“Stay focused,” Gary said, passing him and patting him on the shoulder.
“I will.”
As the others began their hike up the hill, Morgan stood frozen for a moment. This was it, he realized; this was the night—or early morning, if you were being pedantic—that everything was going to change. One way or another, he was heading home with answers.
Was Robin safe?
Morgan fell into a light jog, catching up to the three men who were all here for him. As comrades, they ventured up the path in silence. Sideways glances were exchanged from all angles. Morgan could see from their clouding breath that they were all as nervous as he was. Steaming clouds floated from their mouths in rapid succession, almost appearing as one long trail. Morgan’s was no better—he could see his breath, but that didn’t mean he could feel it. It felt as though he was about to suffocate, and the gun in his hand didn’t help calm him.
The cabin came into sight within minutes. It loomed there in the darkness like it had a life of its own. The absence of light and the way the moon cast down across the wall made the windows look like closed eyes. It encouraged Morgan to keep quiet, dreading the possibility that he might awaken the dwelling monster.
But the real monster was inside.
At least he hoped so.
They reached the top of the path and officially came onto the property. Mason tilted his wristwatch toward the moonlight and tapped Bill on the arm. Bill nodded and headed for the nearby door. Gary was glued to his side and unarmed. Morgan, trying not to feel bad for accepting Gary’s gun, followed Mason around the cabin, counting back from thirty. Dry leaves crunched under their feet, but it was unavoidable. Had he woken Erika? Was Erika even inside?
Twenty-three.
Twenty-two.
Around the corner, Mason stopped beside a wooden door. He looked at Morgan and gave a short, sharp nod. It said: “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” He then pointed two fingers at his own eyes before jerking them toward the door.
Fifteen.
Fourteen.
The gun shook like a leaf in Morgan’s hand. This was it: the moment that would define his abilities as a father—the singular event that would either save their son or destroy their lives. The risk was a great burden that couldn’t be shed, but Morgan understood there was only one way to combat this.
He had to own it.
Three.
Mason gave him a thumbs-up.
Two.
Morgan clutched the gun tight in his hands.
One.
It was Mason who kicked down the door. One singular bash with the heel of his foot knocked it from its hinges. It struck the floor with a crash. A woman’s voice cried out and Morgan froze. Mason had his Beretta aimed in front of him, taking point and entering the building. Morgan followed in close, adrenaline flushing through him like his blood had turned to ice. He suddenly knew he wasn’t prepared for this, and if the empty feeling in his stomach wasn’t enough to tell him that, the deafening explosion that came next sure was.
Morgan never saw what happened, but he was blinded by a flood of light that exploded from inside the cabin. The blast made his ears ring, pairing with his blurred vision to make him stall. Mason blocked his path, but something inside took over. Was it his desperation to reach Robin? Perhaps it was concern for Gary, the source of the blast still unknown to him. Whatever it was, his body seemed to take off by itself, with Morgan’s mind acting as only a backseat driver as he lunged into the cabin, pushing past Mason to view the scene ahead.
He wished he hadn’t.
Gary was on the floor, surrounded by wooden debris. Scattered flames licked up at the walls, some sparkling hot orange by his feet. A large patch of dark red covered Gary’s leg, his face a picture of agony. Beside him, Bill lay facedown on the ground, motionless.
“Hey!” Mason rushed toward Bill, shaking him.
There was no movement.
But there was also none from Morgan. It felt as though he was frozen in time, sentenced to the great punishment of having to watch the fallout of his own actions. He’d caused this, he thought. If only he’d never pursued Erika in the first place. If only he’d let Mason die.
No. There was more to it than that.
This was all down to Erika Givens. Morgan would not accept the blame.
He rushed to Gary’s side, dropping to one knee and putting both hands on his chest. He scanned up and down his friend’s body looking for other wounds—something more fatal. Thankfully, there was none. “What the hell happened?”
“She set up a goddamn trap.” Gary pointed to the gaping hole in the wall, his other hand reaching down to clutch his bleeding leg. He winced, let go, and fell onto his back, staring up at the cabin ceiling. “I’m okay, buddy. Just go.”
Morgan glanced to his right where Mason had rolled Bill onto his side. Mason was staring back at him, rage filling the whites of his eyes, hot red bursting into his cheeks. Morgan had never seen anyone as such a perfect picture of anger—of pure, unrelenting rage. Mason nodded at him, and as if it had a mind of its own, his hand reached down for the gun.
Before Morgan knew it he was on his feet, dashing out of the cabin and back into the cold winter woods, his heart heavy and a rush of fear taking control of him. He was uncertain before, but now there was nothing clearer than the idea of Erika paying for her actions. Now, she’d gone a step too far, and Morgan could clearly envision putting a bullet in her chest.
Or could he?
There was only one way to find out, and it wasn’t far away.
Chapter Forty-Four
Morgan broke into a sprint unlike any he’d ever known. Loose branches pinched and tore at his pants as he left the cabin far behind, pursuing the silhouette ahead. Mason was behind him. At least he thought it was Mason—all he heard were the footsteps fighting to keep up. But Morgan was too fast.
The chase became an uphill scramble, and that was to his advantage. For the first time since Robin had been taken, Morgan believed he had a chance. He thought, if only for a second, that he had luck on his side. Running through the dark woods was one thing, but uphill with a baby in her arms? Forget it. Morgan pushed on, brushing past the trees and pushing away from the trunks with his hands as he passed.
And then a thought hit him.
What if she discarded his baby?
It was as if someone had taken a whisk to his insides. Morgan even felt himself slow as a dizzy feeling struck his head. Would she really do that, he wondered? If Robin was slowing her down, would she do something about it?
He tried not to think about it, only running on as Mason finally caught up to him. His face was a sweat-soaked expression of sheer panic. He glanced at Morgan for a brief second before overtaking him, gun in hand. Morgan didn’t mind—he just hoped somebody would catch up to her in time. The who made no difference.
They ran until they reached a clearing. Erika had stopped and now stood on the edge of a steep drop. Morgan skidded to a stop, and from where he stood it looked like it’d be quite a tumble. His eyes went to Erika, who stood on the edge with a devilish grin and a threatening look in her eyes. In one arm she held Robin, and Morgan was overcome with relief to see him alive. But in the other she held a revolver.
It was aimed at his son.
“Don’t come any closer,” she spat. The way she glanced between him and Mason made her look like a witch. Her back was hunched and black, sweaty hair swished over her shoulders as she turned her head. She kept moving her foot, as if stepping back was an option. And who knew? For her, it probably was. There seemed to be no limit to what she would do.
“You need to calm down,” Mason said, sidestepping the perimeter of the trees.
Morgan watched this with clouded vision. The cramp in his stomach had gone, and now it just felt empty. He felt empty, like he was about to pass out at any moment. The only reason he fought to stay upright was for Robin.
“Don’t tell me to calm down,” Erika said. “And you can drop your
gun.”
“That’s not going to happen.” Mason softened his tone and glanced at Morgan. He returned his gaze to Erika and took another step with one hand out, slowly approaching. Each time his foot stretched closer to her, Morgan suffered a pang of dread that he was pushing too far. Any minute now, he could take one step too far, and that would be the end. “Listen to me. Whatever problems you have, you can take them up with me. You’ve taken this man’s son, and that’s crossing the line. You and I can deal with our problems together, but you have to hand the boy over to us. Understand?”
“Go to hell.”
“Also not going to happen.”
Morgan took the risk of moving closer, reducing the distance between them. He suddenly remembered he had a gun in his hand, and he was amazed he’d let himself forget it. Was this what adrenaline did to a man? Or was it fear that messed with his thoughts? Both, he figured, but that wouldn’t stop him from finally acting like a man. He raised his weapon and aimed at her. “I’m not messing around anymore,” he said. “Give me back my son.”
“Or what?”
He took another step.
Erika put a foot behind her as if reaching for the ground that wasn’t there. The gun in her hand shook like she was frozen, but the depraved blankness in her eyes posed a different theory. They glistened in the moonlight, tears watering the surfaces. “You don’t understand.”
“Then why don’t you explain it to us?”
“Don’t humor the mad bitch,” Mason yelled.
“Shut up.” Morgan let the gun hang to his side. He moved in, closing the distance between them and locking eyes with Erika. He held her stare and made it feel as if there were only the two of them left in this world—as if she wasn’t alone, and his son’s life wasn’t in her hands. “Go on. I’ll hear your story…”
Chapter Forty-Five
“It was never about me,” she said. “It was more about what I could’ve been, or what it felt like to have the things I had. Some people are materialistic, but me? I just wanted a man. No normal man would do though. He had to be… exceptional.”
Erika looked to Mason and then back to Morgan.
“My parents were both very successful accountants, so it’s safe to say I grew up around excellence. Everything they did and said came with a sort of golden touch, like it was gospel. Maybe that was just the way I saw it as a child—I know it’s common enough to idolize your parents, especially when they’re gone. But that came later.
“When I was just a kid, we moved to New York to start a new life. My mother and father were always busy, and the streets of New York weren’t safe, which basically only left me with reading in my room. I did a lot of it, getting to know all these heroes and swashbuckling pirates, but I outgrew it quick. Before I knew it, I was on to detective novels. Guess how long it took for people like Mason to become the men I looked up to.
“Of course, detective stories always came with the macabre. Twisted serial killers were always just that—twisted—but it didn’t mean their opinions should be completely discredited.”
Erika watched them both, but they were silent. Listening.
She sighed.
“I’m not saying killing is right. But look, my parents died in the World Trade Center on that day. There were cops and firemen and all sorts of different heroes. I’d never been so confused; on the same day a group of sickos took countless lives, so many others banded together to save them. Some even died in the process. I was completely alone in the world at that very second, but I watched it on the news. You know what I remember most about that day? It wasn’t that my parents were gone or that I was alone.
“It was that I didn’t have to be alone.
“God took them from me, and he left me in this country with nothing. Nobody. I spent a lot of time on the streets, getting to know what real evil was. By the time you see the things I’ve seen, you start to appreciate that holding a man against his will really isn’t that big a deal. Not in the grand scheme of things. Take Mason for example: if he didn’t throw away his food or kick over his bucket, he’d have been well fed and taken care of. All I ever wanted from him was affection, but all he ever gave me was aggression. Go figure.”
Erika glanced at him but kept her focus on Morgan.
“This is your baby, right? You probably want the best for him, seeing him grow up to be happy and successful. People like me are the best for things like that. I’m not exactly Mother of the Year—I don’t pretend to be—but when he gets to a more relatable age, I reckon I can teach him things nobody else can. Like survival and how to deal with heartache. I even know how to handle having your entire world crushed, for God’s sake.
“But that’s not why I took him.
“It was you, Morgan Young, who pushed me to my limit.”
With the moon behind her, Erika heaved the baby higher into her arm, her grip weakened.
“I didn’t want to keep the baby. I just wanted you to suffer for having interfered. It took a lot of time and effort to make Mason mine, and then you just took him away from me. Do you know how soul-destroying that was? Don’t you realize you were just like those terrorists, taking everything I had? One moment I had everything I needed, and the next it was all gone. Was I supposed to believe this happened to everyone? Nah, it was just going to happen over and over again, and I can’t live like that. That’s why I took your damn baby. And you know what? I don’t regret it. Not even a little.
“Now though, it’s a different story. I was willing to hide out for a few days and see if you caught up to me. If you didn’t, I’d have skipped town and started a new life with my new son.” She sniffled and looked at Robin, the gun still aimed at his head. “But you’re so bloody persistent. And after all this, you think you can just take him and leave? It doesn’t work like that, Mr. Young. These are my rules, and you have to abide by them.”
Erika stiffened.
“That’s why he has to die.”
Chapter Forty-Six
The most shocking thing about Erika’s confession wasn’t the list of things she’d done. It wasn’t even about her plans. The thing that really shook Morgan to his core was the complete lack of sanity—the total absence of morality—in her eyes. The idea that she used to be a normal human being felt like a foreign concept, and he struggled to see her as anything else. It made little sense to him that the more she opened up, the more distant she seemed.
Every inch of him wanted to lunge out, to raise his pistol and fire. It surprised him that a lack of confidence wasn’t what kept him from doing so. In fact, the only reason he didn’t shoot right then and there was because she was holding his son. And a fall like that, for a kid of that age? He dreaded to think of his chances.
All he could do was placate her.
“You’re not alone though,” he said. “Somewhere down the line, these events hardwired it into your brain that you have to go through this world by yourself. I mean, I understand why you think that way, but you’re wrong.”
Erika swayed the gun for a second to wipe her eye with her wrist.
No chance to seize the opportunity.
“There are people out there. Good people, looking for someone to love.” Morgan saw Mason twitch from the corner of his eye, but he didn’t let it distract him. “You have love inside you, Erika. Everyone does. Imagine if you met the man of your dreams tomorrow. He’d love everything about you, from your beautiful eyes to that interesting accent of yours. What’s not to love?”
Erika cocked her head, softening but still skeptical. “You think so?”
“Come on. A woman like you? There are tons of guys desperate for that. But you know, I have to say it…” Morgan took a deep breath of freezing air. It felt like lead in his lungs. “Imagine if he found out what happened here today. Mr. Right could come along at any minute, so do you really want to tell him you once murdered an innocent baby?”
As he said it, he saw the events unravel in his mind. She’d fire. Robin would fall, and they’d all run
forward. As if in a movie, the camera would pan out and there would be an awful, empty silence. His entire life destroyed in seconds.
“I wouldn’t tell him,” Erika said. “And I don’t believe you.”
Morgan sighed. “Maybe you wouldn’t have to. He’d find out. Especially if you went ahead with it. You think I’d keep something like that a secret if you hurt my son? Your face would be all over the news for months, if not years. Even if by some miracle you managed to get away from us, everyone would know who you are. You’d have to live on the run for the rest of your life. How hard do you think it would be to find a man then?”
Gripping his pistol, Mason edged forward.
Erika shifted uncomfortably.
It gave him an idea. “On the other hand, you could drop the gun and hand over the baby. You could walk away and we’d tell the police you’re innocent. You could start over, maybe even go on a date with Mason. I’m sure once you show your softer side, he might come to like you. Isn’t that right?”
Mason froze, looked at Morgan with raised eyebrows, and then fixed his attention back on her. He didn’t move his gun. “Yeah, that’s right. I guess we could spend some quality time together. See where things go.”
The wind picked up, brushing them all aside by an inch. Morgan shivered but ignored it. He had enough goose bumps as it was without a bitter breeze pricking at his skin. He didn’t think it possible, but he was sweating too. It froze on his face. “See,” he said. “Endless possibilities right at your fingertips.”
Erika shuffled back. A rock slid out from her foot, and she barely recovered her balance.
“You’re lying,” she said.
“No. No, I’m not.” Morgan inched forward and dropped his gun to the ground. “All of that could be yours, or you could spend the rest of your life in prison. It seems crazy to take the darker path, doesn’t it? Look, I just want my son back. I can let everything else go. So how about you just hand him over and start your brand-new life right now. What do you say?”
Mason & Morgan- The Serial Killer Collection Page 91
