Page 17

Max

The sun beats down on my grandfather and me as we walk on a trail close to our neighborhood.

Rosie keeps pulling to the right, wanting to run and hunt a chipmunk deep in the trees.

She’s normally better behaved than this today, and I wipe sweat off my brow as I pull her back toward me.

It must be close to ninety degrees out. I glance over at Grandpa to ensure he isn’t looking overheated.

Sometimes it seems like he ignores the fact that he’s in his eighties and pushes past his limits, but the heat seems to be getting to me more than him today.

Rosie pulls to the side to do her business. Grandpa almost keeps walking without me, lost in his own thoughts. After I finish bagging it up, I can tell he has something important on his mind by the way he’s staring at the ground.

“Do you have something you need to talk to me about?” I ask. It’s not uncommon for us to spend time together, but this suggestion of going for a walk seems out of the blue for him, especially considering everything that’s happened in the last week.

He lets a teenager jog past us before saying, “I do. I’ve just been trying to find the right way to say it.”

I clench my jaw and brace myself for whatever bad news he’s about to drop. “Everything okay?”

“Yes, but we made contact with that cult this morning and Kaiser broke to the point he’s starting to cooperate.”

“That’s good, isn’t it? Are they offering us anything for that guy?”

“A lot,” he lowers his voice, looking left and right to make sure we’re alone. “A hundred million.”

My face brightens at the number, then drops at the sight of my grandfather’s expression. “And we’re not opening up a champagne bottle because...”

“They’re demanding the girl. They seem to care about the guy too and have ordered that we stop torturing him, but they said we can either give them both back or they’ll take the girl by force.”

I drop the plastic bag onto the ground and quickly pick it up again. Rosie looks back at me, probably sensing my sudden tension.

I know that if Grandpa didn’t want to do this, he would have told them no and never bothered to mention it to me. The fact that we’re having this conversation at all makes me want to go home, throw Hailey into the backseat of my car, and run away to Mexico.

“You can’t possibly be considering this,” I say.

He sighs. “You know me, kid. This isn’t an easy choice. We don’t sell innocent women like this. But I’d rather go to war with all the Russian families in the country than deal with these people. Has your friend—what’s her name again?”

“Hailey.”

“Sorry, my mind isn’t so sharp anymore. Has Hailey said anything about the cult? Mentioned how much manpower and money they have, or how they must be paying off the government in some capacity based on the lack of attention from law enforcement?”

“No, she shuts down whenever I try to ask about her past.”

He jerks his head back. “Your father made it sound like you two were hitting it off.”

“We are, but I think she’s still really shaken up about being kidnapped.

Poor thing jumps at any noise in the house.

” I’ve unintentionally scared her too many times just by entering a room she’s in.

I try to stomp around the house so she knows where I am, and that seems to have helped.

“Plus, she probably doesn’t trust me yet.

She’s smart despite a childhood filled with brainwashing.

I’m sure she’s caught on to the fact that a lot of our income streams aren’t exactly legal. ”

“This is so fucked,” he mutters to himself.

We walk in silence for a bit, my mind spinning just as I’m sure his is.

I’m glad he was the one to bring this up with me rather than Dad.

Grandpa is much better at handling delicate topics and weighing options for difficult choices.

Dad’s too impulsive. That is an excellent trait to have when things are popping off; I’ve never seen him choke under pressure, but I couldn’t handle talking to him about this.

I’m sure he’d decide to sell Hailey, get upset with himself for it, then drown out his feelings with half a bottle of whiskey.

“If we go through with this trade,” he says, “we don’t need to worry about the marriage arrangement with Ferrara. We can easily pay that debt to the Russians, and all the soldiers won't need to pay up.”

A couple passes us on the trail with a lab that jumps up on its leash and barks at us. They apologize, and I try to act like my world isn’t falling apart.

For the sake of argument, I try to ignore that warm, fluttery feeling I get when I think about Hailey and consider how I would handle this with any of the other bartenders we’ve hired in the past. But even then, we don’t sell people like this.

The only comparable situation would be if someone from a rival family attacked us and we captured them.

But in that case, that person put themselves in danger.

Hailey is just a woman trying to escape a dangerous situation, and we’re supposed to hand her back to them like nothing?

Imagining the look on her face—the fear and the betrayal, if we went through with this—makes me want to jump off a cliff.

“I don’t know if I can live with myself if we do this,” I say quietly, unsure if he even hears me .

He looks up at me, sadness in his eyes. “Are you sure?”

I nod.

“You’re willing to risk our family’s safety for her?”

I swallow. That question is hard. “What if they’re bluffing?”

“They’re not.”

I don’t answer him for a minute, and he keeps his eyes fixed on me the whole time. Eventually, I nod again, avoiding his gaze.

“This story could spread like wildfire in the family. Are you comfortable with everyone knowing you’re responsible for us losing out on that money?”

That would anger a lot of people. Dangerously so. Despite that, I answer yes again. “How much of my opinion are you going to weigh in on this decision?” I ask.

He raises one eyebrow at me. “A lot. Your family and I don’t want you devastated over one of my decisions. As I said earlier, this choice weighs heavily on me even without your influence. It’s a fucked-up situation.”

“Thanks.” I relax a bit, relieved he’s looking out for me so much.

He pats me on the shoulder. “Why don’t you sleep on it, and we’ll talk more tomorrow?”

I agree, even though I don’t think my opinion will change that much.

I wish I could quicken our pace to speed up the rest of the walk, but he can only move so fast. We remain silent for the rest of the walk, neither of us bothering to make small talk after the weight of the last conversation.

My head is still reeling from the choice.

I barely know this woman, and I don’t understand why I care about her so much.

What if I lose loved ones while waging war with these people?

Do we really want to tie ourselves to the Ferraras?

The logical part of me knows it’s better to give her back, take the money, and not risk any harm to anyone—except Hailey, of course.

But deep down, I know I will not make the logical decision.

I’m just bracing for the fallout.