Smash_ A Stepbrother MMA Romance(101)

For a second there, I was afraid I wasn’t going to stop. I was afraid I was going to actually kill the asshole. But then someone called out my name and the tension dispersed. Seeing the look on Becca’s face, her fear, almost drove me insane with anger.

I made my way through the underbrush and climbed over the fence surrounding our property, heading north. My plan was to hike due north, following a carefully laid-out path I had made over the years, until I got to the border. From there, I’d hike east a few miles and cross over the river bordering Canada wherever it seemed safest.

Becca coming home threw a wrench in everything, I realized. I had gotten so used to lying to Jack and my mom that it wasn’t difficult anymore. Throwing out lies was just a part of my daily routine ever since I got into the smuggling business. But Becca was already beginning to ask questions.

It was only a matter of time. Someone in town was going to say something to her, probably that pill head Lindsey, and I was going to have to make a choice. I would either have to lie to her or I’d have to tell her the truth.

I didn’t want to lie to her. Despite the things I had done over the years, I hadn’t ever lied to her. I hadn’t ever been in a position where I’d needed to, but that fact was important to me.

I had lied to everyone else in my life. I wanted things to be different with Becca.

The brush was dense under foot as I walked, the sun beginning to slowly rise, burning away the humidity that had formed overnight. I’d hit the border by one in the afternoon, make the exchange by two, and hopefully be halfway back home by the time it got dark.

That was the plan, at least. As I found out over and over again, plans don’t always work out. Everyone starts out with great training and planning, but as soon as you get kicked in the face for the first time, suddenly it’s a mad dash for survival. It’s easy to forget everything you worked on when there’s blood on your clothes.

The only place I never felt like I was scrambling was when I climbed up a cliff face. I didn’t know why, but there was something about a cliff that made sense to me. I could see the handholds and the footholds, I could see the route I’d need to travel to make it up the fastest. It just solidified in my mind the first time I looked over a wall, almost like magic.

Unfortunately, that skill didn’t help me too much when it came to smuggling drugs out of Canada.

As much as I hated to admit it to myself, I didn’t know Becca well enough to guess how she would react if she found out what I had been doing for money. Fear? Disgust? Disappointment? I had no way of knowing, and that was what worried me.

I hated having things outside of my control. I wasn’t a total control freak, but I liked to be able to influence events.

That was why, when my mom got diagnosed with cancer, I immediately found a way to help her. I couldn’t sit back and watch her get sicker and sicker. It wasn’t in my blood to be passive.

Climbing wasn’t going to make enough money. I had to do something more extreme.

I wasn’t sure if others could see why I made the choices that I did, but everything was supposed to help my family.

I just hoped that Becca could see it that way.

I checked the sun and guessed that it was about noon. I peeled off my light parka, folded it tightly, and slipped it into a pocket of my backpack.

I was getting close. Crossing was by far the most dangerous part of the whole thing, especially crossing back over into Washington from Canada with a pack full of drugs. If I got caught without the drugs, it would be bad enough. But with them? I’d go to jail, no questions asked.

I strapped my pack and hiked on. There was no point in worrying too much. The woods were lovely, dark and deep, and I had promises to keep. And a few more miles before I could meet up with my Canadian gangster and make the drop.

After another half hour of walking, I heard the sound of running water up ahead. I sighed, knowing that the water was the border, and that I had made really good time. I hated to get there early, but that was better than late.

The one and only time I showed up late had been bad. They threatened to dock my pay for every minute I was behind schedule. Apparently, even gangsters don’t like waiting around with a bunch of illegal drugs in their car.

I stopped by the river and crouched down next to it. It was lower than usual and moving more slowly, which was good. I could probably just walk right across it instead of hoping for a fallen tree or a makeshift bridge like I usually did.

As I began my trek east, I started to notice the signs. They were posted by both governments on both sides and were mostly meant to scare off lost hikers. They promised things like unreasonably high fines and hundreds of years in jail, plus physical dismemberment and torture, if you didn’t back off immediately.