Page 96 of Finders Reapers

“We have another stop to make,” Maddox told me, not looking at me as he spoke.

We joined Route 95 and drove alongside the beautiful Colorado River in silence before entering the freeway and the desert roads. Maddox spoke only to inform me of the river's name when I asked, and the road signs were self-explanatory.

The Mojave desert was big, and Las Vegas loomed as the mile markers decreased with every passing sign.

I finished my drink quickly and left the ice.

When that melted, I drank that too.

Two hours passed in relative silence—though Maddox occasionally would ask me questions about myself and what I used to do.

He didn’t game, apart from Candy Crush and Madden (sporadically). I was all too happy to fill the silence with descriptions of my lighting setup. How I configured my LED lighting to detect the game's colors and match them so my green screen wasn’t out of whack.

“You miss making videos, don’t you?” Maddox said after I finished my long-winded explanation.

I shrugged, fiddling with my fingers on my lap. “My mom died with I was ten, and my Nonna and Nonno went the next year,” I explained. “My dad wasn’t around much, but when he came back from a convention or a business trip, he would bring a game back for me. His assistant was really big on fitness and dieting and stuff, so that’s why it was always dancing games or Wii fit. I knew he didn’t choose the games, but it was nice that he brought something back. It was like he missed me.”

Maddox’s eyes softened. “Did you want to be a dancer?” He asked.

I shook my head and sat back in my chair. “God’s no,” I said emphatically. “I used to do ballet until I was fifteen, my teacher Mrs. Lang used to whack me with a rolled-up newspaper because I was too tall.”

Maddox looked suitably horrified. “She hit you for being too tall?”

I shrugged. “Ballet dancers are small. Slight. I could probably be one now if I lost like fifty pounds.”

His horrified expression deepened. “You look fine.”

I wiggled my eyebrows. “I lookfine, do I?”

“Shut up,” Maddox muttered, turning back to the road. “So, your dad used to buy you games?”

“Yeah,” I smiled at the thought. “I used to be the girl at the parties that was always hogging the ps4 in the corner. DDR or VR dancing started as a party trick, but I realized that I liked it. I liked learning the steps and changing them up. Then, I realized I liked the technical side too. The lighting, the camera angles.”

“Being famous?” Maddox added wryly.

“Being an Internet celebrity doesn’t feel like being actually famous,” I explained. “No one at Walmart would know how I was, but then I’d go online, and people would comment like I was the second coming of Christ.”

He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “That sounds like a difficult life to lead.”

As we drove closer to Vegas, I didn’t ask where we were going, though I got the impression that Maddox wouldn’t have told me if I had.

Finally, I began to recognize the stop signs and streets.

We were going to my father’s house.

The lump in my throat grew so large that it was painful to speak around.

Maddox signaled as we turned into the cul de sac.

I had no idea what was happening, but I was filled with equal parts horror, betrayal, and confusion.

He parked up, and if I squinted, I could just about see my father’s home in the distance.

“Why are we here?” I asked, clearing my throat when my voice caught on my words.

It felt like an ambush.

“Could you open the glove compartment?” Maddox ignored my question.