Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
Izzy
Joey, Donnie, and Dad are hunkered down around the breakfast bar when the notification that a Mastodon vehicle is approaching the house comes through. A few minutes later, the garage door opens, there’s the roar of a car engine. It dies, and the door slams.
Alana enters the kitchen, her face neutral until she scans the room and finds her target. She smiles brightly walking towards Drew, who is sitting on the couch with me. “Hey Champ! You up for a challenge?”
Drew looks at her and says, “Sure?” his voice dripping with caution, not sure if he should agree.
“If you can pack up all your stuff and your mom’s in ten minutes, I’ll buy you a PlayStation.”
My son jumps to his feet faster than I’ve ever seen him move. He starts running, but Alana grabs his shoulder. “Do it in five, and I’ll throw in a drone and a bunch of games too.”
“DEAL!” Drew’s stomping up the stairs, and I follow after him through the kitchen. Something’s up. And all my instincts scream to be near my family.
“Don’t forget the fancy skin care stuff in your mom’s bathroom,” she calls up to him. But as soon as he’s out of sight, Alana moves so fast my brain can’t register what’s happening. She has my dad’s arm pinned behind him and slams his face against the fridge. As Joey goes to grab her, she pulls my dad’s gun from his holster and aims it at Joey’s head. Donnie has his arms around me, pulling me out of the kitchen.
“What the fuck aren’t you telling me?” Alana’s voice has a darkness I’ve never heard before. My dad tries to squirm but cries out more. My indestructible father is in pain.
“I’m telling you everything,” Dad wheezes. She’s hurting my dad.
The cold steel presses against Joey’s head, but he doesn’t seem afraid. “Alana, we need context.”
She whips her head between my dad and Joey. But Donnie keeps his grip on me and whispers, “She won’t hurt them with Drew in the house.”
My son’s stomping feet above us are a not-so-subtle reminder that we’re all on the clock. She told him five minutes. He’ll hold her to it.
Alana growls, “I left the hospital where one of my clients and Lance are being treated for exposure to Majesty.”
Lance! I try to get loose from my brother’s grip. “Is he okay?”
“He’s miserable but alive. I’m not sure if the same can be said for my client. One of my guys has gone AWOL, and it seems like he tried to kill his principal. We got word from my team that one other person’s drink was laced with Majesty. Honey Badger, my sister, and Lance’s principal.”
Oh shit. Every way you look at this, it’s bad.
Joey speaks slowly and cautiously. “It sounds like the call is coming from inside the house.”
Donnie adds, “You’ve got a rat, and that’s not our fault.”
“Yeah, I thought so too. I was coming here to move Izzy and Drew because their location might have been compromised. But my team found a second cell phone with Delta’s prints all over it. It’s a burner that’s been in nightly contact with Izzy’s ex.”
The mic drops. I mean, if we were in a rap battle, it definitely would’ve dropped. It’s my fault Lance is in the hospital right now. Lance is hurt, and it’s because of me. My throat burns, and I can’t see. Everything is blurry until I blink, and the world becomes clear again.
My dad growls, “Why would I keep something from you? Why would I willingly put my daughter and grandson in danger?”
Why would he? Has he forgiven me? Did he even miss me? Is the only reason he’s protecting me now because he doesn’t want to hurt the business?
Alana snaps, “I don’t know. Mob bosses are notoriously shitty parents.”
“Hey!” Donnie yells, “I turned out ok!”
The tension loosens slightly, as what I can only assume is mild amusement peeks through the deadly moment.
Drew calls down, “How much time do I have left?”
“Eight minutes, or three, depending on your goal!” Alana’s voice is back to the sweet fake voice. Maybe it’s not fake. But it’s vastly different from how she has been sounding in the kitchen.
I see my opportunity. “Okay. Feel your feelings, and let’s solve the problem.”
Alana instantly loosen her grip on my dad and lowers the gun. I’m half expecting them to attack, but Dad turns around and rubs his shoulder.
“‘Feel my feelings, and solve the problem.’” Alana shakes her head, “You quoted my sister’s best song.”
But that’s a Lena Goodlove…oh my god! I’ll process my emotions about that later.
“Izzy’s right. Our two problems seem to be connected,” Joey says, touching his forehead where the barrel left its circular prints.
Alana grabs her phone. “You guys are paying half.” Dad agrees to the terms before he even knows what they are. I don’t know what it is about her, but she can get men to agree to anything.
Her phone starts ringing, and a male voice picks up on the second ring. “It’s me.” Her voice is back to the dark and menacing.
The male voice says, “Good afternoon to you too. What can I do for you?”
“Hunters. I need five hunters, four-day time limit. One million, but every day it takes them to deliver, the price drops $250,000. Got it?”
Joey drags his hand down his face while Donnie lets out a long whistle. My dad says, “Damn, why don’t you go yourself if you’re so pissed?”
Joey glares at him, “Because you don’t drop an atom bomb on a house just because there’s a spider in it.”
Donnie shrugs, “You do if it’s one of those fuzzy jumping ones, like in Australia.”
Alana blinks at him for a second, mutters, “Good point,” and lifts the phone back up, telling the man on the other side of the line, “Tell the hunters if they don’t deliver in four days, I’ll go.”
The voice on the phone stammers, “But I thought you retired from this.”
“Well, these guys are really fucking fuzzy big-ass spiders, and they pissed me off. Four days.” She hangs up the phone.
Drew jumps the stairs two at a time, with our bags. “How’d I do?”
Again Alana smiles at him, and I can’t tell what side of her is real. “Great job, Champ. Go meet me in the car.”
She glares at my family. “I’m dropping you off in town. Take an Uber home. Izzy, you’re with me.” She shoots me an apologetic look. “I promise I am doing everything in my power to keep you safe.” She heads for the garage door. “You’ll be off the grid for a little while.”
The phone buzzes again, and she bounces on her toes standing on the threshold between the kitchen and garage. “You and your kid, stop texting Lance. Your phones could be compromised.” Before any of us can say anything, the door slams shut, and the garage door creaks open.
True to her word, she drops Donnie, Dad, and Joey off at a diner. I don’t think my dad’s ever taken an Uber before. Once they’re gone, she says, “Tomorrow I’ll let you see Lance. He’s been a miserable asshole without you.”
It hits me, maybe both sides of her are the truth.