Badlands by Callie Hart Read Free Book Online Page A

daughters—his eldest, the one on the mountain who’s training to be a doctor, the same as him, and his youngest, still in high school and thinking about becoming a psychologist. The way he talks about his kids is almost comical. So fucking proud. My folks were present when I was growing up, but as a mixed race child they were always pushing me so hard to succeed, to be good, to be better, as though the color of my skin was a disability I had to work extra hard to compensate for. Al’s children seem to be well on their way to greatness, but it sounds as though their father would be singing their praises no matter what they decided to do with their lives.  
    He drops me off at the hospital and gives me his phone number ‘in case I’m ever stuck again’ and I’m hit with a bout of remorse. Not something I experience all that often. I’ve beaten people black and blue. I’ve pulled out people’s fingernails. I’ve strongly encouraged men to betray employers and their own families, by any and all means necessary, and I’ve barely given it a second thought. And then this guy comes along, doesn’t know me from Adam, and gives me a ride with no thought of compensation or suspicion, and, well…it kind of puts things into perspective.   I deal with the scum of the earth on a daily basis. It’s easy to forget that not everyone out there is like that.
    “Take care of yourself,” he tells me.  
    “You, too, Al. You shouldn’t pick people up on the side of the road, y’know? It’s not safe.” Oh, the irony.  
    He gives me a sad smile and nods, hefting a large brown leather bag from the back seat of his car. “I know. But that’s all the more reason for me to stop for the good ones, right?” He heads off in the direction of the hospital’s entrance, whistling something bright and cheerful. Just before he disappears inside the hospital, Al stops and calls to me across the parking lot.  
    “God bless you, Michael. It was wonderful to meet you. Good night!”
    I’ve decided against grand theft auto tonight.
    I’ll take a taxi instead.

FIVE

    The heavy, steel sliding door of Zeth’s warehouse is chained shut when I get there. That means Zeth’s out. I have a key to the padlock, of course, so I let myself in and I instantly think the place has been turned over.  
    His glass coffee table is shattered. The books that are normally stacked neatly on a set of three shelves on the other side of the open living space are strewn all over the floor, pages torn out and shredded like goddamn confetti. Mounted on the wall, a seriously sharp and very serrated hunting knife is protruding from the shattered screen of Zeth’s television—the television he just bought. I doubt the guy’s ever turned it on, but still…he is gonna be fucking pissed .  
    I pull my gun out of its holster underneath my suit jacket and proceed to tread lightly into the warehouse, small cubes of glass crunching under foot from the coffee table, my mind racing a mile a minute. Where’s the girl? Is she okay? After everything that’s gone down with Jamie and Cade today, I’m immediately wondering if she’s still going to be here or if she’s been fucking kidnapped. I haven’t really had time to assess whether Zeth would be angry if Lacey weren’t around, haven’t been able to gauge if he sees having her here as a blessing or a curse yet, but I know for a fact he’d be raging if someone fucking took her.  
    “Lacey?” I call out as I move from the living area toward the kitchen, where I find all the cupboard doors open, one of them hanging by one hinge, and pots and pans discarded everywhere all over the floor. “ Lacey !”
    Nothing.  
    Could this have something to do with today? Could Charlie’s cameras have picked up a clear image of me? Does he already know I work for Zeth? Did he come here to confront of Zeth and decide to kidnap Lacey instead? The Chrysler’s windows were tinted, and Zee’s always held his cards very close