Culver’s words kept coming back into my mind. The man didn’t seem like the type to mince words and make things up. If he said he was going to kill my family if we didn’t come through, I believed him.
Worse, I couldn’t stop picturing what he’d already done to them. The last time I spoke with my mom, she had seemed fine, but so much could have changed since then.
I sat up and grabbed my phone. It was too late to call, but I couldn’t stop myself.
I dialed and let it ring. It rang and rang, and finally the answering machine picked up.
Fear jabbed through me. I called again and again, but nobody answered. This was my ultimate nightmare, my worst and deepest horrors brought to life. My parents were never out this late at night. I couldn’t imagine a reason why the house would be empty at midnight; someone had to hear the phone ringing, and someone should be answering.
Unless Culver already had them and was going to use them against me.
My heart was hammering in my chest. I kept seeing that bastard’s face, his intense expression, his creepy smile. I knew what he wanted from me, knew he had said everything just to get a rise out of me, but I couldn’t help it. The whole reason I was doing any of this was to keep my family safe, and if Culver went after them, I’d be completely destroyed.
Without thinking, I got out of bed and got dressed. I tossed a few things in a bag, just enough for one short overnight trip, and then walked into the main room.
Travis was still gone. I had no clue where he went, but the car keys were still on the kitchen table.
I grabbed them. I didn’t think; I just moved. I went downstairs, left the apartment, found his car, and got in.
I started the engine.
I knew this was stupid.
I pulled out of the spot.
Ten minutes later, I was on the highway moving west, heading toward my farm. As far as I was concerned, this was the stupidest thing I’d ever done, but also the most important. I couldn’t keep relying on Travis to do everything, and frankly he didn’t seem all that worried about my family. His only goal was to get us out of our problems, and he never even mentioned my farm.
I knew what he’d say if he knew I was doing this. I was being rash, stupid, I had no plan, I was running headlong into danger, any number of complaints. And all of that was true.
But I was done sitting idly by. As I drove, I knew that I was making a stupid decision, but it was the right one for me. I couldn’t keep getting dragged along behind Travis as he made his complicated moves in this insane game of chess. I needed to check on my parents.
I knew the mafia didn’t want me leaving Knoxville. That was part of the deal from the very start, that I didn’t try to run. I had to hope that they couldn’t watch me all day and night. They might not even notice I was gone if I only made a quick stop to check on my parents. If my family was fine, I could rest up for a couple hours and then turn right around and head on home.
Yes, this was a stupid decision. Yes, I was breaking the mafia’s rule and potentially ruining all the hard work Travis had put in. But despite all of that, I had to do this. I couldn’t sit around and sleep knowing that my family could be in danger.
As the miles passed, I began to believe in myself.
The trip out to Dade County, where my family farm was situated, took about three hours. That was three hours of mindless driving with little to no sleep, three hours of torment. I tried to keep myself distracted with the radio, but it was impossible.
I just kept imagining the worst. I kept seeing Culver sitting in our kitchen, that creepy smile plastered on his face as he killed my parents one after the other. He’d force my brothers to watch, of course, since he was a sadistic piece of shit. When he was done with my parents, he’d take my brothers out back and finish them off, too.
Or maybe he’d force my brothers to kill my parents. Or maybe he’d string them all up in the barn and leave them there to die of thirst. Or any other number of terrible things I could think of.
Time passed. Miles passed. I kept moving west and a bit north, winding my way through the hills.
Slowly, things began to look familiar. The few billboards around the area hadn’t been changed in twenty years, and I knew them like the back of my hand. The town names, the exit numbers, everything felt like home. Even the trees seemed more familiar.
Until finally, just as the sun began to peek slightly over the horizon, the beginning pink of sunrise edging into the night, I saw the exit for Dade County.
I knew I wasn’t far. I turned off the highway and began to wind my way through the back roads. Dade had a small town center, much smaller than Knoxville. I passed through that and headed into real farm country, where the houses were situated miles apart and livestock was more plentiful than people. I saw Old Bill’s barn over a hill and knew that I was close, so damn close.