My mother dropped the bolt of fabric and stepped away from the table. "It's not me you need to apologize to, Vonnie. He is my brother, but he's also your uncle."

And possibly-but highly unlikely-a criminal. I didn't mention that part.

"I don't know how you'll ever mend this," she practically whispered. The words cut through my chest like a hot knife. It hurt worse because she didn't yell. Mom used her disappointed voice. "You never stop to consider who your actions hurt. You've always been selfish like that."

The last bit hit me square in the heart. My mom thought I was selfish. Was I?

"It's not like it happened on a whim, Mom."

"Don't mom me," she said, letting some anger out. She raised one hand in front of her, knocking over the stack of fabrics across the table. "You just barrel through life, only worried about your own goals and what you want. But did you ever stop to think about what I want? Did you?"

She clearly wanted an answer. I looked everywhere but at her when I answered. "No."

"No, that's right. You didn't. Because you know what I wanted, Vonnie? I wanted my brother to not be in jail for a crime he clearly didn't commit."

I restacked the fabric. At least then I did something nice for her. "I'm trying to fix it. Right now, I'm working on clearing his name."

Although, I wasn't sure how that would work since he planned to confess. I hadn't stopped to think it through fully. Truthfully, I never processed what my uncle said in the jail. I just couldn't believe it.

We were related to a drug dealer. Who did he work for? How did he start selling for Pete? I didn't get it.

My mom ripped the fabric from my hands and set it on her side of the table. "I thought I raised you better. I wanted loving daughters filled with compassion. Putting your uncle in jail is not compassionate, Vonnie."

Every time she said my name, my heart clenched in pain. How could she say such things? She really hated me. One minor mistake, and she'd basically thrown me out of the family forever. My uncle was in jail for drug trafficking, but she never questioned his innocence. I was the only screw-up in the family. She made excuses for everyone in the family but me. Uncle Richard even planned to confess! How would she blame me once he did?

"I know. I'm sorry." There wasn't anything else for me to say. She wouldn't listen to it, anyway. Even after Uncle Richard fessed up, I bet she'd still blame me.

"It's too late now. You've already ruined your uncle's life." She shook her head and marched back into the living room. "Work on it for the future and don't put any more of my family in jail."

"You won't listen to me at all?" I tried one more time as we stood by the front door. "He's going-"

"No. Vonnie, stop!" She shook her head-again. She'd done a lot of that since I walked in. "No, and you need to leave so I can get ready for your aunt to be here."

Right, because it was about Claire and not her daughter. Because I sucked as an uncompassionate offspring. I came to see her because I wanted to make things better, but it only made it worse. Just like everything else in my life.

"Right, well." I stopped by the front door and looked back before walking out. "Enjoy your quilting night."

Tears gathered in the corners of my eyes, but I refused to cry them. My mother was hurting, but that didn't mean she should say horrible things to me. She found me selfish. And too focused on my own things. How did she raise me for so many years if she found me this horrible? Did she care what I thought of her?

I repeated her words over and over as I started the drive home and turned before getting there. If I returned now, Broadrick would definitely ask me how it went. No way could I tell him my mother found me inconsiderate without breaking into a fit of tears. Who wanted to date a fuck-up like me? He really would run to Florida and leave me here.

Rather than turn left toward my place, I turned right and headed toward the long road out of town. It wasn't quite dinner time yet, but if drove to Clearwater I'd get a milkshake from the diner to drink away my troubles. That seemed like the more responsible thing to do rather than putting these problems on Broadrick's shoulders. He had an elevator pitch to worry about.

A long black town car pulled onto Main Street behind me. I stopped at the sign by the high school and waited for another car to turn before driving again. The black car continued on without stopping at the sign. They sped up so close their headlights weren't visible in the rearview mirror.

I guess they wanted to get somewhere fast. To give our vehicles some breathing room, I sped up to put more distance between us. They stayed on my tail.

"What the hell, asshole? I'm going ten over the speed limit." This part of the road was a speed trap for the local police. They'd love to write me a ticket if they found me speeding. Then my mother would have another reason to hate me. She'd have to start a list.

I slowed down and pulled to the side of the road to let them pass. If they wanted to risk the ticket, they had to do that on their own. Rather than pass me, the car stayed right on the end of the truck, and as I moved to the side, they cut in toward me.

"What the fuck?" I swerved to miss the attack and sped up to get away. Gravel spat out from Broadrick's tires, pinging off the bottom of his truck. Were they trying to run me off the road or just horrible drivers?

I kept on the gas and watched them in the mirror. They stayed right with me, matching my speed. "Who in the hell?"

We blew past the pelican that greeted people into town with its welcome sign, and I let myself inspect the driver. Two men sat in the front seat of the vehicle. The car had tinted windows, but not completely. Their heads were visible. Well, they would have been if they both weren't wearing black ski masks.

Great. They weren't just horrible drivers but dressers too. Also, they were probably here to kill me.

Just wonderful.

Exactly what I needed right then. More enemies.

We were reaching the end of the road, and I'd have to turn. Left led me out into the country and right toward Clearwater. I didn't want to end up in an empty field with these assholes, so I turned toward Clearwater.

"You don't know who you're messing with," I said, even though they most likely did. It probably wasn't very often someone just randomly picked a car to drive off the side of the road.

I turned on my phone and voice called Broadrick. He answered quickly.

"Hey, babe, so I have a tiny problem," I said rather than hello. My voice shook. Hopefully, he didn't notice the way my voice shook.

I heard noises on his end of the call. "Focus on driving. Ridge clocked both you and the other car on the cameras, and they have a team on the way. But keep your driving steady. Don't let them get you on the shoulder, and don't get out of the truck."

"Right. Got it." I did my best to sound confident, but all I really wanted was a milkshake and a good cry. The speedometer hit eighty, and I kept my gaze out the front window. My hands clutched the steering wheel, holding it steady, and trees blew past the windows. Heartbeats echoed through the truck's chamber along with small rocks dinging off the sides.

A black SUV raced toward me from Clearwater, and I took my first ragged breath when I made the vehicle as one of the security guys. The SUV swerved, spun into a U-turn and waited as I drove past.

In my mind, I raised my hand to give them a quick wave to appear calm and bad ass, but in reality, my hands were firmly on the wheel so I didn't lose control of the truck and die. I'd have to be cool another day.

"I see the SUV," I said, remembering I still had a call with Broadrick going.

He didn't answer.

"Broadrick?" I asked, louder that time. My voice broke and the first sign of tears threatened harder.

Static and then. "I'm here, babe."

"I'm scared," I whispered

More static. He had to be on his bike. "Hold steady. The boys will handle it."

I nodded, even though he couldn't see. My stomach clenched into a tight fist, and I controlled my breathing with shallow breaths. I'd get through this, and I'd get myself that milkshake. Everything would be fine.

The speedometer hit ninety as I passed a side road that led further into norther Maine and eventually out of the country if you made it into Canada. The town car turned. Their tires fish tailed and smoked as they burned rubber to make the turn rather than stay sandwiched between me and the security SUV.