Dawn by McKayla Box

Chapter 40

“This whole neighborhood is mine,” Annabelle Marquez says.

Sunny and I are in the back of the Mercedes I saw parked in the driveway of the house. Micah is driving and Annabelle is in the passenger seat. The Range Rover is behind us.

“I own all of the houses, so I own the street,” she continues. “You don’t walk in here unless you’re invited. Or you just wanna die.”

Sunny is staring down at her lap. A single tear tracks down her cheek.

“My family, we control everything that happens down here,” Annabelle continues, as if she’s giving us some kind of tour. “On both sides of the border.” She turns and grins over the seat at us. “You think I’m bad? Better hope you don’t ever meet my brothers.” Her smile dims. “Probably not much chance of that happening now.”

I hate the way she’s talking to us, but there’s nothing I can do about it. I’m scared, I’m confused, and I don’t know what to do about any of it.

Micah pulls us into the lot at the beach we saw coming in. He pulls to the curb.

“Have Jared and Bez clear the lot,” Annabelle says. “I don’t want anyone here.”

Micah nods and leaves the car.

I watch out the window and see him go to the Range Rover. He talks to them for a moment, then the Range Rover makes a U-turn and heads toward several parked cars in the lot. Jared jumps out, still holding the gun, and leans into one of the car windows. Less than ten seconds later, there’s a line of cars leaving. It takes less than two minutes for everyone to clear out. All that’s left are a couple of empty boat trailers, and I wonder if those belong to her, too.

I try to steady myself by looking at the water. But there’s no moonlight and the ocean looks like a black hole.

Micah comes back to the car and gets in. “We’re clear.”

“I wanna meet them on the dock,” Annabelle says. “I’m going to go wait for them. Bring the girls when I text you.”

“Got it,” Micah says.

Annabelle turns around and smiles at us. “Show time.” She turns back around and gets out of the car.

Sunny puts her hand on my thigh, her fingers digging into my leg. I put my hand over hers and look at her. Her eyes are red, her complexion wan. She’s terrified.

So am I.

“What’s happening?” I ask.

Micah doesn’t say anything.

“You’re seriously not going to talk to us?” I ask.

“Nothing to say,” Micah says. “Sit tight. This will be over soon.”

There’s a finality, a coldness, to the way he says it, and it scares the shit out of me.

I feel my pockets for my phone, then realize I left it in my car.

I’m running out of ideas.

“Here we go,” Micah mutters.

I follow his gaze through the windshield and see a boat approaching the docks.

A boat I’ve been on.

It’s Trevor and Brett.

The boat drifts slowly to the dock and I see Brett jump off to tie it up. Trevor is slow to get off and if I’m reading his body language right, he’s surprised to see Annabelle there. Brett lifts several boxes off the boat and sets them on the deck as Trevor and Annabelle talk. I can’t see his face, but I can tell by how he’s using his hands that he’s starting to get irritated. I see Annabelle produce a phone.

Then Micah’s phone vibrates.

“Okay,” he says. “We’re gonna get out and walk to the dock. Please don’t do anything dumb. Jared and Bez like to shoot things. And people.”

Sunny looks at me and I just nod because I’m not sure what else to do. We both get out and follow Micah toward the dock. My legs feel like rubber.

As we get closer, Trevor glances in our direction, says something to Annabelle, then his head snaps back.

Annabelle laughs and turns in our direction.

We keep walking.

“What the fuck, Annabelle?” Trevor says as we get closer.

“Good question, Trevor,” she says. “What the fuck? Why is your fucking girlfriend and her friend rolling into my neighborhood and why are they aware of the work you’re doing for me?”

Brett’s face goes pale when he sees us.

Trevor looks at me, his expression almost unreadable. But I know him. I see the tight set to his jaw, the muscle twitching, the way his eyes soften, then narrow. He’s asking me what’s going on. He’s trying to hide just how surprised – and concerned – he is.

I have nothing to offer him.

“They have nothing to do with this,” Trevor says. His voice is surprisingly calm. “Whatever you’re pissed about, it has nothing to do with them.”

“I’ll tell you what I’m pissed about,” she says. “You taking my fucking money.”

“What?”

“Skimming,” she says. “Last two drops of cash after you made drops were light. You fucks are skimming from me.”

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “We aren’t. You’re wrong.”

“I’m wrong,” she says, her voice silky soft. “You sure you wanna say that?’

“We’re not skimming.”

She looks toward Brett. “Hey. Gambler Boy. You skimming? You stealing cash from me?”

Brett hesitates, and that’s all I need to see to know he’s the one taking the money.

“No,” he says.

And it’s the least convincing no of all time.

Annabelle laughs. “That’s what I thought.” She shakes her head. “You fuckers unload the rest of the boxes from the boat and you’re done.” She turns and looks at Sunny and me. “And so are they.”

“Annabelle, listen—” Trevor says.

“Unload the fucking boxes,” she orders. “I told you what would happen if you fucked up. You should know I’m not playing. But I’ll let you decide. You can go first or the girls can. Your call. My parting gift to you.”

Her words slice right through me.

She’s not talking about letting us go.

She’s talking about killing us.

My hands are shaking at my sides and vomit rises in my throat.

Tears run freely down Sunny’s face now and she lets out a hitched gasp.

“I’ll get the boxes,” Brett says.

Trevor stands there, looking at me, his jaw set.

Brett walks back onto the boat and gets behind the wheel. He picks up a box.

And then all hell breaks loose.