by Willow Rose
Was that really Yossi I had seen?
I wasn’t sure.
I slowed my rental car down and let it come to a stop while a million thoughts rushed through my mind.
Then, I made a U-turn and drove back, stepping on the accelerator. My tires screeched on the asphalt as I took the turn up the narrow street back toward the farmhouse. In the distance, I could see that the silver-gray car had stopped right in front of it, in front of the house where I had seen Kimmie and Tristan. And the person with the red cap got out and rushed up toward the porch.
Oh, dear Lord, no!
I raced up the narrow road while watching Yossi stride toward the stairs. He then pulled a gun and shot one of the guards who had come out and was sitting by the door, quickly and without even wincing.
The way only an assassin could.
I jumped in my seat, my heart bouncing in my throat. I was too late, wasn’t I? Just because I hadn’t been certain when I saw him, just because I had to stop and think before I drove back, I had killed them all. Why couldn’t I just have reacted faster? Why couldn’t I have trusted my instinct?
Yossi kicked the door open and fired another shot. I screamed inside my car when seeing it, then closed my eyes in fear as more shots fell.
Please! No!
Tears streamed across my cheeks as the realization sank in, and I once again opened my eyes to look. As I did, my eyes fell on something moving behind the farmhouse, two bodies rushing across the empty field next to it, huddling together.
Tristan and Kimmie!
I could barely believe my eyes. They had to have somehow snuck out the back of the house when Yossi entered and started shooting. I acted quickly this time and hit the accelerator hard. Meanwhile, Yossi had come out of the house, and I could now see him lifting his gun and firing a shot.
“No, you don’t!” I screamed inside my car as I rushed toward the low picket fence in front of me. I raced the car straight through it, pieces of white fence flying in the air around me, then drove onto the grass field, bumping toward Tristan and Kimmie, who were running for their lives, ducking as the shots were fired behind them. They heard my car as I smashed through the fence, then stopped and stared as I raced up on their side and waved like a crazy woman while rolling down the window and unlocking the doors, signaling for them to get in. Kimmie didn’t think twice. She grabbed the handle in the back and pulled the door open, then pushed her son inside. Tristan tumbled into the back seat, and I told him to keep his head down.
“Hurry! Get in!” I yelled at Kimmie as I spotted Yossi coming up behind them, running across the grass. I could see the coldness in his eyes as he lifted the gun again, aimed at Kimmie’s back while she struggled to get in.
A shot was fired, and Kimmie screamed. She fell flat onto the backseat.
I looked at Yossi as he stood still for a few seconds, then grabbed for his chest, where blood was gushing out. Then I looked down at my own hand and the gun I had instinctively pulled from my purse, then fired.
Tristan reached over and pulled the door closed while I stepped on it once again, and the car bumped back onto the road, leaving no trace of us behind except for the dust lingering in the air.
Part IV
Three days later
Chapter 49
“You have to call the school. They’re calling every day.”
My mom was annoyed on the other end. I could tell by the way she breathed heavily between words.
“You missed the meeting with the principal,” she continued, and I could hear in her tone that she wanted to add, who does that? What kind of a mother doesn’t come when the principal wants to talk to you about your child?
I knew how my mother felt, and I understood why she felt that way because I hadn’t told her what I was doing or why I hadn’t returned. How could I? I’d only endanger her as well as my children. It was better that she didn’t know anything at all.
We had been hiding for three days and not told a soul what was happening. I hadn’t even called Isabella to let her know that I was with Kimmie and her son. I couldn’t get the thought out of my mind that somehow they had a leak in the FBI. How else did Yossi keep showing up? How did he know where to find Kimmie? How did he even know she was alive? I wasn’t taking any chances.
I had gotten rid of my cell phone and thrown it in the trash close to the farmhouse in case they tried to track us down that way—if they were tapping my home phone. I had planned ahead and brought a big pile of cash just in case. I had bought a bunch of burner phones that I used to call home twice a day, checking on the kids. I used a new one every time just to be safe, and I drove away from the motel where we were staying, so they wouldn’t be able to find us by the cell tower the call went through.
As I said, I wasn’t taking any chances.
“It’s gonna be okay, Mom. Just tell them I’m out of town, and I will hopefully be back soon. I’ll meet with him once I get back.”
My mom snorted. “I’ve already arranged a meeting with the principal tomorrow. I’ll go and talk to him and try to sort things out, now that you refuse to be an adult and take care of your son’s school.”
I went quiet. I was kind of relieved since the last thing I could think about right now was what kind of trouble my son had gotten himself into, but at the same time, I felt so guilty it almost ate me up.
“When will you be home?” my mom asked.
“I can’t say yet,” I said. “It might be a few more days. At least.”
“A few more days?” my mom said. “You can’t be serious, Eva Rae. I have a life too, you know. You can’t just expect me to throw out everything I have planned every time you need to go away…”
“Mom, I wouldn’t ask this of you if it weren’t important. You know this.”
She went quiet, then grumbled. “Okay, then. I’ll stay for a couple more days if it’s really that important.”
“It is,” I said with a relieved sigh. “Thanks, Mom. Kiss the kids for me. I’ll call again later and say goodnight.”
I hung up, then stared at the burner phone before taking out the battery and throwing it in the trash bin next to me. Then I got back inside the car and took off. I drove for a few minutes down the street before I spotted the sign of the small motel where we were staying for the night. Kimmie and Tristan were waiting inside the room. Tomorrow, we’d be in a new motel in a new town. That had been our lives for the past few days.
As I said, I wasn’t taking any chances.
Chapter 50
THEN:
“That’s an excellent story, Sam.”
Jacob, who was the editor of the day, looked at her from above his glasses. Everyone in the conference room nodded in agreement, even the older journalists, who usually didn’t give Samantha the time of day since she was, after all, nothing but an intern.
She had just presented her story, the one she had been working on for two weeks, putting in more hours than what seemed humanly possible. It was the story of the mayor of Washington, Peter Bounik, and how he had raked in half a million dollars from consultants who he then helped attain lucrative contracts with the city.
“I say it’s so good we run it as today’s top,” Jacob added. “And Samantha will finish it and see her own byline in the news tonight.”
Samantha couldn’t breathe. She stared at him, barely able to swallow. The top story? Tonight’s top story?
Had she heard him right?
If so, then that had never happened to an intern before. She felt like she could explode with excitement. It was way more than what Sam had dared to hope for. All she had the nerve to dream of was researching it, and then maybe one of the older journalists would take over and make sure it was aired. She would know it was her story while he’d get the credit, but that was usually how these things went—especially with a story as big as this.
“Are you sure about this?” Mitt Paige, the anchor, said, leaning forward. “I mean, no offense to Sam, who is and will be a great journalist, but to take a
chance on an intern? For tonight’s top story?”
Jacob sent him a smile, then folded his hands on top of his papers. “I know what I’m doing, Mitt. Sam here will prove to us what she’s made of.”
Sam felt how she almost grew ten inches taller as all eyes were on her. She most certainly would prove to Jacob that she was worth him taking a chance on her. He was not going to regret it.
Just as Sam thought this to herself, the door to the conference room opened, and someone walked inside. As he did, the room fell silent. Sam lifted her gaze and felt her heart drop. Julianna, another intern sitting next to her, leaned over and whispered:
“What’s Wanton doing here?”
Sam stared at him, feeling her face flush as their eyes met, and she saw nothing but coldness in his.
“Carry on,” he said, addressed to Jacob. He closed the door behind him, then leaned against the wall while observing them. Sam didn’t dare to look up and see if he was looking at her or not. It felt like he was.
“O-okay,” Jacob said. “We were just talking about today’s top story, researched by our very bright intern, Samantha over here,” Jacob said and smiled at her, looking almost like a proud dad. “And how we have decided to let her finish the story and get her name on the screen tonight. We were also talking about letting her do a live following her report. She has such a pretty face that deserves to be on television.”
Samantha lowered her eyes as Wanton turned to look at her while Jacob told him the story's details. She felt his eyes scrutinizing her and felt sick to her stomach. A long silence followed—one that made her want to scream.
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Wanton then said.
“Excuse me?” Jacob said.
Wanton shook his head. “I’m sure Samantha here is an excellent journalist, but she isn’t ready for a story like that. It’s too big for her. I say Irene finishes it. She’ll do it the justice it deserves.”
“But…I…” Sam burst out, but then stopped herself.
Wanton’s eyes felt like knives of ice on her body.
“Yes?”
“It’s just that…I worked hard on it, sir, and I know I can finish it.”
Their eyes locked, and she felt like she had to throw up. His were harsh and angry, and like he couldn’t hate her more. It made her feel so small.
He shook his head with a tsk. “Yeah, I don’t think so. You’re only an intern. Learn to know your place.”
With that, he turned around and left. Sam sat there, feeling herself blush with anger and humiliation.
“Sorry, Sam,” Jacob said on their way out after the meeting had ended. “I know you could do it, but Wanton is my boss. There really isn’t anything else I can do.”
She left the conference room and walked to her computer to get all her research ready to hand over to Irene, who would get the entire credit for this story of a lifetime. She sat down with a deep sigh, pressing back tears when a private message appeared on her screen.
It was from Wanton.
YOU NEED TO BE CAREFUL.
She stared at it, her heart hammering in her chest. What was this? What was he trying to tell her?
She wrote back:
WHY?
A pause followed before the answer came:
YOU WOULDN’T WANT ANYONE TO KNOW WHAT YOU’VE BEEN UP TO.
Sam stared at the words, unable to focus properly. She didn’t like the sound of what he was saying. What she had been up to? Did he mean with him? That they had been together? Was that what he was saying she had to be careful of? That no one found out? Or what was he talking about?
WHAT DO YOU MEAN?
Another message appeared right away:
WE NEED TO MAKE SURE THERE’S A JOB FOR YOU HERE WHEN YOU’RE DONE, RIGHT?
Sam could barely breathe as she looked at the screen. What on earth was all this? Was he threatening her to keep silent? Was he saying that if anyone found out she had been with him, then she wouldn’t be able to get a job?
She sank back in her chair, feeling suddenly scared. Had she ruined her own chances by sleeping with the boss? Was this going to cling to her for the rest of her career? Had she ruined everything for herself before it had even begun?
Chapter 51
“How long are we going to live like this?”
Kimmie glared at me across the car. We had left the rental car on the side of the road back in Sykesville and then hitched-hiked to the nearest town, where I had found a car dealer that sold me an old beat-up Dodge Caravan for six hundred dollars cash. It didn’t run well and wasn’t going to last us more than a couple of weeks, but it was cheap and untraceable, so it was the way to go. Now, we were scrambling along the road, old fast-food bags on the floors, half-drunken sodas in the cup holders. The seats were greasy and sticky, and it was freezing inside the van since the heat didn’t work.
I looked at Kimmie. We had been on the run for four days now and living in tight spaces, constantly looking over each other’s shoulders. It was driving us all nuts.
“I mean, what’s your plan, Eva Rae?” she continued with a deep groan. “You must have a plan of some sort, right?”
I didn’t. But I couldn’t really admit to that. For now, the plan was to keep them both safe. The trial was three days away, and Wanton had to be desperate to get rid of Kimmie by now. If I could keep her alive until the trial started, then maybe we had a chance. But no, I didn’t have a plan, not a detailed one at least.
“We are going to spend the night at a Motel 6 tonight,” I said and took a right turn. “That’s the plan.”
“You don’t have any plan, do you?” Kimmie said and looked out the window. “I can’t stand living like this.”
“At least you get to sleep in a bed at night,” I said. “You’re lucky I always bring a stash of cash for emergencies like these. Otherwise, they would be breathing down your neck by now.”
“I hate those lousy motels,” she said. “I hate them. They’re so dirty and filled with bugs, and ugh. I can’t stand the noisy AC that keeps turning off and on all night. It wakes me up constantly. I need a good night’s sleep!”
I exhaled, then stopped at a red light. A police car drove past us on the other side, then turned down a smaller road. My heart skipped a beat as it did every time I saw one. We couldn’t trust anyone at this point if someone from inside the FBI was involved.
“Listen, Kimmie. This isn’t exactly my ideal situation either. Up until a few weeks ago, I dreamed of seeing you dead. Every waking hour of the day, I wanted to kill you myself for what you did to me. And now, I’m trying to save your sorry butt while my family is missing me at home. Do you think I want to be here?”
She turned to face me, then looked down at her fingers. “No. Of course not. I…I just get so frustrated because I feel like…well, I keep thinking I should just have kept my mouth shut. I should never have told you the truth about what happened in that apartment. If I hadn’t, then I wouldn’t be in this screwed-up situation right now. I would be at home with my son, living our normal lives. I keep asking myself, why did I have to do it? Why couldn’t I just have lied?”
The light turned green, but I didn’t go. I stared at her, mouth open.
“Because you have an obligation,” I said. “A responsibility to Samantha and so many other women. If you didn’t speak up, no one would be able to stop Wanton. He’d just continue on and on screwing with people’s lives. He’s a bastard, and we both know it. You think he only did what he did to you? That he only treated you that way? Asking you to sleep with him in exchange for a job? Then, you are very naïve. He’s most likely done the same to many others who didn’t dare to speak up. And he will continue if no one dares to take a risk as you have. You have a responsibility to speak up for the coming generation’s sake. So these things won’t happen again. That’s why you did it. And that’s why I’m keeping you alive, so you can do it again once the trial starts. I’m not concerned about your life, but for my daughters’ sake. I want them
to grow up in a better world than we did. Will it be easy? No. No one said it would be. It doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have done it.”
Kimmie stared at me, eyes wide, tears welling up.
“Now, I won’t hear you complain one more time, or I will leave you to guys like Yossi; do you hear me?”
Kimmie never answered. She turned her head away and became quiet the rest of the way to the motel.
Chapter 52
He walked in on her, sitting at his laptop in his office. John saw the empty bottle of white wine on the desk in front of her and the glass in her hand and knew she was in a bad state. Carol looked up at him, her eyes unfocused.
He slammed the door shut behind him.
Carol jumped, startled.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
She shook her head, then finished her glass of wine.
“You bastard.”
John rubbed his forehead intensely, preparing himself for this, trying to remain calm. His anger had been one of the issues he had to work on when trying to save his marriage, but it was easier said than done. He stepped forward.
“Carol, you’re not feeling well. Let me get you to bed. Come.”
He reached out for her hand, but she pulled it away with an angry snort. “You can’t keep doing this to me. Do you hear me?”
“Please, Carol. You’ve been drinking. Let’s talk in the morning. I have a ton of work I need to get done before bedtime.”
That made Carol laugh. It was a mocking laugh that soon turned into sad sobbing. “You have work to do, huh? Let me guess. For Wanton, huh? Do you have to do work for your little boyfriend, huh?”
“Let me get you to bed, Carol, before you say something you’ll regret tomorrow. We talked about this. We shouldn’t have these conversations when you’ve been drinking. We can talk about it in the…”
