4
“Family meeting.” I toss a glass of water in Rafe’s face. It splashes across his bed.
“It’s fucking seven a.m., Riggs!” He chucks his pillow at me, and I catch it only to throw it back twice as hard. “Alright, alright.”
Murphy is already moving around the kitchen when I get down there. I’d left Cress on the couch in the garage last night for a couple hours, unable to argue with her anymore and the dread of five hundred thousand dollars looming over my head.
I knew the Westfalls. Tashi specifically is a piece of work.
Either Cress finds their money, or she disappears forever.
What confuses me is why they went after her. Tashi Westfall’s smarter than that, he’d know that the money, if anywhere, would be with us. Here. Under the Monroe roof. So why scare the shit out of Cress?
“Where’s Birdie?” I ask as he pushes his glasses up his nose.
“In the shop,” he says, and before he can even pop his p, I’m moving. The shock of Cress here would have rattled Birdie even if she was in the best shape. “Slow down!” Murphy calls out to me as I stomp across the wet yard and into the garage.
Birdie is sitting across from her on the couch with tears streaming down her face. “You didn’t tell me she was here.” The words come out sharp as a scowl forms on her face.
“I thought I’d be up before you.” I scratch the back of my neck and then shove my hands into my pockets as Murphy wanders in behind me.
“Whoa,” he exhales under his breath and looks at me. “That’s a plot twist.”
“Tell me about it,” I huff.
“Holy shit,” Rafe’s voice is the next in line and we all turn to look at him. His hair is unbrushed and he’s barely pulled on a pair of pajama pants that he’s fixing around his hips. “Did you know she was here?” he asks, pushing past.
“And he didn’t fucking tell us,” Birdie snaps.
“I was going to.” I defend. “Since when are you the first in the garage?”
“I left my phone charger in the bay,” she hisses and wipes her tears with the back of her hands.
“Where did you get that?” I ask about the first aid kit between them, it’s a different one that I’ve never seen before.
“Murphy keeps it in his desk,” she answers as Cress leaves me to suffocate on their rapid fire questions.
“Did you tell her why you’re here?” I ask Cress as they hang me out to dry.
“She said she wanted to wait for the boys,” Birdie answers and I grind my teeth together.
Rafe leans over the couch and inspects the cut on Cress’s face with a grimace, “that might be infected,” he whispers and she pushes him away with a hand.
Murphy sinks into the recliner and once they’re all settled, she tells them what she told me.
When she finishes, they all sit in silence for a few minutes.
I can see more questions stirring around in their heads, Murphy’s fingers tap around his coffee cup and Rafe stares at me like he’s already thought of every bad thing that could have happened to her.
Going into the jobs, we all knew the risks. We understood the danger of the contracts. But this is different. This is Cress.
“Tashi is a pussy.” Birdie is the first to speak.
“Don’t,” I stop her. “Don’t use his name.”
“He’s not Beetlejuice, Riggs. He’s not going to appear if you say it three times.” Birdie scoffs.
“He might,” Rafe says, he looks nauseous.
“We don’t know if it’s them, Cress only remembers that name. It could be one of a hundred people he owed money to,” I say and Murphy hums in agreement.
“So what do we do?” Rafe asks, his fingers curling around the back of the couch. “It’s not like we have a spare half a million lying around.”
“You want to give them the money?” Cress blurts.
“It’s that or they kill you,” Birdie says quietly and something passes between them.
Cress is older than her, but not by much.
When we were ten, Koa found Birdie on the side of the road in her car seat screaming her head off.
She was barely two years old. He brought her into the garage, scared out his mind.
Mom took care of her while she could but eventually Cress became attached and the rest was history.
Birdie has always belonged to them, like a daughter in a hundred ways except for blood and name.
No—Birdie is a Monroe legally. Her name is on the adoption papers Mom signed three weeks before she died. But Birdie’s soul is tied to Cress.
“They said they wouldn’t,” she argues.
“It’s a tactic,” I interject. “They wanted you scared, desperate for protection. Willing to do anything.”
“Including show up here,” Cress whispers under her breath.
“Lucky for you, I don’t think they’ve figured that part out yet,” Murphy offers. “If they had, they’d be here. You didn’t exactly drive something inconspicuous.”
Koa’s Cuda sits in the open garage door, damp from the rain and drying in the sun.
“So not Tashi,” Rafe says, catching on to what Murphy is laying down.
“If he wanted something from us, he’d just demand it. You know him, he’s not a coward, despite the fancy insult.” He looks at Birdie with a smile. “I think we’re dealing with something else.”
“Someone else,” I correct. “But who, and what the hell do they want with Cress?”
“I can get the book,” Cress offers, “but it doesn’t solve the money issue. I don’t have that kind of cash.”
“None of us do,” Rafe says tightly, his eyes passing over the group.
“We can leverage the shop. The house…” I suggest, and they all look at me like I’ve gone insane. “It might be enough.”
“No,” Murphy is the first to say it. “This is our home.”
“It’s her life,” I counter, and he chews on it for a moment before nodding.
“I’m not rolling over and letting them take our house, or the garage.” Birdie stands, her hands shaking at her side. “We race.”
“No,” I don’t hesitate.
“Racing is the answer.” Birdie snaps back.
“We don’t do that anymore,” I remind her, and for a good reason.
“Why?” Birdie pushes. “Because you said so?”
“Yeah, Bird. Because I said so,” I snap. “It’s dangerous, and it’s stupid.”
“That’s bullshit,” she argues.
“You’re being irrational because she’s in rough shape.” I regret it the second it leaves my lips because Birdie starts laughing. Both Murphy and Rafe cross their arms, backing away from the fight.
“Irrational is selling the house and garage,” Birdie snaps at me. “Neither are worth that kind of money, and it’s going to take us more than three weeks.”
I clear my throat, but she’s nowhere near done chewing me out.
“And then what? Cress is alive but the four of us are homeless… jobless…” She scowls. “Irrational is jumping straight to the first plan without actually listening to the other options.”
I’m trying to protect you.
“Racing isn’t an option.” I remind her. Her hardened expression turns malicious. “For any of us.” I follow up but it’s pointless, once she starts, she doesn’t stop until she’s won. Stubborn, intelligent, bold and lethal. That’s Birdie.
This fight was over the second I questioned her mental stability. Poor word choices have walked me into darker corners.
“You’re scared,” she says, “we get why.”
Last time I was in a car, with those sorts of stakes. Koa died.
“But this is what we’re good at and it’s been so long.” Birdie vibrates. The thought of being behind a steering wheel going one hundred and thirty miles an hour up the side of a cliff is like a rush of drugs to her system. “Come on, Riggs. You know we can make more money in a week.”
“It’s true. The scene is all Daddy’s car boys and idiots just looking to recreate a street race they watched in those stupid movies,” Murphy adds. “We can beat them in that.” He gestures to the caravan behind us. “Birdie in her sleep.”
He isn’t wrong. Birdie is the best of us because she’s been taught by the best.
“Easy money,” Rafe smiles like he’s already team Birdie. Traitor.
I look at Cress who’s incredibly quiet during all of this. Her eyes meet mine and I can see the regret there. She might not act like it anymore but we’re her family too and the thought of losing one of them behind the wheel the way we lost him is daunting.
“I don’t want you risking your lives for me,” Cress pipes up.
“It’s what he would want.” Birdie shuts her down gently. “He’d be the first one in line to make this right.”
Koa. His name goes unspoken, my fear too loud to allow room to grieve.
“Pull the Cuda in here.” I clear my throat. “We don’t need extra trouble on top of this stupid fucking plan.”
Birdie squeals and throws her hands in the air for the guys to high five her.
“It’ll work.” She turns to look at me, nodding.
“It has to.” I stare at her.
“That, or we all die,” Murphy grumbles under his breath.