Chapter 11 - The Ride to the Ridge
The diner on the edge of town was nearly deserted. The neon sign buzzed through the rain, casting a sickly red glow over the wet gravel lot where Marcus’s black heavy-duty pickup sat idling.
Inside the truck, the heater blew warm air over Toby’s legs. He leaned back against the headrest, clutching a warm cup of hot chocolate that Marcus had bought from the diner counter. Tyler sat in the backseat, silent, staring out the window into the darkness, suffocating under the weight of his own disgrace.
Marcus climbed into the driver’s seat, slamming the heavy door shut against the howling wind. He didn't turn the key right away. Instead, he pulled an envelope from his glovebox, stuffed with thick stacks of hundred-dollar bills—twelve thousand in total.
"Where did you get that?" Tyler asked quietly from the back.
Marcus adjusted the rearview mirror to look his eldest son in the eyes. "From the money I set aside for your college tuition. The fund your mother thought I forgot about."
Tyler flinched as if slapped. "Dad... I can pay you back. I’ll get a job at the mill after school—"
"You won't have time," Marcus interrupted coldly. "Starting tomorrow, when you aren't in school, you're working at my garage. Sweeping floors, cleaning grease traps, changing tires. Every cent you earn goes straight into an account for Toby's medical therapy."
Tyler looked down, his fists clenching the fabric of his jeans. He didn't argue. He had no right to.
"And what about you?" Toby asked Marcus, turning his head slowly. "You're going out to the ridge alone tomorrow?"
"Bishop and Tank will be watching the perimeter," Marcus said, putting the truck into gear and pulling out onto the dark highway. "Wade wants his money. He'll take it and crawl back into his hole."
"He won't," Toby said softly.
Marcus glanced at the boy. "What makes you say that?"
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"When they were looking at Tyler in the school... they weren't just angry about the money," Toby explained, his voice chillingly certain. "They were laughing. Jesse had a piece of paper in his pocket. It had our mother's name on it. My mother's name."
Marcus slammed on the brakes, the tires skidding slightly on the wet asphalt before the heavy truck came to a dead stop in the middle of the empty road.
