Philips (Sequel to De Santa)

Chapter Twenty Five

"One lock plate and two extra long screws," the cashier smiled. "That'll be $8.54." I grabbed my wallet and handed the cashier a ten dollar bill, waiting patiently as they got my change. "$1.46 is your change, have a good night."

"Thanks, you too." I put my change away and grabbed my bag before heading to my car. The sun was still up, hiding behind some clouds that were rolling in, threatening the possibility of rain. The drive home was quiet, but something felt off. Maybe it was just guilt for going off on Dad or for leaving the party. Maybe it was just my conflicting feelings I had for Trevor demanding to be sorted out.

I knew Trevor made me happy, but after everything I've been through with not only him, but Matt too, I wasn't sure if I'd be able to trust anyone to get that close for a while. I wanted to, but my stomach churned at the thought of it.

I pulled up to the house and quietly exited my car, locking it behind me. As I made my way towards the gate, two men approached me, causing me to freeze. "Who are you?" I asked.

"We need you to come with us," one man responded. I looked towards the house, debating to run, knowing they wouldn't be able to hear me scream over the music.

"It's in your best interest to do as we say," the other man added. A small limo slowly pulled up to the house, I held my breath with worry, remembering the car that pulled up to Burger Shot the day Lamar was killed. The door slowly opened and I released my breath in a big sigh.

"Get in," Martin Madrazo spoke up, but I didn't move. "That wasn't a request."

"I have to get back inside...my dad will worry." The two men quickly grabbed me by my arms and shoved me inside the limo, climbing in after me before slamming the door shut. The limo instantly took off and the music from my house quickly faded in the distance.

"So, Miss De Santa, it has come to my attention that you and Matthew are no longer dating."

"Y-Yes, that is correct."

"Shame."

"I'm sorry, but did you kidnap me to talk me into getting back with him?"

"Oh, please, if you were being kidnapped, you'd know. Besides, I don't care what happens in my bastard son's love life. It is, as they say, not my business. However...what is my business is you."

"Me?"

"Yes. See, you know a lot about my business, more than I am comfortable with, Miss De Santa."

"So does my dad."

"Yes, I am aware. However, he is a criminal and you are not. He has just as much to lose if he talks."

"I swear, I won't tell anyone. I never intended to. What you do is your business, not mine."

"Exactly, it's my business. I can't have any lose ends, Miss De Santa, I hope you understand." Martin snapped his fingers and one of the men who grabbed me reached under the seat and handed Martin a briefcase. Martin rested it on his lap and slowly opened it. My heart was pounding in my chest. Was he going to kill me? Without another word, Martin closed the briefcase and handed it to me, giving me a nod.

Slowly, with trembling fingers, I unclasped the the latches as a million scenarios ran through my head. What if this was another Davis case? Would I find photos of someone being tied up? Would there be a severed limb inside it? I carefully opened the briefcase and paused. "I-I don't understand," I stammered.

"What is there to not understand?" Martin asked.

"I-I was expecting a threat of some kind, not..."