23
The following morning, the young couple woke up in festive spirits. There remained one tenacious thought still troubling Helen’s mind: what Marcus and her father did, after the incident with Kendrick. They got rid of the bodies, without notifying the police. Still, it didn’t take her long to dismiss any negative thoughts. Her boyfriend was a wanted man. Had they obeyed the law, he would surely end up in a military prison. It wouldn’t matter if he was acquitted for the shooting of Kendrick and his goon. Marcus still had the charge of murdering a senior Marine officer, hanging over his head. Furthermore, if he was found guilty of killing those two men, her father could well be charged with being his accomplice. Their action was not in accordance with the law; yet, it was the only viable option for these two men to choose.
Helen went over to her parents’ house and said a quick “goodbye” to them and Patricia. A few minutes later, she picked up Marcus from his friend’s cabin and soon, the two of them left the small town of Shandaken behind them. She was ecstatic; for the first time ever, the country girl would drive across the states. Although she knew that a motorcycle would feel much more adventurous than her pickup truck, Helen would not complain. After all, the man of her dreams was there with her and they were on their way to her friends, in the sunny city of Los Angeles. Not even Helen herself could have envisioned a better scenario for this road trip.
She breathed a sigh of relief, as she drove past the point where Marcus and her father had met Kendrick the night before. It was utterly empty. There was no police presence whatsoever. Before she could leave the spot however, his voice tore the silence.
“Stop the truck; gently,” he said, using a slow voice, intriguing her.
“What is it?” Helen asked.
“I’ll be right back.” Marcus muttered, picking up a small bottle of water from the car floor, as she eased on the brakes. Helen opened her door, curiosity written all over her face, as he walked on the side of the road. The black tire marks that she soon noticed answered her question.
“They’re fresh.” Marcus pointed out, putting the bottle down on the road. “But, it’s the middle of the summer. If they stay here for a couple of days, it would be hard to get them off.”
Helen watched, as he took a few steps to his right, into an empty field. He bent down and picked up dirt with his hands. Reentering the road, he opened them, letting the dirt cover most of the tire marks. Then, Marcus picked up the bottle and unscrewed the lid. The dirt turned into mud, as he poured water down onto the black marks. He scraped his boot along the road first, before emptying the entire bottle. He smiled to himself, as his shoeprint was washed away, just like the evidence that could potentially get Helen into trouble. Moving around the spot, Marcus returned to the truck, as she gazed on him in admiration.
“It’s gone.” He informed, as she pulled the driver’s door shut.
“Ok, thanks, but…” She paused, gently pressing her foot down on the accelerator. “How did you know it was even mine?”
“Because: I remember everything about last night.” Marcus explained, leaning his back against his seat. “You pulled over, just behind your father’s car. You weren’t exactly gentle on the brakes.”
“I was too upset to think about my brakes, Marcus.” Helen said with a hint of sadness in her voice. “I couldn’t make out much from where I was. I just saw a couple of flashes.”
“Bad call.” He commented. “You could have been hurt. But, I can’t blame you there.”
“I’ll always remember what you did for my father last night.” She spoke, her voice low and sweet. “I love him very much.”
“Like I said, I had to do it.” Marcus sighed. “Tell me. If you love your father so much, why do you want to leave?”
“I don’t.” Her response was quick and clear. “Not anymore. I thought about what you said. I’d only consider leaving if I were to move to L.A.”
Her words put him in an awkward position. Marcus averted his gaze from her and looked up at the road ahead, clenching his jaw, before his lips curled into a bitter smile.
“I know it won’t be easy.” Helen added. “I know you’ll be risking exp…”
“You have no idea.” Marcus interjected, his stiff tone fueling her curiosity.
“About what?” she exclaimed.
“About what the government is capable of.” He explained, his voice dropping down an octave. “If they ever find out about you and me, they won’t just kill you. They’ll go after your whole family. That’s what they do, Helen. They kill the main targets first and then, they eliminate anyone close to them.”
“Jesus…” Her own voice turned into a fear-ridden whisper. “Those are mafia tactics you’re describing.”
“They’ve done it before.” Marcus claimed, staring into the void. “November, 2009. Malcolm Edelstein, a good friend of mine since the academy, discovers that ‘Iron Hawk’, a private military contractor is selling arms and ammo to Iraqi rebels. He tells his superiors, but they can’t do jack about it. They say it’s up to the Pentagon. He demands to see the Secretary of Defense. The Secretary of Defense refuses to meet with him. Malcolm threatens to talk to the press. They found him and his wife dead, the very next day. The official story is that he killed her and then turned his gun on himself. They said he was suffering from PTSD, but I knew the guy. He wasn’t. He had hardly seen any combat. He even wanted to start a family with her. They killed him. They didn’t want the public to know that the Pentagon was in bed with a corrupt company. The government would lose face.”
“Oh, my God,” Helen whispered, struggling to believe what she had just heard.
“Look, let’s just go back to L.A., alright?” Marcus suggested, his baritone picking up volume. “Think about what I said. Then, ask yourself if it’s worth the risk.”
24
Helen was facing the toughest decision of her whole life. Up until that moment, she believed that the only people in danger were she and Marcus. The idea that dating him could potentially put her loved ones in harm’s way had shocked her to her very core, making her question her intension of moving from her hometown. The mere thought that anyone would have her parents and her sister killed, simply because she was involved with a former marine both disgusted and discouraged her from pursuing her dream of living close to him. Sadly for Helen, she could no longer find comfort in the fact that there was a – slim – chance of continuing her relationship with Marcus, after the end of Michelle’s tour. Regardless of their feelings for each other, the story he had shared with her had led her to believe that things between them had to end. If Helen wanted the well-being of her loved ones, she would have to sacrifice her relationship with him.
As one would expect, her good mood was effectively ruined. She barely spoke for hours, considering her options. However, the more Helen thought about her situation, the more she believed that she had but one choice: To leave him. It was the only way for her to ensure his safety and her family’s alike. Of course, abandoning the man who had swept her off her feet would break her heart, but Helen would not act so selfishly, as to move to L.A. and endanger so many lives.
Upon his request, Helen pulled over at “Lavern Brothers”, a small diner a few miles outside Pennsylvania. Under any other circumstances, the lingering scent of grilled steaks would have lured her into that diner, but Helen was in such a terrible mood that it didn’t appeal to her at all. She left her car in the parking lot at the back and Marcus chose the table closest to the door, maintaining that he needed a good view of the traffic and the lot as well. Moments after their arrival, a young waitress walked up to their table, with a toothy smile on her face.
“Hi.” She chirped. “Welcome to ‘Lavern Brothers’. What can I get you?”
“Hey. I’ll have the veal chop.” Marcus said while focusing his gaze on Helen’s sullen face.
“Just some water for me.” She sighed, running both hands through her hair.
“Coming right up.” The waitress gave him yet anoth
er smile, as she turned around.
“You’ve hardly said a word since Shandaken.” He complained, turning his attention to Helen, as he leaned his elbows on the table. “What’s the matter?”
“Are you kidding me?” Frustration was lingering in her voice. “You practically warned me to stay away from you. What am I supposed to do, pretend like everything’s fine?”
“You had to know what you’d be getting yourself into.” Marcus told her, his voice low and calm, as he intensified his stare. “Did you want me to lie to you or something?”
“No.” Helen shook her head sideways, firmly. “It’s just that…” she faltered; “this is the hardest choice I’ve ever had to make.”
“I can understand that.” He gave her a sad nod. “I’m sorry, Helen. I didn’t mean to put you in this position.”
“I don’t want to choose.” Helen made her voice sound sweeter, leaning forward. “I don’t want this to end.”
“I don’t either.” Marcus whispered, rubbing his jaw. “I keep racking my brain and I still can’t think of a way to get out of this.”
His last statement annoyed her. Ever since she had learned his story, it had been Helen’s conviction that he should be reconnected with his father. David Donovan was rich and powerful enough to protect his only son. However, just when she was about to speak, her phone buzzed with an incoming call from Olivia.
“Hello?”
“Helen!?” Tension tightened the back of her neck, as her friend’s voice came out broken.
“Liv, what’s wrong?” Helen asked, as she felt her own voice become riddled with fear.
“The investigator, honey… The police found Warrick dead this morning. They said he killed his wife and then took his own life.”
Fear paralyzed her. Helen stared into the void, eyes dark with shock, unable to force a single word out of her throat, as her blood pulsed through her veins.
“Helen, are you there?”
“Y—yeah.” She stuttered.
“Where are you guys?”
“We’re on our way. Bye.” Helen said very faintly. Slowly putting her hand back down on the table, she let the phone slip from her grasp, feeling tears rising up in her eyes. “My God…” Her voice came out as a choked, pain-ridden whisper, as she put her fingers to her face and pressed against her temples. “They killed him.”
“What are you talking about?” Marcus squinted at her.
“Warrick.” She whispered once more, her face lined with sorrow. “He’s dead. They killed his wife, too.”
For the second time since Helen had met him, Marcus’s calmness vaporized. Tension spread across his face, as he raised his hands in a despairing gesture. But, before opening his mouth, he slowly turned his head to the right. Looking out the window, Marcus spotted a large, black SUV. The passenger was staring at him. Then, the stranger turned to the driver and nodded to him, as he rolled up his window.
“Helen…” He uttered, returning his gaze to her. “Get up. Really slow. We’re leaving.”
“Why?”
“They’re here.” Marcus whispered, his face tightening up. “We need to go. Now.”
The stiffness on his face sent waves of terror through her. Rising from her seat, Helen cast a rapt glance out the window. Another black SUV had pulled over at the parking lot up front. No one had emerged from either car, but she could see fumes, coming out of the exhausts. Without much thought, she followed Marcus down the hall, keeping her gaze locked on him, as they passed by a few, full tables. He turned right and into a narrow hallway, looking down at her, over his right shoulder.
“Keys.” Marcus urged, approaching the rear exit. Helen pulled them out of her pocket and tossed them over to him. As soon as he reached the doorframe, his normal pace vanished. He began to jump over the few steps that separated them from the parking lot, forcing her to do the same. Heading towards Helen’s pickup truck, Marcus sprinted across the lot, as she struggled to keep up. By the time he had started the engine, Helen was opening the passenger door, panting for breath. The tires screeched and picked up dust from the ground, as he put his foot hard down on the accelerator. Marcus turned left and into the tree-lined, narrow road, checking his rearview mirror.
“Ok, how the hell did they find us?” Helen wondered, her voice squeaky, her legs shaking from the adrenaline surging through her body.
“Traffic cams.” Marcus replied, as she looked out the rear window. “Don’t worry; there’s nobody behind us. Fucking black ops!” He growled, banging both hands at the steering wheel.
“Now what do we do?” She asked, her voice broken as her lips quivered.
“We stay off of I-80 W.” He said on an exhale. “We stay off of every highway. We need to use side roads.”
“Were they really going to shoot us? In broad daylight? In public?” Helen’s voice was riddled with panic.
“No.” Marcus said with a sigh. “Too many witnesses. They wanted to terrorize us. People make mistakes, when they’re afraid.”
“Marcus…” Helen sucked in a deep, cleansing breath, reaching her arm to cup his shoulder. “You said you couldn’t find a way to get out of this. I don’t think so. Go find your father. It’s the only way.”
She expected her suggestion to be met by an angry glare. After all, Marcus had been adamant on the issue. Still, such a thing never came. Instead, he turned to her, with a morose look in his eyes.
“If they know I’m alive, they’ve already camped outside his house,” he explained, his baritone filled with sorrow. “They’re expecting me to do that.”
“Marcus, please!” Helen begged, squeezing his skin in her hand, as she leaned closer to him. “I know it’s dangerous, but you have to try.”
This time, he did not dignify her suggestion with a response. Marcus averted his gaze from her and looked up at the road ahead, heaving a long, heavy sigh. Helen would not force the issue. She took her hand off of him and leaned her back against her seat, as a feeling of desolate helplessness overwhelmed her.
If only you’d take my advice… Yeah, visiting your father would be risky, but is there anything else we can do? God, I’m going crazy here…
25
The sun was about to set in the clear sky, as Helen and Marcus crossed the small town of East Berwick. Even six hours after the incident at the diner, Helen could not find peace. In this dark hour, the young blonde attempted to find hope, but, despite her best efforts, she simply couldn’t. The two of them were on the run, fighting to survive an uneven battle. They had managed to escape their pursuers, but Helen knew that they were up against a much more powerful enemy than they were. It was only a matter of time before they found them again. Despite her poor emotional state however, she couldn’t deny that the traumatic experience had brought the two of them even closer. Helen felt more connected to Marcus and would stand by him, whether he decided to visit to his father or not.
A short while later, they came across a small motel, on the outskirts of Berwick, that looked inviting. Emotionally drained and exhausted, Helen requested that they stop there for the night. Marcus indulged her, but he had to keep her truck away from prying eyes. So, he drove around the building and parked it behind the bushes.
With her suitcases in his hands, Marcus checked them in to the motel. He set them down on the floor, as Helen explored their room. But, much to her surprise, he would not go get his own suitcase. He merely closed the door behind him.
“Marcus, what are you doing?” She inquired, folding her arms across her chest. “Aren’t you…”
“I’ve thought about what you said.” He interrupted her, his voice firm. “You’re right. I need to go see my father.”
Relief flashed across Helen’s face. His short sentence lit a beacon of hope inside her, as she strolled towards him. At the same time though, she recalled what he had told her earlier that day, about the presence of government agents near his father’s house. But, this time, Helen would not allow fear to consume her. Marcus had reached a vital de
cision, one that could potentially save their lives.
“You’ve just made me very happy.” She said, her voice feathery, a small smile forming on her face, as she lifted her palms to his chest. “What changed your mind?”
“You,” he stated, gazing down into her eyes. “What happened today shook me up pretty badly. I don’t want to see that same fear in your eyes again.”
“Thank you.” Helen whispered, nodding at the same time.
“I’m sorry, country girl,” Marcus spoke in a much softer tone. “You’re going through all of this because of me. Because I…”he paused; “liked you too much to stay away from you.”
“Please, don’t talk like that,” Helen requested, shaking her head in disapproval. “I made a choice. You didn’t force me into anything.”
“You didn’t know the risks back then.” He sighed, raising his hands to her face. “I should have told you sooner.”
“Stop,” she forcefully commanded him. “Now’s not the time to feel guilty, ok? What’s done is done.”
“And if my father doesn’t help?” Marcus wondered, caressing her face. “Then what do we do?”
“We need happy thoughts right now.” Helen smiled, sliding her hands up his chest. “I think he will. What kind of father would turn his back on his own son?”
“Do me a favor.” He said, his voice dropping down an octave. “If you don’t hear from me by dawn, leave this place. Take the first flight out to L.A.”
Filthy Desires: A Romantic Suspense Collection Page 107
