Page 97 of Crash into me
The way harsh shivers leak down my spine and how Foster’s olive skin grows a ghostly white tells me exactly who’s on the other end. It’s the Keeper.
“We need to talk.” Foster spits.
“We …” He pauses, and I can hear the drag of something thick. Like a cigar, or a body. The thought makes me cringe. Who has Foster gotten involved with? “Don’t need to do anything.”
“Listen very fucking clearly to me,” Foster growls into the phone. “Fuck with me, that’s fine. But you’ve fucked with not only my family but also my girl, and I will tear Miami apart over them.”
“Ah, ah, ah,” the Keeper tsks. “I don’t have to threaten anyone, but I will continue to be a sharp edge stabbing into your side until my payment is paid in full.”
“We made a fucking deal, a timeline. Why can’t that be honored?”
The man scoffs. “Because cleaning up a dead body is much less fun and way more work than sending these little reminders. It shows you, and everyone else, how far my reach is. And from the looks of you constantly searching for me, it shows how much more of a ghost I am than you,” he sneers.
“I’ll get your fucking money,” Foster spits.
The car grows silent, and I nearly think the Keeper has hung up. We couldn’t be that lucky. “If you don’t, a lot more men besides myself will be jacking off to these images of your Skyler.”
My body shudders, and Foster looks over to me, taking deep, calculated, heavy breaths. He doesn’t hang up on the phone; instead, he punches the radio. The screen shatters beneath his knuckles. The line goes dead.
“This ends tomorrow,” he promises me.
“We pay him back and that’s it. There’s nothing more we need to do.”
“I’m going to fucking end him.” His breath is shaking with rage.
I tuck my hands under his face, his black eyes swirling with violence. “Foster, do not do anything else. Do not go after him. We’ve worked too hard to pay him back, and after tomorrow night, after the hurricane, we will be done with him.”
He blankly nods but doesn’t speak.
The silence scares me more than anything.
37
It seems trivial with everything going on to be taking my finals.
But I promised myself I would keep up with my schoolwork. I’ll be going into my senior year next year … I can’t let all of this fear and turmoil ruin my chances of graduation.
I try to place the Keeper, his threats, and the storm behind me if only for an hour.
How can I even fathom taking this year’s finals with so much heavy shit weighing down on me?
Everything is riding on tonight.
Everything.
When the stars are overhead, I’ll be cheering Foster on as he takes the last race so we can pay back that stupid loan shark.
I’m done, and now I have to wait on the results to come in around midnight.
Another thing to stress about today.
Yay, me.
* * *
The sky is blanketedwith stars, but you can’t see them under the thick gray clouds.
I look out the window. “What’s the weather saying?”