The Limit Read Online Free Page B

held on for what seemed like a really long time.
    Eventually we made it to the country club, Mom driving calmly and not breaking any traffic laws. We searched the parking lot but couldn’t find Dad’s car.
    “We missed him.” Mom pressed harder on the gas. “I bet he’s back at the office by now.”
    During the next hour we drove back and forth between the country club and Dad’s office, stopping to check out a restaurant Dad might have taken a client to whenever we saw one. Karlene stopped answering our phone calls, and I was surprised we didn’t fill Dad’s cell phone voice mail.
    “Where is he?” Mom kept asking.
    “Let’s just go home,” I said. “Maybe he’s there.”
    “It’s too early,” she said. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure the girls weren’t paying attention. Abbie had fallen asleep, and Lauren was deep into texting. “I’m afraid to go home without him.”
    “Let’s go back to his office and wait,” I said. “We can’t keep driving around. You’ve probably used up a week’s worth of our gas allotment already.”
    Mom’s phone rang. She tried to grab it out of my hand, but I switched it to my far ear as I clicked it on.
    “Hello?”
    “Hey, Matt. What’s up?”
    “Dad!”
    “William!” Mom let out such a big sigh of relief she could have filled a hot air balloon. I put the cell on speakerphone and held it up so Mom and Dad could talk.
    “You guys seem a bit overeager to get in touch with me today. So what’s the big news?” Dad’s joking manner instantly put everyone at ease.
    Except for Mom. She started crying. “We went over the limit at the store today. How could this happen, William? Didn’t you say you were getting a deposit this morning from one of your clients?”
    Dad’s voice went ice cold. “Yes. I’ll have Karlene find out what the glitch was. This has to be a mistake.”
    “I need you to come home right now,” said Mom.
    “Why?” he asked.
    “Did you get a message from anyone besides us this afternoon?” she asked.
    “Just a minute.” We heard electronic beeps as Dad scanned his messages. “Yes. Here’s one.”
    “Put us on hold and listen to it.”
    All went silent in the car. When Dad came back, his voice was as somber as when he spoke at my grandfather’s funeral two years ago. “I’ll get there as fast as I can.”
    “We’re fifteen minutes from home,” said Mom. “Are you at the office?”
    “Yes. I’m leaving now. I’ll be five minutes behind you.”
    For the first bit of the drive I asked Mom a bunch of questions—Lauren broke away from her phone long enough to ask a few too—but Mom never answered. She just shook her head and said she couldn’t talk. Eventually we gave up. We drove the rest of the way in silence.
    “Oh, my,” said Mom as we turned the corner onto our street. “I didn’t think they’d arrive so quickly. I thought we’d have time to call someone . . . to do something.”
    “Who?” I asked. Before I finished saying the word, I noticed the shiny black limo sitting in front of our house. The windows—even the front ones—were tinted too dark to see inside. “Do you know whoit is?” I made my voice sound stronger than I felt. Mom didn’t answer. Slowing the car, she pulled into our driveway.
    Abbie, awake again, bounced around like a rubber ball in the backseat. “Who is it, Mommy?”
    Lauren sat rigid in her seat. Her arms made a tight X across her chest, and her eyebrows made a V in the middle of her forehead.
    Mom didn’t pull into the garage but stopped in the driveway underneath the basketball hoop.
    She gave my thigh a tense squeeze. “Whatever happens, remember I love you. We’re going to fix it.”
    “What’s going to happen?” I asked, fumbling to unbuckle my seat belt.
    She shot a glance at the limo, rubbing her lips together so hard her lipstick smudged. Heaving a deep sigh, she sagged against the headrest and closed her eyes. “I wish your father were here.” After a few