Chapter 45
FORTY-FIVE
SILAS
SIXTEEN YEARS OLD
Silas remained low, his head darting in every direction to make sure no one was looking as he switched out the backpack he’d retrieved along the bank of the river with the one that was hidden behind the industrial icemaker at the back of Keg & Creek Tavern.
Night swam around him, the drone of the country music playing from a jukebox inside seeping through the wooden walls, his thundering heart louder than anything.
It’s the way it always was.
His heart beating so hard that he thought it would explode.
He switched out the backpacks then ducked back out into the cover of the forest. Racing like he was trying to outrun the silvered rays of moonlight that speared down through the leaves.
Trying to stay in the shadows and out of sight as he headed back toward the river.
His breaths were rattled gusts as he finally made it back to the drop site, and he snatched the thick envelope stuffed with the cash he’d split with his dad and shoved it into his back pocket before he got onto his knees and pulled back the branches that covered the hole.
Only he froze when he felt the disturbed energy crash over him from behind. Just in the distance, stepping out from behind the trees.
Terror ridged his spine, and he tentatively shifted to peek over his shoulder.
His stomach dropped when he saw who it was.
“What are you doing?” His mother’s face was pinched in hurt and disgust, and she wrung her fingers as she took another step toward him.
“I…” His mouth was too dry to force the lie from his tongue.
“I didn’t want to believe it. But all that money kept coming in.” She choked it, not even waiting for a response or admission from him since she’d already extricated the truth.
“Mom,” he finally managed, but she was shucking off the shock, her demeanor shifting to anger and desperation as she started to rush for him.
Her attention whipped in every direction before she demanded, “Put it down right now, Silas. I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but this ends right now. Where is he?”
She looked around again.
“I don’t—”
“Don’t you dare lie to me. I’ve had plenty of them already.” Disappointment gushed out.
“I didn’t have a choice,” Silas choked.
“You didn’t have a choice? You always have a choice, Silas, and I know you were trying to make the right one, but this is the worst one you could have made. We don’t stoop to this.”
She snatched the bag from his hold and shook it in his face. “He put you up to this, didn’t he?”
Silas blinked, shuffled on his feet, unsure of what he should give her.
“I just wanted to help. You work so hard, and I heard that the rent was late. I had to do something.”
She gave a harsh shake of her head. “But not this. Not this, Silas. Please.” She’d begun to beg, the horror of what he’d gotten involved in finally catching up to her.
“Okay, I’ll stop.” He reached for the bag, but she jerked it out of his reach.
“We need to go to the police. Tell them what’s happening. We have to put an end to this.”
“Mom—” He didn’t get to finish the thought before a boat engine suddenly roared.
Right there, hidden in the brush on the river.
He spun around toward it, squinting as a spotlight blinded him.
He put a forearm up to protect himself from it, but there was no protecting them from the riot of gunshots that suddenly rained.
So loud he couldn’t hear as dust and debris flew.
He didn’t even feel the hot spikes of pain impale his side.
He could only spin around and throw himself over the top of his mother to protect her.
His mind spinning with terror. With the horror of what he’d done.
No question, they saw her and believed her a threat.
Gunshots continued to fire. A slew that sparked and disoriented.
His ears rang so loud when the barrage finally ended, and the boat engine roared as it sped off into the night.
While everything else seemed slowed. The ravaging of his heart and the processing of his brain.
His movements stilted and broken.
His ears rang and rang, and dizziness spun his head.
The oxygen he tried to expel from his lungs felt like it weighed five thousand tons as he pushed himself off his mother.
His mother who was making sounds he couldn’t quite make out.
Gurgled and strained.
One sliver of moonlight cut through. Enough to illuminate her face.
Her face that was splattered with blood.
“Oh God. Oh God. No, no, no.” He mumbled it, struggling to push to his feet, the toes of his shoes sliding against the loose dirt below him.
She kept making those noises. Noises that rattled with shock and pain.
He finally made it to his knees, and he was begging, “Mom. Please, just hang on. You’re gonna be fine. I promise you’re gonna be fine.”
She had to be.
He somehow managed to get her over his shoulder, his mind spinning and his body bowing as he battled to stand.
He had to get her help.
He turned and staggered down the path toward where his dad would be waiting.
Wishing he could run, go faster, but his right leg was dragging as he fought through the underbrush.
“We’re going to get you help. It’s okay. It’s okay.”
She was wheezing then, these thin rasps that he begged to continue.
“You’re okay. You’re okay.”
Sweat drenched his body as he staggered through the woods, mixing with the tears and blood that obscured his sight.
He forced off the darkness that kept trying to enclose. The waves of dizziness that whooshed through his body.
He finally stumbled out from beneath the trees, and his father’s truck idled on the deserted dirt road just in the distance.
Relief sliced through him on a gush of fatigue. On the failing that his body was getting ready to surrender to.
They were almost there. They were almost there. He could do this. Just a few more feet.
“Dad,” he shouted. “Help!”
The engine turned over, and the lights flashed on.
Except his father didn’t climb out to help him.
He shifted into gear and gunned the gas.
The roar of the old engine and the spitting of dirt as the tires peeled out hitting Silas’s ears.
His father swerved as he hit the road, his taillights disappearing in the distance.
“No! Come back! You have to help her! Help us!” He screamed it, his voice hoarse and croaked.
He attempted to fumble along behind him.
“No!” he wailed, a sob hitching in his throat.
He stumbled, and his right knee gave out from under him. He fought to right himself, but he fell forward, he and his mother slammed into the dirt.
Blackness flashed, agony clawing through every one of his senses.
Somehow, he managed to get onto his hands and knees, and his chest battered and bashed as he rolled his mother over.
She flopped onto her back, and her kind eyes were wide and terrified.
“Mom. Oh God, Mom, please! Look at me. You’re going to be okay.”
At the sound of his voice, her eyes flicked to his. The second they did, they softened, an expression coming over her face that he didn’t deserve.
Pride and love.
So much love.
“Take care of your brother and sister.”
He shook his head. “No. You’re fine. You’re fine.”
She coughed and blood spluttered from her mouth. “Promise me.”
Tears poured, and he choked, “Mom.”
“Promise me,” she wheezed.
“I will always take care of them. Just like I’m going to take care of you.” He wanted the words to come out firm. Full of belief. Except the tears that wouldn’t stop polluted them.
Sadness tweaked her blood-soaked lips, and she lifted her hand and set it on his chest. “It’s your heart. It’s your heart.”
Then her arm slumped to the ground.
A wail rose from the depths of him. A sonic boom that reverberated in the stillness of the night.
No.
No, no, no, no, no.
He fought to stand, strain burning through his muscles, agony firing through his being as he grabbed her by the arm and tried to drag her.
Desperate shouts of misery cleaved from his mouth. “Help! Help! Someone, please help!”
But there was nothing.
No one to save them. No one to fight for them.
And he was weak.
So weak.
Darkness enclosed, and he fell face first to the damp earth.
The heart she thought he had imploding.