Blood Ties by Victoria Rice Page B

moved into a handstand. I rotated around, lowered my legs, then dropped my feet to the floor. Freakin’ amazin’.
    “I made it. Meet me at the back door.”
    I fumbled around in the darkness, looking for a way out, burping up pizza and beer. The door was unlocked. Thank God. It would have taken me a half hour to jimmy it in my state. I quietly opened the door and tiptoed in a squiggly line down the hall, seeing my way by red emergency lights. I wasn’t going to be walking any straight lines tonight.
    To my right and left were framed composites. I made my way up a set of stairs then to the back door and opened it. They slid in and followed me down to the basement. We split up and hunted for the most recent composite, the only one worth stealing. It wasn’t there. They must keep it somewhere up on the main level.
    We went back up stairs with Parker leading. We went from room to room hunting by moonlight and a small lamp that had been left on in the foyer.
    “Hey Liz, we found it.”
    “Can you yell any louder,” I hissed. I heard a door close and I plastered myself up against a door and the others went silent. We waited for a few minutes then I went to help them pull it off the wall. We carried it to the back door, banging it on walls a couple of times, giggling and speaking in loud whispers.
    Once outside , we slunk around to the side of the house. Dylan signalled to Jeff but then suddenly held up his fist. We crouched in the bushes. A cop car did a slow drive by.
    “Shiiittt, look at that.” I pointed across the street.
    “ Fuckin’ Darth van.” Jen grabbed the back of my arm. “Ya gotta another one.” Ever since I’d told her about the guy who followed me around like paparazzi in high school, making my life a living hell until I beat the shit out of him, she’d seen one behind every tree.

“What makes you think it’s stalkin’ on me?”
    “History and bad karma.”
    “What the hell do you mean by that?”
    “ Whaaaatttt?” She gave me half confused look. I shook my head. Bad move, my brain did a “slow-mo-slosh” movement to either side of my skull. God. Tomorrow was going to be hell – no strike that – today. It had to be at least 4 a.m.
    “ Who’s it?” whispered Parker.
    “The van from the bar. We think its Mick and Eddie.”
    “Jesuuus, they followed us?”
    Logan piped up, “They’re having sec’ thoughts of dumpin’ you guys.”
    “Yeah, huh sure,” said Jen.
    Logan hitched his head and he and Parker took off across the lawn towards the van motioning for Jeff to follow them.
    Dylan threw his hands up and mouthed, “What the hell are they doing?”
    I shrugged.
    They were within twenty feet of the van when it suddenly took off. They stood watching it go, talking quietly. Jeff went back to his post and the boys ran back across the lawn.
    Dylan slunk back to join us . “What’s going on?”
    Parker wiped the sweat from his face as he caught his breath. “The creeps from the bar followed us.”
    “ We couldn’t see who was inside,” Logan added.
    They both seemed pretty excited. Probably hoping for a little fist-pumping action.
    Parker pulled out his cell phone.
    “Who ya callin’?”
    “911.” He pulled away when we tried to grab his phone. “Hey, I just saw this van weaving down the middle of Greenway. I think it’s a drunk driver.”
    We broke out into grins and smacked his fist.
    “No, there weren’t any plates … Black Ford cargo van … sure, no problem. Any time.”
    He hung up and grinned. “Problem solved.”
    Dylan moved forward and gave us the all clear. Jeff walked casually out onto the street and popped the trunk and in less than thirty seconds we had stuffed the picture in the trunk and piled into the car. We drove out to an all-night truck stop, famous for their cinnamon rolls and coffee.
    “Let’s circulate a rumor that the Betas have it.”
    “Yeah, let’s,” Logan growled. “Their president’s on my socc’ team. Total a’hole.”
    “Since