There was a rack of roadmaps and flyers right beside a cordless landline phone with a “Guest use only” sign underneath it. She’d planned to ask to use a phone, even though she knew Eve wouldn’t like it.
Sure, caller ID would identify where she was. But they would only be here for another hour or two. They’d move on again as soon as Eve got up.
She picked up the phone and dialed the number she knew by heart. Jason’s number. She imagined he’d be sleeping. It was almost 6 a.m., but still dark outside. February days were still short.
She expected a sexy, sleepy “hello?” after several rings.
Instead he picked up in half a ring and barked his greeting, startling the her.
“It’s me,” she said, bringing the phone back to her ear.
“Sunny! Jeeze, Sunny, are you okay? Where are you?”
“Jason, you’re not safe. That guy you killed wasn’t alone. He’s part of a group–”
“I know.”
“You have to be careful.”
“Where are you?”
“I can’t…I want to, but I can’t tell you. You’ll come after me, and it’s not safe. I’ll be okay. Eve will make sure I’m okay. And maybe…when this is over, somehow I can–”
“Hello there, big sister.”
Brax’s voice came from behind her, and she could’ve sworn an icy frost spread up her spine.
“Sunny?" Jason was alarmed. "Who is that? Sunny! Dammit, answer me.”
Brax walked up behind her, reached around and took the phone from her ear. She only saw his hand. He had sausage fingers, pudgy palms. He depressed the cutoff, and dropped the phone on the floor.
“Turn around,” he said. And she did, because there was no reason not to. She was just as dead either way. Maybe it would be harder for him to pull the trigger if he was looking her in the eye.
He looked the same, only older, a little fatter. He had a round face, big round eyes, like little boy eyes, set just a tad too close together. Light blue. Blond lashes. Dirty blond hair that seemed almost brown the way he wore it, hedgehog style, with gel.
“Long time, no see.”
There was beer on his breath. But when had there ever not been? He had his hunting knife in his hand. She'd recognize its wooden handle and fat silver blade forever. She saw it in her nightmares.
Chapter 12
“Sunny?" Jason said into the phone. "Sunny, what’s going on, who is that? Sunny!” The call ended. “Dammit!”
“What’d she say, what’s going on?”
“She’s in trouble.” Jason passed his cell phone to Jack. “Caller ID said Courtside Motor Lodge. Google the address.”
Jason pushed the truck up to 85.
Jack had said that Eve would head southwest, so they'd been driving southwest for two hours now. He'd refused to say how he knew, or thought he knew, or why he thought they had any chance of catching up when the girls had such a big head start.
“We won’t be any help if you roll this thing, Jason.”
“I’m not gonna roll this thing.” He let up just a little, though. Because yes, he was.
“There are six Courtside Motor Lodges within a hundred miles,” Jack said.
“Check the phone number. Area code and exchange.”
Jack tapped the phone. “Got it. Ten twenty-nine Eckhart Road, el Fuego, New Mexico. I told you so.” Jack flashed his dimples and gave a nod.
“How far?”
“Hang on, hang on.” He tapped his phone again. “Seven point two miles.”
Jason looked at him slowly. “You’re kidding me.”
“What can I say? When I’m good, I’m good.”
“I guess maybe you are. Let's get there.”
He pushed the pedal harder. "It sounded like someone came in. There was a man's voice. I didn't hear any sign of Eve. She's supposed to be protecting her. Where the hell is she?”
“Good question.”
“Who’s after Sunny, Jack?”
Jack looked up from his phone. “Her brother.”
Sunny couldn’t believe she was standing there, staring into her brother’s eyes. And for a moment, she flashed back to the last time she’d seen him.
Their father’s trial was over. Braxton would be tried separately, as an accomplice, but it didn’t matter. Her testimony was already on record. The evidence already in the DA’s hands. She'd told them where to find her father’s laptop, the one he kept hidden. The one he used to run his group, and to record all his conversations, in case he needed something to hold over someone’s head. Blackmail material. The idiot never considered he was also recording evidence against himself.
She remembered the soundbite they’d played in court, the one where her father had ordered his boys to find Dave Barron in that crowd of protestors, and mow him down.
You don’t leave until he’s dead, and you make sure Mary sees it happen. I don’t want her to forget. Not ever.
That had convicted him. There was no question in the juror's minds once they heard him give the order. Even though the investigators had never found out who was driving the car, they knew who'd given the order and why. It was a hate crime. Dave had been targeted for dating a white girl. By her father.
She had been in the courtroom to hear the guilty verdict, and to see her father taken away in shackles. And she hadn't felt an ounce of regret. She’d done the right thing. She’d done the right thing for Dave.
She left the courthouse to walk to a local restaurant, and her cell phone rang. It was Eve. “Congratulations! But we’re not done yet. We need to get you out of town. Your brother—”
“I can handle my brother. I told you, I don’t want to go into witness protection.”
“Braxton is a dangerous man,” Eve said. “Far more dangerous than your father. He’s smarter. And he’s not behind bars yet.”
Unlike her father, her brother had been released on bond until his trial.
“I’m smarter than either of them,” she told Eve. “I’m fine. I promise.”
“We still on for dinner?”
“I’m on my way now. Patrick’s on Eaton, right? I’m a block away.”
“Good. See you soon.”
Mary put the phone in her pocket, and then a gloved hand came over her face, a car skidded to a stop at her side, its back door popped open, and she was shoved in, all in the space of a heartbeat. She landed face down on the seat, and the guy got in behind her and barked “Drive!” while crushing her face to the upholstery, hand on the back of her neck.
“No point fighting, sis. I win. I always win.” Her brother. Braxton.
She stopped fighting him, focused on inching the phone out of her pocket underneath her body, pressing her thumbprint to the button. She couldn’t see the screen, couldn’t lift her head. They hit a bump, and she pretended it rocked her right off the seat, onto the floor, getting the glimpse she needed to tap the phone icon, and then her most recent call. She shoved the phone under the seat while Brax yanked her onto the seat by her hair, then started pawing her coat pockets, ripping the fabric.
She twisted against his groping paws. “God, get off me, what do you want?”
Satisfied her pockets were empty, he reached down to the floor, and she almost panicked, until he came up with her purse, turned it upside down and shook its contents all over the seat between them. At least he had to slide over to do it. He took her wallet, emptied it of cash, stuffed it into his denim jacket’s pocket. “Not gonna need that where you’re going.” Then he pulled out his fat hunting knife. He’d burned his initials into its handle. He grabbed a fistful of her hair, and she gasped and fought, but he just wrapped it around his fist and pulled, and then he brought the knife to it and started sawing.
She kicked and twisted, but he just yanked harder. “I can pull it out or hack it off. Your call.”
“You’re sick, Braxton!”
“I’m sick? You’re the one who turned on your own blood, Mary.” And he kept on sawing with that thick knife. Cutting and p
ulling, and smiling the whole time. His eyes were alive, sparkling. He loved what he was doing. He cut it all the way through, and then he took her hair, all wrapped around his fist, and he threw it out the window, wiggling his fingers to let the wind take every strand.
She reached up to touch her head, but he grabbed her wrist before she could. The car had slowed. It pulled through an open overhead garage door into a small building, and stopped. The place looked abandoned. An old tool bench along one wall, a rusting iron vise still attached, a couple of tires in the corner. A tool cart lay on its side on the cracked concrete floor.
The two guys in the front seat, Landry Mason and the one she knew only as Major, got out. Landry closed the overhead door, and it was pitch dark. She smelled old motor oil and was more afraid than she’d ever been in her life. Brax opened the car door and hauled her out, holding her wrist. She tried to get her legs under her, but he moved too fast so she stumbled and he dragged her.
A light came on so suddenly she had to close her eyes.
Someone stood the cart up, and Braxton picked her up and slammed her onto it. The raised metal lip around its edge bit into her back. Then Brax took her chin in his hand, twisting her head to one side. “You'll wanna be real still for this,” he said, and he took that damned knife and scraped it over the already tender spot where he’d hacked off her hair.
“Ow! Dammit, Brax, you’re cutting me.”
“Not yet, I’m not.” He scraped some more, then said, “Gimme the gun.”
Her blood went cold. “You had to shave me to shoot me? What the hell, Braxton?”
“Not that kind of gun, sis.” He lifted his hand, and the tool he held buzzed. Tattoo gun, she realized, as he started drilling ink into her scalp.
The nightmarish memory played out all at once, a flash, a download. And she was in the present again, there with her brother, looking at him for the first time in six years. His face was that kind of puffy that only came from hard drinking. His cheeks and nose looked like he stood outside in a blizzard every day. But he’d never seen snow, as far as she knew. He was thirty-two. He looked fifty.
“You didn’t think you could just run away from who you are, did you? From your family? From your past?”
“Hoped,” she said. “Only hoped.”
“You killed our father.”
“He died in prison.”
“You put him there!”
She nodded, her eyes on him, on the knife she knew too well. Her scalp flinched in remembered pain. And then she saw Eve through the glass door behind her brother. Eve put a finger to her lips.
Then she kicked the door open. It hit Braxton in the back, which had not been her intention. It sent him lurching forward, blade first. Sunny spun to one side, and threw herself past him, crashing into Eve’s legs and taking her out. Eve landed hard as headlights bounded into the parking lot. Her gun skittered across the pavement. She rolled and scrambled after it. Brax lurched to his feet and out the door. He got to the gun first, grabbed it up, then shielded his eyes because of the truck's headlights blazing into them.
From those lights, a shout. "Get away from them!"
"Jason." She hadn't meant to blurt his name on a breath of panic. He couldn't be here. But he was out of the truck, facing down her brother. "Jason, don't! He has a gun."
Jason stepped out of the glare, put one hand on the side of his truck, and sprang up over the side into the back, where he ducked low. She thought her heart stopped when he did that. God, Brax could've shot him.
"I'm not gonna let you kill him, Brax. You'll have to kill me first."
"That's kind of the plan." He aimed the gun at her.
She could feel it on her. Her flesh tightened where the barrel aimed. She was shaking.
"Come on out of that truck, cowboy." Braxton grabbed for her, but she dodged, so he pointed his gun at her instead. "Come on out or I just shoot her now."
"Don't!" she shouted. "He'll shoot me either way! It's what he came for."
Her brother smiled, cocked his head to one side. "She's got a point." And then he looked at her and tilted his head until he could look right down the barrel. And she could look up the barrel, right into his baby blue eye.
"Bye, sis."
Something flew into him. No, someone. Jason! He came leaping out of nowhere hitting Braxton like a missile. They landed on the pavement together and the gun went flying.
Lights were popping on in motel room windows.
They rolled apart and sprang to their feet. Jason had a freaking sword in his hand, and her brother had picked up something like a tire iron. He swung it like a cave man swinging a club. Jason moved like water, though, reshaping himself to avoid every blow. He wasn't trying too hard to inflict harm. Going through the motions, keeping Brax off balance and jumping backward again and again.
She picked up the gun and aimed it. "Stop!" The volume and depth of her voice reverberated and brought the men to a standstill. Eve, too, who'd been creeping up on her from the left.
Sunny put the site on her brother's chest, and her finger touched the safety. Already off. Brax froze, and she looked right into his eyes for a second. He knew she could do it. And she knew she could do it. She lowered her cheek to her shoulder and looked down the site at his widest point, right between the shoulders.
"Sunny, let me take that gun from you, now." Eve sidled up to her.
"I've gotta do it, Eve," she whispered. "He's never gonna stop. He was driving that car, I know he was. He killed Dave. He'll kill Jason. He'll kill me."
"You don't want to spend the rest of your life in prison. You know you don't want that. He's not worth that."
"Jason's worth that." She straightened her arms, re-focused her aim, called out, "Step away from him, Jason."
"Sunny, what are you doing?" Jason asked. "Eve, arrest him or something, huh? He tried to kill her."
A new blaze of headlights blinded her as three more jacked-up vehicles roared up on them. One stopping right in between Sunny and her brother and Jason. Its door opened and closed. Eve swept the gun from her hand as the truck sped away again. Sunny blinked in the dark. Her brother was gone and Jason was on the ground, facedown.
"No." She ran to him as the other pickups fishtailed into the road and sped away, falling to her knees, sobbing and holding him, overcome with panic. "Jason, no. No, no, no, no!"
He pushed himself up, twisting around and grabbing her shoulders. "Hey, look at me. I'm okay. I'm okay."
She pressed her palms to his face and looked at him. "You're not dead."
"No, I'm not dead. Got dragged a few feet is all. Sunny are you okay?"
She blinked, nodded. He got up on his feet, and, taking her hands, helped her up onto hers.
She didn't feel like her knees were going to hold her. Everything solid in her had dissolved when she'd seen him on the ground. The past had come rushing back to engulf her, like living that horror all over again.
Then Jason just wrapped her in his arms. "Damn, I'm glad to see you in one piece."
“How did you… What are you doing here?”
“Where did you think I'd be? Sunny, whatever else, you’re in trouble. Clearly.” He released her and looked past her, into the motel office. It wasn’t wrecked, but there were a hellish number of flyers scattered. “I came to help.”
"You can't help," she told him. Then turned to Eve. Jack Kellogg was standing there talking to her. "We have to go."
“I know you were faking amnesia," Jason said. "I know you're hiding from your past, and hiding your history from me and everyone else in Big Falls."
"Did Jack come with you?"
“Yeah.”
“What are you doing with him?” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “You know he can’t be trusted.”
“He knew where you and Eve were going.”
“That’s not good news.”
“I wouldn’t have got here in time if not for him.”
"You could've been killed."
"So could you.
So could she."
"It's her job. And my problem. I'm not gonna let you make it yours, Jason." She walked up to Eve, and the two of them started toward the room. Its door was closed, but several others were open, with people looking out.
"It's all good," Jack said to the curious motel guests, flashing his smile. "Bunch of drunken rednecks looking for trouble. They're gone now."
The doors closed one by one.
Eve shot her a look as they walked. “What the hell were you doing out here alone?”
“Whatever I want, Eve. You don’t control me.”
“I’m not trying to control you, I’m trying to keep you alive.”
“It’s my life. Maybe I should get to decide how best to preserve it.”
Eve’s face changed. It went sort of lax, and her eyes rounded, losing the angry squint. “He knows where we are. He found us, Sunny. And I don’t know how. There’s no way he followed, but if he did it once, he’ll do it again.”
“Maybe not,” Jack said.
They stopped walking and turned. Jason and Jack were right behind them. Jack shrugged and said, “If we get out of here before they get a chance to regroup, we have a jump start. Did you cut him, do you think?" he asked Jason.
Jason shuddered. "I'm not real fond of using my swords to kill people. But yeah. He'll need a few stitches."
"Good, that'll take time," Jack said. "So, if we leave now–"
Eve said, “What is all this ‘we’ stuff, Jack?” She couldn't seem to hold his steady gaze, so she paced to the road instead. “They headed north.”
“But they'll turn around. They already know we’re heading southwest,” Sunny said. “Probably the same way Jack did.”
Jack sent Eve a half-smile, like an inside joke.
“Definitely not the same way Jack did," Eve said without inflection. “We’ll head east."
“I think we should head home.” Jason walked up to Sunny and put a hand on her shoulder. “Look, you've lied to me the whole time we’ve been together, Sunny, and I'm not over that. I don't know if I can get over that." He shook his head. "But even so, I know you. I know you, Sunny. And I know you belong in Big Falls. Running away isn't the answer."
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