KYOLINE
Her brain was spinning and racing like a runaway rollercoaster. The note taped on their apartment door that morning roared in her mind. And the big, bold block print, against the white paper, was etched in her mind.
The rear office air conditioner was as cold as an arctic blast whipping past her. Or maybe it was fear cooling her veins…
Fear of what that sheet of paper did or didn't mean.
And fear of what she was going to get herself into at the moment.
"Are you positive you want to smuggle guns for us, Kyoline?"
Fear. Panic. Desperation. They all came crashing through her in rolling waves of the sea, threatening to engulf her under their crushing weight. No. No, she didn't want to do this. But he didn't have to know that. "Sure. Of course." The words spilled out of her lips as she crossed her fingers behind her back.
Tenz Jersey, her boyfriend, scanned her. "Is something wrong?"
Doubt crept onto his features, and her stomach curled up. She pasted a wide smile on her face and a forced brightness in her tone. Because if she smiled, if she pretended, then maybe it could be. "Everything's absolutely fine. I just need some more money to spend."
She chatted while they talked and kept snapping the clasp of her bracelet open and shut. Her pulse thudded in her ears like a drummer beating out the time. She didn't know how in the world she was going to be able to pay rent this month. Her mom would not be able to cover it. She was the one who had gotten them into this mess. And the only thing she could be certain of right then was that she had to pay a roof over her three younger brother and sister's heads. She was eighteen, and she never thought she would have this type of responsibility, but there was no way in the world she was going to let her siblings down—ever.
She hated to even go so far as to ask Tenz. Weak like that. Begging for a handout from others. That's what others would think if they learned of this. But she pushed that bit of information out of her mind. It didn't matter what they thought. Not now. Just smile, Kyoline. Just have faith that everything was going to be all right.
Her palms were moist and she continued to fiddle with the cold metal clasp. Open, closed, open, closed, trying to calm her frazzled nerves with the soft buzzing of the snaps.
"Meaning, we don't really have that much going on. Some courier work, but that's kind of low-level stuff."
"I'll do it," she said in a hasty rush before he could take the offer back. She rubbed her throat, trying to shake the desperation creeping into her voice. "I mean, I don't mind if it's something like that. What do I have to do?"
He sat back in the chair in his office at the back of the restaurant. "We'll give you the information. You deliver the guns and collect the cash on the location. When you bring it back here with the money, we'll give you a cut of it."
It didn't sound like the hardest thing in the world. And yet how many stories of couriers and runners getting caught by the police went around the casino on a far too regular basis? The real possibility of being caught choked her like a serial killer had his hands around her throat. Still, she kept a poker face. "Sure. I can do that."
She wished.
Tenz hummed before he took a sip of his whiskey. "Okay. It's yours. I'll let the boys know."
"Thanks, Tenz." She tried not to let her body sag with relief because this was only half the battle. She wasn't stupid enough to think that this was going to be as easy as he made it sound.
"No problem, Kyoline." He was only half paying attention now, his gaze fixed on a message that had lit up his phone. He didn't look happy. "I'll be back in a minute, okay, doll?"
She watched Tenz talking in hushed tones with a couple of his guys who were standing just outside the office door. They were talking business, and she knew she'd overstayed her welcome now.
She grinned at Tenz once again as she elbowed her way past him, and in a small jerk of his head, he indicated that she was leaving and that he'd call her later about the job. * * *
She checked her phone three times for the address, the brightly illuminated screen showing her face.
It was gloomy and dark today, so it was kind of odd that she had sunglasses on. But not having them on was just one of those things that didn't seem quite right to her.
It was a normal gun drop. A standard exchange. Younger teens than she was did this sort of thing all the time.
She could do it.
And yet her heart thudded in her chest, palms slick with sweat as she wiped them against the fly of her jeans. Fumble this, and that was it. Sayonara to the creaking roof over their heads, and the warm food for the children would be a memory. Poof. Down the drain.
Eviction. The word a giant neon sign blazing in her mind.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She was able to do this. She had to do this. There was no option. The money she was gaining from this was enough to prevent them from being homeless for the next month. And to lose their home was something that she did not want to put her siblings through. They were worth better than this, and she was going to personally ensure that they got what they were owed.
They never stood a chance with a liar for a father. One thing was sure; she'd never trust a lying man. She'd experienced at firsthand the pain and irreparable harm that lies brought. They could never be a solid base for something good—because lies were simply flimsy pillars that'd always cause the loose forces in your life to crash down like a house of cards in ruin.
Her fist clenched around the strap of her backpack, and she breathed deeply before proceeding.
Twenty minutes ago in Tenz's office, she'd been handed the backpack, heavy with the weight of a gun within. With an address, a time, and a don't get fucking caught note.
She moistened her lips. She was two blocks away from the address. And then she saw a police car.
Oh God.
Throat-drying, she tried to adopt a carefree air. She did not hurry in spite of all the cautions bellowing in her head.
Her heart thudded against the side of her throat. Her fist gripping the bag tightened, fingers damp with sweat.
The cruiser moved up behind her. Its tires screeched on the pavement. And it came to a stop beside her.
A shadow moved inside.
Then—whooooo! The siren let out a wail.
Each muscle in her body locked up.
Please, no…
The cops rushed out of their car.
She screwed her eyes shut.
"You're under arrest!"
And she felt the whoosh of cold air as they rushed toward her.
Cringing, she waited for their hands to grab her.
And waited some more…
Before cracking one eyelid open a millimeter.
And darting a feverish glance around herself, she saw a kid in a dark hoodie a few steps away who was being cuffed.
Her mouth dropped open. She let it snap shut and lowered her gaze to the sidewalk in case they caught sight of her gaping and wondered why.
She was only an innocent bystander. Okay, possibly not that innocent. But she wasn't who they were coming for today.
She pulled her hood down swiftly to match the other bodies swarming the area. People all headed to goodness only knows where. But to the cops, she was just another black-haired girl among a sea of ravens, brunettes, and blonds.
As she hurried on, she couldn't stop her eyes snapping back to the officers, her hold on the bag tightening as she kept it clamped against her hip. What was the punishment for carrying firearms without a permit? The stolen, illegal type of firearms. She didn't know the answer was, and she was damned certain not going to find out.
Being taken in for the day was the very last thing she could manage. Her siblings were counting on her, and spending the night in holding or worse was just not on the agenda. Taking a shaking breath, she relaxed her muscles. Focus, Kyoline.
She arrived at the destination. Coming to a halt, she remained there with her mouth agape as two more officers stood by the door she was to deliver.
Shit.