Preppy: The Life & Death of Samuel Clearwater, Part Three
Page 2

It was now or never.
With my hand and feet bound I was going to have to roll out of the trunk. It was possible I could be hit by another car or die on impact. I pushed that thought aside and again focused my attention on the only two people in the world who mattered.
I tugged on the loop with all my might.
Nothing happened at first, but when I tried again, pulling and tugging until I felt a blood vessel pop in my neck, the roof above me finally lifted. The warm wind flew in and all around me, blowing my hair into my face. The sultry night air instantly beaded up on my skin.
There was no time to count to ten. No time to think of the consequences. An open trunk wasn’t something that would go unnoticed.
And it didn’t.
The car came to a screeching halt while I was mid-roll, positioned over the rim between bumper and trunk. I went flying into the air, spinning several times over. The flesh on my arms and legs felt as if they were on fire, burning as my skin made contact with the road, dragging against the sharp shell embedded in the asphalt.
When I finally came to a stop, brake lights filled my blurry vision. I heard a car door open followed by the sound of steps on the pavement growing closer and closer.
Preppy
I was talking to King and Bear about the future of the Granny Growhouse operation by the bonfire when Bo came up behind me and pulled on one of my suspenders. “Hey buddy,” I started, stopping when I saw the tears staining his face. I crouched down, so we were eye to eye, dropping my beer onto the grass. He may not have been able to speak, but I never had a problem understanding him, and right then he was telling me that something was very VERY wrong. “Is it Mommy?” I asked, my heart hammering in my chest.
Bo nodded and grabbed my hand, dragging me into the house where a wine bottle was broken on the floor, red wine seeping into every nook and groove, canals of red spread throughout the kitchen.
I hadn’t realized Bear and King had followed until King spoke. “What the fuck happened?”
“I’m not sure, but I know that we gotta fucking go,” I answered. I turned back around to Bo. “Did you see who took her?” I asked as calmly as I could without trying to alarm him more than he already was. Bo shook his head and rubbed his hands all over his face and head. “He wore a mask?” I asked.
Bo nodded and dread pitted in my gut.
“How many?” I asked.
Bo held up one finger.
“Do you know if it was a man or woman?”
Bo grabbed his crotch through his jeans.
“Did you see where they went?” I asked.
Bo shook his head and ran in place.
“Good boy,” I said, pulling him against me for a quick hug. “It’s good you ran.”
I released Bo and ran from the house, across the yard to where the party was still going on like my life wasn’t spiraling out of fucking control, toward King’s tattoo studio where I took the picture off the wall that hid the safe. My hands were shaking as I entered the combination, luckily getting it right on the first try. I started tossing weapons and ammo to King and Bear who tucked and strapped guns and knives to their bodies in record time.
“What’s going on?” a voice asked. I turned to see Dre’s dad standing in the doorway. “What’s all this?”
“Nothing, I’ll explain later,” I snapped through my clenched jaw.
“Son, I’m not stupid,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest in a dad-move that would have been intimidating if I wasn’t me and he wasn’t him.
“I know that, sir,” I said. “But there’s no time. Someone took Dre. That’s all we know. We gotta roll and we gotta roll now.”
“We...we have to call the police...” he started.
Bear interrupted him. “With all due respect, sir, that’s not gonna happen.” His southern drawl dragged out each word as if he were toying with it. “We got our own way of handling things ‘round here. You’re in the dirty south now.”
King tucked a pistol into his pants and grabbed another gun, clicking the clip into place and cocked his gun adding. “We’ll bring her back,” he said confidently.
My friends and I pushed past Dre’s dad. “I don’t know what Dre’s told you about me,” I called over my shoulder as he followed us across the yard to the driveway.
“She’s told me enough, son, and I don’t care. I don’t care about any of it,” he paused. “Just... just go get our girl. Bring her back to me. Whatever it takes.”
“Here, take these,” Thia said, suddenly appearing with the baby strapped to her chest and Ray beside her. Thia reached into her diaper bag and tossed Bear two pistols with pink handles. “Already loaded,” she said. Bear gave both her and the baby a quick kiss on the forehead and jogged over to his bike where he shoved the pistols into his saddlebag.
“Keys,” I called to Doe who didn’t hesitate to toss them to me.
“I’ll watch after Bo,” she said with a sad smile.
King and I jumped into Ray’s truck as the sound of Bear’s bike rumbling to life filled the cab as we took off down the road. I drove while King stuck his head out the passenger seat window, looking at the road for any sign of where Dre might have been taken.
“Do we even know where we’re going?” King asked.
“No, but whoever took her couldn’t have gone too far,” I said. At the end of the road, Bear pulled up alongside us and pointed left, turning that way. I took off in the other direction, pressing my foot on the gas until it hit the floor.
We’d just rounded the corner when we spotted a car parked in the middle of the street. It sped off as we approached, but then something else caught my attention on the road ahead.
No, not something.
Someone.
I slammed my foot on the brake and yanked the wheel to the left. The truck flipped over onto its side. King came crashing against me. As the truck skid across the road, I wasn’t thinking about the metal twisting and crumpling in all around us. My thoughts were on the piles of black hair and pale skin lying in a heap the middle of the road.
I just hoped I hadn’t turned too late.
CHAPTER TWO

Preppy “Well friends,” I started, leaning against the wall in King’s shop. “This is the fun part of the evening where we get to meet and discuss who’s trying to fuck with us and all the ways they need to die.” I unsheathed the knife strapped to my belt and began cleaning it with a rag although it was already spotless and I could see my reflection in the blade.