Chapter 1

Marcus licked his fingers clean and leaned back in his chair like he'd just had the best meal of his life.

"Jade, I swear to God," he said, shaking his head. "This is the best damn ribs in all of Texas. That melt-in-your-mouth texture? It's like eating butter."

I smiled at him. "Thanks, Marcus."

The other customers nodded their agreement. Mrs. Henderson from the post office, the Johnson brothers who worked at the auto shop, even Tommy who never tipped but always came back. They all loved my ribs.

If only they knew.

My stomach turned and I swallowed hard. Not now. Can't think about it now.

"Same time tomorrow?" Marcus stood up, adjusting his police uniform.

"I'll save you some," I said.

He waved and headed to his patrol car. The others followed slowly, like they didn't want to leave. By the time the last customer disappeared around the corner, my face hurt from smiling.

I started wiping down tables, moving on autopilot. The physical work kept my mind busy, kept me from thinking about what was sitting in the kitchen right now.

"Jade!"

I looked up. Sean was jogging toward me, still in his scrubs from the hospital. His shift must've run late again.

"Hey Sean."

"Please tell me you have ribs left." He was breathing hard. "I've been craving them all day."

My eyes flicked to the kitchen window. Behind the counter, covered with a dish towel, sat one takeout box. The last one.

"Sorry Sean," I said, not meeting his eyes. "Sold out today. Come earlier tomorrow, okay?"

"Damn." His shoulders dropped. "Alright, I'll try. Have a good night."

"You too."

I watched him walk away, hands shoved in his pockets. Nice guy. Good neighbor. He didn't deserve me lying to his face, but I couldn't give him those ribs. They weren't for him.

I waited until his car turned the corner. Then I went inside, grabbed the takeout box, and locked up the shop.

The drive to the trailer took twenty minutes. Twenty minutes of Texas flatland stretching out on both sides of the highway, nothing but scrub brush and the occasional dead armadillo. I turned onto a dirt road that probably didn't even have a name. The trailer sat at the end, rusted and forgotten, surrounded by weeds that came up to my knees.

Herman's piece-of-shit home.

I pushed open the door without knocking. The hinges screamed. He was waiting for me, feet propped up on the coffee table, cigarette dangling from his mouth. The single lightbulb overhead swayed slightly, making shadows dance across his wrinkled face.

"There she is." He grinned, showing yellow teeth. "Right on time."

I set the box on the table and didn't say anything.

Herman opened it immediately and grabbed a rib with both hands. He tore into it like a starving animal, grease dripping down his chin. The sounds he made turned my stomach. I looked away while he finished three ribs in under five minutes. Then he picked his teeth with a bone splinter and leaned back, satisfied.

"Now," he said. "Let's talk business."

Here we go.

"Little lady, we need to discuss money."

"I gave you two thousand last week," I said. My voice came out flat. "Just like we agreed. Every month, two thousand dollars."

Herman laughed. It sounded like gravel in a blender.

"Plans change, sweetheart." He pulled out his phone and waved it at me. "See, I've been thinking. Two thousand a month? That's chump change. I got expenses."

"We had a deal."

"And now we got a new deal." He swiped through his phone and turned the screen toward me. "50,000 dollars. One time payment."

My hands clenched into fists.

"I got photos, Jade." There I was on the screen, coming out of the trailer, going in, carrying boxes. "I also got all those nice electronic transfers you been making. Monthly payments, same amount, same time. You think the cops won't find that interesting?"

The air in the trailer felt too thick, too hot. I couldn't breathe right.

"You think Sheriff Marcus would still call your ribs the best in Texas if he knew?" Herman's smile got wider. "What about all those nice customers? Think they'd keep coming?"

I could kill him right here. Right now. Wrap my hands around his throat and squeeze until—

"I need time," I said instead.

"Three days." He stubbed out his cigarette on the arm of his chair. "Three days, you bring me cash. Or I make a call to Marcus. Your choice."

I turned and walked out. Didn't trust myself to stay any longer.

The highway stretched out in front of me, empty and dark. My headlights cut through the blackness but they didn't reach far enough. My hands gripped the steering wheel so tight my knuckles had gone white. I could still see Herman's face, that yellow smile, those greedy eyes.

50,000 dollars.

I didn't have 50,000 dollars. Every penny I made went back into the business or into Herman's pocket. There was nothing left.

I lit a cigarette with shaking hands and took a long drag. The nicotine didn't help. My mind kept spinning. Mom's face flashed through my head, the way she looked at me before she died. Then Herman's laugh. Then all those customers lining up outside my shop, waiting for ribs they thought were the best in Texas.

If they only knew what they were eating.

The thought made me sick, but not sick enough to stop. I'd come too far, built too much. I couldn't let some old bastard take it all away.

Another image: Herman's hands ripping into those ribs, his mouth full of meat, his threats. He'd never stop. Even if I paid him 50,000 this time, he'd come back for more. And more. And more. Until there was nothing left of me or my business.

Unless I stopped him first.

My cigarette had burned down to the filter. I crushed it in the ashtray and stared at the road ahead. Still dark, still empty. Just me and my thoughts and the hum of the engine.

With him bleeding me dry forever... it's better to end this.