Free Ferocity Summer by Alissa Grosso Page A

adjusted the rear-view mirror so he could steal glimpses of me for the duration of the five-minute ride. Where the hell did Andrea find these guys, anyway?

    â€œWhat are you doing home?” my mother asked.
    â€œI quit my job. What’s your excuse?”
    â€œI’m covering the night shift,” she said. “And exactly what do you plan on doing with your life if you can’t stick with one lousy job?”
    â€œMaybe I don’t plan on spending my life behind a cash register.”
    â€œWell, you better figure out some way to bring in some money.”
    â€œI’ve got another opportunity I’m looking into.”
    I went to my room and slammed the door so I wouldn’t have to listen to her bitch.
    Two seconds later, she pounded on the door. “You had a phone call, before. I took a message.”
    I opened the door, and accepted the scrap of paper. All it said was “Bill,” with a phone number. I didn’t know anyone named Bill. I thought it might be Joe Bullock crank-calling me, but the number had an out-of-town exchange.
    I picked up the phone and dialed.
    â€œWho is this?” the voice on the other end demanded. I hesitated. I considered hanging up, but decided I didn’t have all that much to lose.
    â€œThis is Scilla Davis. Are you Bill?”
    â€œYeah. Listen, I need to talk to you about Randy Jenkins, but not over the phone. Do you think we could arrange to meet?”
    What the hell was going on? Since when had Randy Jenkins become the big shit of the universe? It was unnerving and strange. I found myself more intrigued by Randy than I had ever been before.
    â€œWho do you work for?” I asked.
    â€œNo one. That is, I have a personal interest in the matter.”
    â€œHow’d you get my number?”
    â€œI found it in some of Randy’s things. Please, I’d rather not discuss anything further over a telephone line.”
    â€œOkay,” I said. “I’ll meet you.”
    Somewhere in the distant past, a tired and bedraggled Army of the Potomac was exacting fiery revenge on the rebel South. A West Point–educated general who’d always wanted to make something of his life was coming face-to-face with his destiny. Back here in the real world, I was assembling my own ragtag army. In a few months I’d be fighting for my life, and I began to see a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance I might taste victory. How far would I go for that chance at victory? What would I do? Anything it took.

The Next Day
    G od,” Andrea said when I got into her car. “This is so cool.” I hadn’t given her all the specifics, only that I was supposed to meet this guy and needed a ride. Any mention of the opposite sex and Andrea was instantly intrigued. “Is this like one of those online dating things? I’ve always wanted to try one of those, but I never have. I mean, it’s so hard to meet guys nowadays.”
    She couldn’t possibly be serious, could she? I looked over at her but she didn’t even crack a smile.
    â€œHe’s a friend of a friend,” I said, which wasn’t entirely a lie.
    â€œOh, well, that’s good then. At least you know he’s not some sort of psychopath.” Actually, I knew no such thing. That’s what made the fact that Bill wanted to meet at his house so disturbing. The fact that he knew Randy only made him less appealing to me.
    Bill’s argument against meeting in a public place was that we might be watched. Although this seemed like a paranoid statement, I knew for a fact that at least one member of law enforcement was keeping a close eye on me. Bill assured me that his place was clean on account of the fact that he checked for bugs on a daily basis, and I’m pretty sure he wasn’t talking about stink bugs. Okay, so the guy possessed more than a healthy amount of paranoia.
    A year ago—or hell, a month ago—I