Page 13 of The Fractured

I grabbed a lollipop, along with the things I was looking for, then straightened from the car and closed the door. Tearing the wrapper open, I retraced my steps through the parking lot and shoved the lollipop into my mouth, flicking the stick to one side as I honed in on the gray sedan.

No one was around as I stepped in beside the driver's side door and began peeling back the rubber lining on the window directly above the door handle. Using my body to block what I was doing from view, I pushed the bent coat hanger wire down into the narrow gap of the door and jimmied it until the lock popped.

I pulled open the door and climbed in, ducking my head for a better view of the underside of the steering column before getting to work on removing it using a screwdriver. The amount of times I had done this in the past, usually in more of a hurryif I was desperate, was something I shouldn’t have been proud of, but I couldn’t fight the satisfied smirk that spread on my lips when the car’s engine started after several taps of the exposed wire ends.

Two short blasts of a horn made me peer up quickly over the dashboard.

A large van, with windows down the side and a wheelchair sticker, had stopped in front of the car as the driver leaned out of her window.

“You know you can’t park there, right? At least not without a sticker or sign.” Her eyes drifted across the car, looking for those exact things. “I don’t mean to be assumptive, but it kinda looks like you don’t need the space.”

The kid in the back was in an electric wheelchair and holding a teddy up to partially hide their face as they watched.

“I’m just movin’ it.” It wasn’t a lie.

I offered them a half smile and put the gear stick in reverse, resting my arm on the back of the passenger seat as I pressed the accelerator. There were several other spaces nearby that this guy could’ve taken, so I chose one that was the furthest away. Once the car was off, I fixed the steering column and window to look like they hadn’t been tampered with. On the way back, still sucking on the lollipop, I gave a simple nod to the woman of the van now taking up the wheelchair access point.

She was standing at the back of the van, waiting for the kid to slowly reverse down a ramp as she watched me. At first, she sent me a look of gratitude before her brows furrowed in confusion when she watched me climb into the Cadillac. Not long after, the sedan driver returned, shocked at first that his car was gone and then baffled when he found it several minutes later in a completely different spot.

I watched through my mirrors, satisfied, until my attention was pulled to my phone as it buzzed on the dashboard.

My gut instantly twisted at theUnknown Numberwritten above the message. It was only his address and a time, but suddenly, the past month of peace was shattered. This simple text would set the ball rolling for what would be the end of my freedom. Work with Detective Whitmore would increase, and everyone I cared for would unknowingly have their lives on the line if I fucked this up.

I picked up the phone and opened my contact list, working my jaw as I reconsidered going through with this. I could lie for a week, or maybe a month, and pretend Antonio never reached out.

And run the risk of Mark finding out, getting annoyed I lied, and then having Mom deported because I didn’t cooperate.

I tapped his name and waited as the phone rang on the other end.

“Ah, my favorite person.” Mark’s sarcasm dripped through the phone. “Have anything good for me?”

“He’s made contact.”

Chapter 4

Lily

Rain pattered against the floor-to-ceiling front windows of the foyer as I shivered behind the front desk.

Candice, the middle-aged receptionist I shared the desk with, insisted on turning the AC to cool when she complained the foyer was stuffy. I think it had more to do with her hot flashes, but I kept my mouth shut, rolled down the sleeves of my white cotton shirt, and focused on work, fighting the urge to shudder again as I glanced at the time on my computer screen.

What felt like forever ago, when Dean had dropped me off, had only been three hours.

He could warm me up. The man was a walking, living heater.

It was almost 11 AM, and, with the foyer growing too cold to sit comfortably in, I decided to do the office drink orders early.

I stood, rubbing my arms for warmth. “Did you want anything from the kitchen, Candice?”

“No, thank you.” She glanced at me from over her glasses, noticing the tightness of my shoulders. “Looks like you should’ve brought a sweater.”

I hummed and forced a smile before walking down the hallway.

From every real estate agent’s office, as I stopped in their doorways asking if they wanted the usual, I received the same script of questions. They all wondered how I was after so much time away from work and then followed up with a question about why I had “disappeared” in the first place.

As if Mom’s explanation of me being unwell wasn’t good enough.

Each short conversation only added to the knot of nerves growing in my stomach. Tiny at first, it had started this morning as the usual anxiety I had before starting work, but then pinwheeled as the day went on.