so nervous, I want no part of it.
“We don’t care,” I interrupt, cutting him off mid-sentence. “And like I said, it’s time for you to leave.”
This apartment may not be much, but it’s the home I’ve made for Chloe and me. Our safe space. And I’ll be damned if I let him ruin that.
“Well now, I can’t… can’t do that yet,” he says, swallowing hard. He glances over his shoulder again, looking strung out and haunted. “I’m sorry.”
The heavy sound of footsteps filters in from the hallway outside, and I grimace. The last thing I want to do is air our dirty laundry in front of the other tenants in our shitty building, so I grab Frank’s arm and push him bodily toward the door.
“Get out,” I hiss. “Now.”
“I’m sorry,” he repeats, whining and stinking of sweat as he grabs onto the doorjamb and resists when I try to shove him through it. “I had no choice. I got… I got in too far over my head.”
“Not our problem.”
Frank swallows. “You gotta understand, I couldn’t come up with the money any other way. They were gonna kill me, Riley.”
As he finishes speaking, a small group of men appear in the doorway behind him… and my breath catches as I realize that they’re all armed.
“Riley?” Chloe says from behind me, sounding just as scared as I’m suddenly feeling.
The newcomers push Frank aside and then brush right past me as they barge into our apartment.
The last one inside is a man with dark, slicked-back hair, hazel eyes, and a long, straight nose. There’s a cruel twist to his lips as his gaze flicks around the room, and he grabs my arm in a bruising hold, then turns toward Frank. “This Chloe?”
Ice fills my veins. Fuck.
“Yes,” I lie at the same time that Frank proves exactly how spineless he is by pointing to my sister.
“No, Chloe is that one,” he mutters.
The low-browed brute standing next to her yanks her against his side with a leer.
She screams, and the sound cuts right through me. I twist out of the tight hold the dark-haired man has on me and lunge toward Chloe.
But before I can reach her, the man who’s holding her draws his gun in a smooth motion. He points it at my head, and the sound of the safety clicking off makes my footsteps stutter, freezing me in place.
I stare down into the little round hole at the end of the barrel, my pulse jacking up so fast that I’m dizzy with it.
“R-Riley?” Chloe whispers, her voice shaking as bad as my knees are.
I swallow hard, my gaze shifting slowly from the gun to the man holding it. He’s got a jagged scar on the back of his hand, but what catches my eye more than that is the fact that he’s wearing three gold rings spread across his pointer, middle, and ring finger.
Shit.
Those rings scare me almost as much as the weapon in his hand does. Because I know what they mean.
West Point.
“Let her go.” I force the words out, my voice hoarse. “Please. Whatever this is about, we… we’ve got nothing to do with it.”
The dark-haired bastard who grabbed me near the door saunters over, casually pushing the man’s gun down and out of the way.
“Chill, Brett,” he drawls. “No value in damaged merchandise.”
I gasp, air rushing into my lungs like a million tiny daggers. My bones feel like they’ve liquified from a mixture of relief and lingering terror. I’m no longer staring down the barrel of a gun, but that doesn’t mean we’re safe.
“Whatever Frank’s done, it has nothing to do with Chloe and me,” I repeat, turning my attention to the dark-haired one, since he’s obviously in charge. “Let her go.”
He laughs, stepping forward and running a single finger down the neckline of my robe.
“You’re right about one thing,” he says with a hard smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. His finger travels all the way to my navel, and he tugs at the belt holding my robe closed. “You don’t have anything to do with this.”
The belt comes undone, and I stiffen, my whole body going tense. I’ve got more on under the robe than I wear when I strip, and he doesn’t even look as it falls open, but I still feel violated.
The man leans in, lowering his voice almost conspiratorially as he adds, “At least, you won’t have anything to do with it if your dear old dad is telling the truth.”
“I am,” Frank blurts, nodding so hard that sweat droplets spray off his chin. “Yeah, Austin, ’course I am. Would I lie to you? I wouldn’t do that. Nuh-uh. Never.”
I belt my robe closed again as soon as this Austin asshole’s attention shifts back to Frank, my hands shaking a little as I do it.
“You sure about that?” Austin asks, his eyes narrowing at Frank. “Because that hasn’t been my experience so far. You’d better not be thinking about going back on our deal now.”
When Frank wipes the handkerchief over his face again, his hand is shaking too.
“I-I’m not, I’m not,” Frank stutters. He points at my sister, who’s gone white as a sheet. “That’s her. That’s my little Chloe. Pretty, right? Just like I said. Just like I promised. Promised and delivered.”
“No,” I whisper, a sick feeling curdling my stomach. “What the fuck are you talking about? No one’s delivering anything.”
Austin ignores me and gives Chloe the same coldly lascivious once-over he just gave me.
“She’ll do,” he says after a minute, which makes Frank let out a sigh of relief and Chloe whimper, turning her big, pleading eyes on me.
“No!” I say louder.
I still don’t know what exactly is happening here, but I know for damn sure whose fault it is. I whirl on Frank, my hands tightening into fists.
“You fucking piece of shit,” I hiss. My nails dig into my palms, but I barely feel it. “Why have you been talking to these gang bangers about Chloe? Why did you bring them here? How could you… why… what…”
I can’t breathe. Can’t get the words out. There’s no air left in the room, and the sick feeling inside me is threatening to suck me under.
“Now, Riley…” Frank starts.
I lunge for him, a wash of red filling my vision, and he lifts his hands up to ward me off and scrambles backward.
Someone grabs me before I reach him, twisting my arms behind my back so I can’t move.
“Enough of this shit,” Austin says, snapping his fingers at his minions. “Let’s—”
“No,” I blurt before he can say go.
Brett is still holding on to my sister, and even if I don’t know everything that’s happening here, I know enough. They’re not just planning on leaving. They’re planning on leaving with Chloe.
I can’t let that happen.
I have to protect her.
I ignore the burning in my shoulders as I twist around in the grip of the man holding me so I can look at Austin. “Listen, I don’t know what Frank told you—”
“Don’t fight it, honey girl,” Frank cuts in, dabbing his sweaty face again. “This is the only way.”
I jerk against the goon holding me, my head whipping back toward Frank. “What the fuck did you get us into?”
He clears his throat. “Austin here, he… uh, he invested in, well, we were… business partners.” Austin snorts, and Frank scrambles to correct himself. “Not partners. I was just an investor. He was in charge, of course, but now there’s… there’s been a problem.”
“A money problem,” I whisper, my mind racing. He must be talking about the chop shop he set up a year or so ago. The illegal one that he was apparently stupid enough to get the West Point Gang to invest in.
Frank nods, his head bobbing up and down like his neck can barely support it. “Things fell through with the, uh, with the operation.”
“Enough,” Austin cuts in impatiently. “Your father owed us money. Money he couldn’t pay. Luckily for him, he convinced us he had something else of value to sell that would cover it.”
Oh, fuck. Chloe. He means Chloe.
Frank sold my sister to cover his debt.
“Father of the fucking year,” one of the West Point men mumbles with a dark laugh.
“No! You can’t take her!” I blurt. “Please,” I add, my voice harsh with desperation. “I’ll do anything.”
“Riley,” Chloe sobs before the man holding her slaps a meaty hand over her mouth. Her eyes go wide, tears welling up and spilling over as she shakes her head.
“Take me instead,” I whisper, my throat going tight at the muffled sound of her whimper.
“Ah. Very touching.” Austin gives a mocking laugh. “But I think I’ll pass. Your sister is younger, and that means she’ll be more profitable. Besides…” He gives me a cold smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “You’re too fucking mouthy.”
I bite my tongue so hard it almost bleeds, holding back the curses I want to hurl at him.
I have to. I have to show him that I’m not mouthy.
“Please,” I repeat, my voice hoarse and the words physically painful. “I’ll do whatever you want.”
He rakes his eyes over me again, then shakes his head.
“Nah.” The cool dismissal in his voice punches the air out of my lungs. “I think we’ll stick with the one we already have. Frank? You’re paid in full. Let’s go.”
“No!” I shout, doing my best to wrench away from the thug holding me.
“You really want to keep fighting, bitch?” the man whispers in my ear, pressing something cold and hard against my ribs.
His gun.
I go still, gasping as the horrible truth sweeps through me. There’s nothing I can do. If I try to fight my way out of this, I’ll only get myself killed.
Me and Chloe both.
Brett still has his hand over her mouth, and her eyes stay locked on to mine as they hustle her toward the door.
She can read me like a book, and even though she’s quaking with terror herself, she subtly shakes her head. She knows as well as I do that there’s nothing I can do right now that won’t make it worse.
“Let me… let me say goodbye,” I rasp. “Please. She’s my sister.”
Austin snorts, but he doesn’t say no, and the burly man holding Chloe takes his hand off her mouth and shoves her toward me.
“Be quick,” he grunts as Chloe flings herself into my arms, shaking.
I hug her against me, squeezing tight and whispering promises I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep into her ear. But I lied. I’m not going to say goodbye. That’s too fucking final, and I will fix this.
I’ll find a way.
I have to.
“I’m going to see you soon, okay?” I whisper, cupping her face and wiping her wet cheeks. “I’ve got you.”
She nods, her breath hitching. “I know.” She swallows, the doubt in her eyes breaking my heart. “I love you, Riley.”
I bite my lip and nod, because if I open my mouth again, I’m going to lose it.
And then Austin yanks her away. He jerks his chin at his men, and a second later, they’re gone. All except Frank.
The apartment is deathly quiet… or maybe it’s loud and I just can’t hear it. I can’t hear anything. Can’t think. Can’t feel.
Frank’s shoulders slump, and the tiny movement catches my attention. In a flash, all the fury I’ve been holding back explodes like shrapnel, ripping me apart inside.
I wheel on him, my fist already drawing back. I hit him hard in the face, and his head whips to one side.
“You fucking asshole,” I scream, tears clogging my voice as I punch him again. And again. And again. “You worthless—piece of—shit.”
He scrambles backward with his hands up to protect his head, shuffling toward the door like the spineless coward he’s always been, bleeding all over the carpet runner Chloe picked out.
He sold her.
Fucking sold her.
“Riley, now, h-h-hold up,” he stammers, cowering away from me. “This was the only way. You gotta understand—”
“I’ll never understand,” I cut him off viciously. I shove him backward just as he makes it to the door, driven by a fury so pure it feels like lightning. “Don’t come back here. Not fucking ever.”
He opens his mouth, his lip swollen and teeth smeared with red, and my jaw clenches.
I can’t stand to hear anything else from him. Can’t stand to see him. Can’t stand that he’s here and Chloe’s not.
“Not ever, Frank,” I repeat before he can get a word out, shoving him out into the hallway. “Don’t speak to me. Don’t let me see you. Don’t even dare to fucking breathe any of the same air that I do, that Chloe does, or else I’ll do what that West Side prick didn’t have the balls to.” I narrow my eyes, and his face goes white. “It would be easy,” I hiss. “Because you’re already fucking dead to me.”
He believes me. I can see it in his eyes.
Good.
He gives me one jerky nod before I slam the door in his face. The loud banging sound cuts through the air like thunder, leaving silence echoing in its wake.
“Oh god,” I whisper, all the adrenaline draining from me as I sink to the ground, leaning against the door. I don’t bother to throw the deadbolts. It doesn’t matter. They didn’t work. They didn’t protect Chloe.
Ididn’t protect her.
A ragged sob tears from my lips, and I cover my mouth as hot tears pour down my cheeks in an unstoppable wave.
For a brutal, endless slice of eternity, I cry like I never have before, drowning in it. Grief, terror, and rage fill me… until finally, a white-hot hatred rises up above everything else, burning bright enough to pull me back from the darkness.
I swipe angrily at my cheeks, chest heaving, and shove everything but the hatred aside. None of that is going to serve me now.
There’s a reason why I didn’t say goodbye to Chloe. Because this isn’t the end.
Standing up, I curl my hands into fists and force my heart rate to slow so that I can think.I’ll do anything to get my sister back. I just have to figure out what.
I want to force Frank to make this right, but I dismiss that thought as fast as it comes. That idea isn’t just stupid, it’s hopeless. He’s weak, and even if he didn’t already have a history of letting me and Chloe down, it’s clear there’s no way he can stand up against The West Point gang. They’re brutal, powerful, and feared in this corner of Halston.
And I’m nobody.
Not in their world.
I can’t go up against them, and I’ve never had anyone to turn to for help, but…
West Point has enemies too.
My heart is suddenly racing again, because the idea that’s slowly beginning to form in my mind is reckless and insane. It’s the kind of thing Chloe would rip me apart for even thinking of.
But it’s also the only option I’ve got.
I push away from the door and race into my bedroom, fumbling for my phone with shaking hands. I don’t care how insane this is. I don’t care about the risks. All I care about is getting Chloe back.
“Tai?” I say when the call finally connects after a thousand rings.
“Fucking hell, Riley,” my dealer groans, sounding half asleep. “Gonna charge you double. What the fuck time is it, the crack of dawn? You’re gonna have to wait. I don’t deliver until—”
“No. I’m not calling for weed. I need information.”
He snorts. “Not what I sell, babe.”
I hear the sound of bedding rustling and the low murmur of a woman’s voice in the background, and instead of trying to cajole him, I cut right to the chase.
“Where do the Reapers crew hang out?”
“What?” Tai suddenly sounds a lot more awake. “Why the hell would you ask me that?”
My knuckles ache from how hard I’m clutching the phone, and I lick my lips, staring at the wall as agitation churns inside me. “Because I know you keep tabs on gang activity around here.”
“Yeah, so I can make sure not to cross them.” He blows out a breath. “I’m small time, but the Reapers? Fuck. They’re not.”
“I know. I’m counting on it. So tell me where I can find them, okay?”
“No. Not okay.” His voice takes on a sharp edge, and the background noise fades, as if he went into a separate room. “What’s this about? Because you seriously don’t want to fuck with those guys.”
He’s right. I don’t.
But I have to.
I close my eyes, and the look on Chloe’s face when West Side dragged her out of here is all I can see behind my eyelids. “Tai. Please.”
He’s quiet for so long that I almost think he’s cut off the call. But finally, he lets out a frustrated groan.
“Shit. I don’t want to know what this is about.”
It wasn’t a question, but I reassure him anyway. “You don’t need to worry about your name coming up. I promise I won’t mention it. Just tell me where I’m likely to find them, and then you can forget we ever talked.”
He hesitates for another half second, then reluctantly rattles off the name of some bar in a part of Halston I’ve always steered clear of. He gives me a few other sketchy locations I can check if I don’t find them there, then sighs again.
“Hey, listen. I know it’s none of my business, especially since I never told you any of this, but… be careful, okay?”
“I will,” I promise, even though we both know it’s a lie.
Then I hang up and drop the phone, glancing down at the scrap of paper where I hastily scribbled the addresses he gave me. I’ll start with the most likely one tonight, then work my way down the list. And if I don’t find what I’m looking for, I’ll start from the top all over again.
I won’t stop until I find the Reapers.
Because they’re the only chance I’ve got.