“Why are you here?” I hissed.

“You wanted my help, right?”

“Yes, but this is where I work!”

“I wanted to see him.”

“I told you, you can’t meet him. My husband doesn’t know about us. He’s a good man. He doesn’t deserve to find out like that.”

The thought of it, Gabe telling Nate he was Josh’s father, triggered a sickening, clammy feeling deep inside me.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

I lifted one shoulder. “I guess I just wanted Josh to have a family. And I knew he wouldn’t get that from you.”

Gabe looked pained by my words. After a minute, he nodded. “I won’t tell your husband. Promise. I just want to meet Josh.”

“No.” I shook my head. “Gabe, I—”

Gabe stood, somehow managing to both lift his chin and glare down his nose at me at the same time. God, he looked like a thumb when he did that. A very hairy thumb.

“Look, sweetheart, you want my help, I want to meet Josh. Arrange it, or I’m out.”

I gritted my teeth. “Fine.”

Gabe sat back down, looking smug. He reached across the table and grabbed the half-eaten ham-and-cheese croissant sitting next to me. He took a massive bite, cheese oozing out the bottom and dribbling down his chin as he chewed. I watched him impassively.

“Have you heard from Ben?” I asked.

“No. You?”

“No.”

Gabe finished the croissant. He grabbed a crumpled napkin from the table and wiped the grease from his mouth.

“She wants to meet you,” he finally said.

“Who?”

“The person who can help you.” He thunked a small black backpack onto the table. “Here’s the money for the scripts you left at the gas station. Cash. There’s five K in there. She’ll give you two thousand dollars per prescription, so she still owes you another five K.”

I did the math quickly in my head. From what I’d read, oxy’s street value was around $45 per pill. There were 120 pills in a bottle, so one prescription could bring in over $5,000. Why was she only offering me $2,000? I would have to sign 50 prescriptions to get enough money to pay the $98,000 for Josh’s reprogrammed cells to be injected. Even with prescription pads for six different doctors, it was far more than I’d wanted to sell.

It was too risky.

“She also has a business proposition for you,” Gabe said.

“I’m listening.” I leaned back and studied him.

Gabe shrugged. “Fuck if I know. Like I said, I’m out. I just know her through a friend. She said she’ll meet you tonight. Midnight. At the old Skamania Mill. And she’ll give you the other five K then.”