“But that’s not for you to worry about. I just wanted to tell you in person before the rumors started in our circle. Every time something like this happens, my men seem to turn into gossiping women.” Doc reaches across the console and gives me an awkward pat on the shoulder. “You’re a good kid, Ryler. I’m proud to have you working with me.” He withdraws to put his gun in the holster.

Doc doesn’t appear to know I’ve been working with Brooks, but I can’t shake the terrifying thought out of my head that Brooks could be dead, and I could be next.

Fuck! I hope Brooks had time to run, but would it even do any good if he did? Elderman’s a powerful man with a lot of connections. Tracking down someone is extremely easy for him.

“The other reason I called you here tonight is that I’d like for you to do me a favor.” Doc reaches for the door handle. “Keep an extra eye on Emery over the weekend. Don’t let her out of your sight, and by no means are you in any way to take her out.”

A slow breath eases from my mouth. “I’m really sorry about that. I messed up big time.”

“Yes, you did, but I know it wasn’t your fault. I know for a fact my daughter asked you to take her out.” When I start to shake my head, he raises his hand in front of him. “Ryler, watch what you say. I always, always know what’s going on in my daughter’s life. No more arguing. It’s clear you’re not remembering that night clearly.”

I rack my brain for what happened the night Emery and I decided to go out, and a thought occurs to me. Before I decided to take Emery out the other night, she’d asked to get out of the house. In reality, it was my fault we left, but she suggested it first. But how in the hell could Doc know that? The only two people who heard her say it were me and Emery herself.

“I need you to do one more thing for me,” Doc says, opening the door. “I need you to convince Emery to come back home. She’s not doing well out on her own, but she’s too stubborn to see that.”

“I don’t think she’ll listen to me.” Plus, I talked to Emery enough before all shit hit the fan that I understand she’s not fond of the home she grew up in.

“Make her listen to you,” he presses. “Convince her that her life is at risk. Not only is she ruining the life her mother and I built for her, but the people who left her that note today are a real threat.”

“That note today? Did she get a new one?”

He nods, glancing at his watch. “Just after school. In fact, she should be calling to tell me at any moment.” He climbs out of the car but then ducks his head back into the cab. “Make her listen to you, Ryler.”

“I’ll try.”

What I really want to know, though, is how in the hell he knows Emery received a note when she hasn’t told him.

I think of the last thing Brooks said to me. They’re watching me.

“Change her mind, Ryler. Convince her to come home,” Doc urges. “No matter what lie it takes. Tell her she’ll get killed if she doesn’t.”

“But isn’t her life in danger already? I mean, whoever is sending her those notes wants her dead, right?” At least, that’s what he’s been telling me.

He angles his head to the side, muses over something, and then starts to shut the door. “The only person that’s a danger to Emery is Emery herself.”

I lean over the console and sign, “What does that mean?”

Without answering, he shuts the door then crosses the parking lot toward the dimly lit bar, whistling a Johnny Cash song. Only when he vanishes out of my sight does the oxygen fully return to my lungs.

What did he mean Emery puts herself in danger? Is he simply referring to the fact that she won’t return home? Or is there something more to it than that?

I’m kind of crazy. Did you know that? Did my father tell you? Emery said those words to me at the concert. I hadn’t thought too much about it at the time, chalked it up to her being drunk, but I’m starting to wonder if maybe her parents think she’s crazy and have somehow convinced her that she is.

I shake the thought from my head. I’m getting off track.

Even though it takes a lot of effort, I grab my “personal” phone from inside my boot and send Stale a text.

Me: Brooks is in trouble. They found out about him.

I strangle the shit out of the steering wheel while my heart rate settles. When Stale doesn’t text back, I slide the phone back into my boot and focus on driving toward home. It’s late enough that most of the stores are closed and the streets are fairly desolate. It gives me the sense that I’m alone in the city, and I let the ease of the feeling sink in, wishing I could grasp onto it.

By the time I park the car at my apartment complex, Stale has responded to my text. I fetch it out of my boot, and the inner peace I felt while driving dissipates.

Stale: Don’t worry about him. We got him out in time, but we had to pull him out before he could get an exact location on the warehouse.

Me: Where is he?

Stale: I can’t tell you that. It’s confidential.

I’m not positive I entirely believe him. Stale knows that I spook easily, so I think he keeps a lot of stuff from me because of that. If Brooks has been caught by Donny Elderman, Stale might be worried I’ll bail if I find out.

Me: U know they’ll find him even if he runs.

Stale: That’s not for you to worry about. You just need to focus on the warehouse. Have you gotten anywhere with Emery?