by Jus Accardo
He went to work in silence, wrapping the rope around the cinder blocks and then tying it tight to Shaun’s right leg with a series of intricate-looking knots. I glanced at Shaun, intent on trying to make a break for the woods, but he shook his head. He was right—we’d never even get back to the tree line—but I still almost wanted to try.
After a few moments, Mick stood, apparently satisfied with his work. “My previous threat still stands. I’m going to remove the tape from your mouths so you can speak.” He winked. “Final words and all. Do not scream.”
His fingernails scraped skin as he grabbed the corner of the tape and yanked back hard. My eyes watered and I bit back a yelp. It felt like most of my skin peeled off along with it.
“There’s no reason to do this,” I whispered as he went to remove Shaun’s gag. But Shaun wasn’t so restrained. He cursed under his breath, spitting at the ground by Mick’s feet. “You’re right. I have no idea where the evidence is. And I’ll never go looking for it. I swear.”
Mick rolled up the tape and stuffed it into his back pocket. “I believe you. But this is about more than the evidence. This is about revenge.”
“You killed Melissa,” Shaun spat. “You got your revenge. What could hurting your own daughter possibly do for you?”
He smiled but said nothing.
“He killed Gerald, too,” I added. “Or had him killed. But why? I mean, I get why—he screwed up and let us get away—but why play up a witness and call the cops?”
“You didn’t inherit Melissa’s brains, I see.” He rolled his eyes. “I knew you were looking for me. But I started worrying you’d just give up and go back into hiding. I had to flush you out. Make sure you thought I was your only chance.”
It was actually kind of brilliant. I’d wanted to find him anyway after learning he was my dad, but when Patrick told us about his specialty, and then we saw the news about Gerald… I had felt like he was my only chance. The timing worked out perfectly in his favor.
“Please,” I said. If I had to drop to my knees and beg I would do it. “Just let us go.”
Mick bent to test the knot around Shaun’s leg. He gave it a good pull and a wiggle, then stood to look me in the eye. With an expression of utmost seriousness, he asked, “Tell me, Kayla, what would you do if the person you loved most on this earth betrayed you?”
Mom always told me I could talk my way out of anything. It was time to put that to the test. “You didn’t love her, Mick. If you had, no matter what she’d done, you couldn’t have killed her. But you did. And it doesn’t even matter anymore because it’s over. But I’ve never done anything to you. Killing me won’t hurt her. She’s already gone. So why do it?”
“Maybe because you’re the last remnant of a life I’m trying to forget? Or possibly,” he said with a smile, “because after I shot her, as she lay there dying, I promised her I’d kill you next—and I never break a promise. Then, of course, there’s always the chance that you’ll go back on your word and take the evidence to the police. There are a lot of reasons. I don’t see the point in ticking them all off. They won’t make you feel any better.”
What the hell had my mom ever seen in this nut job? “Shaun has nothing to do with my mom. At least let him go.” I felt horrible about having dragged him into this, but my plea wasn’t entirely selfless. I was hoping if he was freed, he’d pull some of those ninja moves I’d seen him rock on Deeds, and back at the junkyard, and find a way to spare me from taking an icy—and permanent—swim.
Mick laughed. “Oh, I don’t think so. It was a nice try though.” He patted me hard on the back and I stumbled forward, dragging Shaun with me. I caught myself right before pulling us both over the edge of the dock. “A for effort!”
“Patrick knows where we are,” Shaun said. “This is gonna sound seriously cliché, but you won’t get away with this, man.”
As if right on cue, I noticed movement in the brush beyond the path. “Mick!” a frantic voice shouted.
“And now the fun can begin. I knew he’d show. That’s why I didn’t off you earlier,” Mick whispered, turning to greet Patrick with a grin. “Pat! What took you so long? We’ve been waiting. You’re just in time to say good-bye.”
He stopped at the edge of the dock, eyes darting from Shaun to me. “Stop. Just stop for a second and let’s talk.”
“Okay. Let’s talk.” Mick didn’t seem the least bit concerned over his arrival. In fact, he seemed giddy. “Long time no see, buddy. How’s tricks?”
Patrick took a step forward. He kept both hands in plain sight and moved slowly. “Same old, same old. You?”
Mick shrugged. He patted me on the shoulder and said, “Just tying up some loose ends.”
Patrick made a sweeping gesture. “Doing pretty good for yourself. Solid alias, nice place—you’ve even got boys.” He clucked his tongue. “Hired muscle, Mick? Not really your style, is it?”
Mick shrugged. “I’m getting older. Have to roll with the times. They come in handy.”
“Dabble in the game, huh? Still running petty crimes. That’s pathetic.” Patrick snorted.
Mick’s shoulders stiffened. “I run a very lucrative pharmaceutical business.”
“Pharmaceutical business?” Patrick chortled. “You’re a drug runner? That’s classic, man.”
“Coming from the poor shmuck who chases petty crooks across the United States for chump change.” He leaned forward. “I’ve got money and power. All the things Melissa wanted. Tell me, Pat. Which one of us do you think she’d choose now?”
“Me. For sure.” Patrick mimicked Mick’s movement and bent a bit closer. “From what I heard, your, um, assets were a little too small, if you know what I mean.”
Mick twitched, but he didn’t lunge. Instead, he straightened and smiled. “We’ll see who has the last laugh.”
Patrick held out his hand. There was something small and thin between his fingers. “I’m game. Maybe you’d find this funny.”
Mick feigned interest, but I could tell he wasn’t into playing Patrick’s game. He nudged the cinder blocks closer to the water’s edge with the toe of his shoe. “What’s that?”
“Come on, Mick,” Patrick snapped. The forced humor from their exchange was gone, replaced by anger. “Mel was smarter than the both of us put together. You don’t think she’d find a way to get this to me?”
Mick lost his grin and stepped a little closer. “Get what to you?”
“The evidence.”
Mick shook his head, the smile returning to his lips. He tapped his foot against the dock and said, “You’re lying. She wouldn’t come to you now. Not after all these years. Not after how you treated her.”
“You’re right. She wouldn’t. I was an ass to have reacted the way I did, and Mel would have never forgiven me. But she knew you were closing in and she had to think about Kayla. We knew each other very well. She sent me a hint about where she hid the evidence. I found an SD card.”
“You knew her well?” Mick said, stunned. The evidence was forgotten. “You didn’t know her at all if you so easily could have believed her capable of murder. You never questioned it. Not once. You didn’t deserve her.”
Patrick took a deep breath and stepped forward. One step. Then two. He was only about six or so feet from us now. “No. I didn’t. But neither did you. Just tell me—tell me why you did it. If you loved her, why would you set her up like that? Was it so she would turn to you for help? Did you think she’d beg you to take her away?”
“Idiot,” Mick yelled. “I didn’t set her up. I set you up—but as usual you got away with it! It’s about you. It’s always been about you. From day fucking one.”
If Patrick was at all surprised by Mick’s revelation, it didn’t show. Expression unchanged, he said, “So you’re willing to kill two innocent kids—one of which is your own daughter—to punish me because of a relationship that died a long time ago?”
“See, this is where the revenge part comes in, Patty-boy. You were so obsessed wit
h attacking Melissa for the murder of that kid, that you never gave her a chance to tell you the truth. About more than one thing.” He grabbed my shoulders and gave me a good shake. “I did love Melissa. Want to know how I’m sure? Because even after this little bitch was born and we confirmed it, I was still willing to tolerate her.”
Patrick’s face paled. “What are you talking about?”
Mick winked at me, then turned back to Patrick, who had stopped moving closer. “She’s not my daughter.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Patrick’s eyes grew impossibly wide, and he started to lunge forward, but Mick was too fast. He kicked the brick over the edge.
“No!” Patrick screamed.
“Shaun,” I panted as every inch of me went numb. Eyes squeezed shut, I whispered to myself over and over again, this is not real. Notreal-notreal-notreal. I’d fallen asleep. My eyes would open before I hit the water, Mom sleeping peacefully on the other side of the room with her shoes on and the blanket pulled tight around her shoulders. I’d find myself curled up on the couch at the cabin, blankets kicked aside and pillow on the floor. None of this. None of it had been real.
And my eyes did open. Only nothing had changed. We were still on the dock.
We were still about to die.
I held my breath and leaned back as far as I could. If I threw all my weight back, maybe I could keep us from falling over. Offset the brick somehow. I watched in horror, heart about to explode from my chest, as the block disappeared beneath the water with a huge splash. The seconds seemed to last forever as the pile of rope on the dock in front of us got smaller and smaller, uncurling beneath the surface like a serpent diving to strike.
Shaun was pale. He glanced over his shoulder as Patrick collided with Mick on his way to reach us. He, too, pulled against the rope, but it wasn’t any use. “Kayla—take a deep breath and—”
His body jerked sideways, right foot yanked out from beneath him as he went over the edge and slammed into the water—just two seconds before I did.
The water was shockingly cold. The sting of it against my skin was painful and almost made me forget I was about to drown. The farther down we sank, the less I could see. The lake was dark and the water murky, and I could just barely make out Shaun’s struggling form beside me. We were both thrashing around in an attempt to untie the ropes, as uncontrollable panic welled inside my chest. I couldn’t die. Not like this. I hadn’t come all this way to end up a waterlogged corpse in some wacko’s lake.
Shaun gave up and was digging into his pocket. Hope surged. A knife. Maybe he had a pocketknife. Something that might be able to cut the rope.
I followed his lead and bent down to see if I could untie the rope holding him to the cinder blocks. Awkwardly, my fingers fumbled and pulled, but the water was so cold and every inch of my body had gone numb. I tried and tried, but couldn’t reach the base of the knot.
I pulled on the cuffs, trying to stretch just a bit farther, but it was just no use. The few extra inches I needed just weren’t there—until they were.
Without warning, my left hand shot forward—free of the shackles—and I was able to get to the knot. A renewed sense of hope surged as I fumbled with the rope, desperately trying to slip my fingers through the middle to loosen it. Mick might have been a master of the disappearing act, but he tied a damn good knot, too. I couldn’t get it to budge.
A set of hands closed around my shoulders, pulled upward and pushed me away. Toward the surface. Shaun was still tied to the block. He’d gotten the shackles off my wrist somehow, and I was free to swim to the surface—but he wasn’t.
I swatted him away and made another swipe for the rope. Over and over, I tried to pry the knot loose. Shaun was there, too, picking at every part, trying to slip his fingers between the ropes to free his foot. Just an inch. A small opening. I was sure the whole thing would come undone if we could only get it started.
But I couldn’t. In fact, I couldn’t do much of anything.
The pressure in my chest was almost too much to stand at that point, and I had to battle the urge to inhale. Most of my fight was gone, limbs nearly unresponsive. Even though terror threatened to overtake me, I simply couldn’t move. Lungs, limbs, blood—all of me—felt heavy and frozen.
Shaun had done everything he promised. He’d kept me safe and helped me find the truth about what happened to my mom. Truth that had not only gotten me killed—but him, too. It wasn’t fair. He didn’t deserve this. Neither of us did.
A spark ignited deep in my belly. A finger twitched. Then, inside my sneaker, a toe.
Mom’s rules. They’d carried me through almost every bad situation and tight spot in my life. Why the hell was I disregarding them now? When I needed them the most?
Never give up.
I made a decision. Pushing off the ground, I kicked my feet hard and hoped it would be enough to propel me toward the surface. It was difficult at first. My body didn’t want to respond. But I made it. Life was about doing the things that needed to be done. No matter how painful or terrifying they might be. Mom had taught me that.
When my head broke the surface, I inhaled greedily. But it didn’t last. I managed a lungful of air before slipping back beneath the water. Shaun. I needed to get back to Shaun. But I needed air, too. I flailed my arms and kicked my feet, but all I managed to do was crest the surface again.
I saw a dark shape over the water. A cleanly shaven head and large brown eyes.
Patrick grabbed my wrists and heaved me from the water. “Shaun,” I gasped. “He’s stuck down there.”
A second later, there was a splash and he was gone.
A few feet from where I sat, shivering and sore, Mick lay motionless. Fanning out from his right side was a growing pool of blood. If I’d had the energy, I would have crawled over and kicked him. He might not feel it, but it would make me feel just a bit better. He’d finally paid for what he’d done, but I wasn’t satisfied. He’d taken my mom and I’d had no part in his fall. I felt cheated.
More splashing dragged my attention away from Mick’s body. I turned just as Patrick was hauling Shaun’s motionless form from the lake. The air, slightly warmer than the lake, rose from them in steamy waves and made the entire scene seem surreal. Like a nightmare there was no escape from.
Patrick set Shaun down on his back as he struggled to catch his breath. The rope was still knotted around Shaun’s ankle, but the end had been cut.
“No,” I whispered, crawling toward them. With each movement I made, razor-sharp pins and needles prickled every inch my body. “No-no-no…”
Patrick pushed me away and tipped Shaun’s head back. He began pumping his chest with a vengeance, leaning in to cover Shaun’s nose and breathe into his mouth every few seconds. I wasn’t sure how long this went on. Everything had slowed and time just didn’t seem to mean anything anymore. Any minute I would wake up. I’d be back in the cabin with Mom. None of the things that had happened over the last year—over the last few days—would be real.
Notreal-notreal-notreal.
“Shaun!” Patrick screamed. His voice echoed through the trees and bounced off the surrounding mountains. The compressions were faster now. Harder. If he kept this up, he’d break Shaun’s ribs.
I fell to my belly beside Shaun’s head, unable to stay upright any longer. Tears rolled down my cheeks, leaving icy trails in their wake. “Don’t go, Shaun. Please.” I reached out and took his hand in mine. It was ice cold. Surely no one’s skin could be that cold if they were still alive. I glanced down at his right arm. The shackles didn’t look broken, but maybe the fall into the water unlocked them somehow? “We can’t get to know each other if you go…”
“He’s—not—going—anywhere,” Patrick huffed. He continued the compressions, but a part of me just wanted him to stop. This was pointless. Morbid. Shaun had been under the water too long. He wasn’t coming back.
A small, shiny object caught my eye on the dock a few inches from Shaun’s other hand. Forcing
myself up on my hands and knees, I crawled around Patrick to see what it was. He was still fruitlessly working. I opened my mouth to tell him to stop, but the look on his face made the words stick in my throat. It was easier to focus on the shiny thing on the ground. I didn’t know why it was so important right then, but it just was. In fact, it was the single most important thing in the world. As I got closer, the thing took shape. Thin, it was tipped on one end and rounded at the other. It was a key.
The shackle key.
The cuffs hadn’t broken. Shaun had unlocked them. He’d had the key the entire time and had sacrificed himself, taking the precious time to unlock the cuffs so I could get away instead of trying to untie himself from the brick.
I wanted to scream—and I might have, too, if a sudden round of waterlogged coughing hadn’t filled the air.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Whirling around, I saw Patrick rolling Shaun onto his side as he spit up a lungful of foul lake water. He hacked and gagged, and it was the most amazing sound I’d ever heard. I tackled him, arms wrapping around his shoulders as he sputtered and gasped to refill his lungs.
“You’re okay,” he wheezed, returning the soggy embrace.
“And so are you.” I pulled away to look at Patrick. He was sitting on the other side of Shaun, just watching us. He suddenly looked older. Tired and frail, in the same way I’d seen a thousand times in Mom. Knowing what I knew now about her past and the things that haunted her, I understood. The stress. Always trying to hide the truth. In many ways, Patrick had done the same. He’d hidden his past—a past he could never truly escape from—and begun chasing the very thing he’d been.
Mom had run away from it. Patrick had run toward it. It didn’t end up bringing either of them any peace. I couldn’t help feeling that if they’d only embraced it and dealt with things, they could have been able to move forward.
