by Tabatha Kiss
“Let them go—”
“They know too much. You know the rules.” Mercer’s lips twitch. “You’ve done it before, after all.”
Fear plagues Fox’s eyes. “Mercer…”
“Let’s take them inside,” Mercer says. “I don’t feel like dragging bodies around today.”
“Fox—” I whimper as Smith grabs my arm and pulls me back up again.
“I have to hand it to you, Fox,” Mercer says. “They do look awfully alike. Well done.” Fox says nothing as he rises to his feet. “I’m excited now. I get to make you watch her die twice.”
Fox closes his eyes and walks beside me towards the house with his hands behind his head.
“I’m sorry, Fox,” I whisper.
“This isn’t your fault, Dani.”
We walk up the porch stairs and Smith holds the door open for us. The other masked man nudges us forward with his gun.
I look over my shoulder. Darla’s behind me with her head down. Tears of panic fall from her eyes. Cora also weeps quietly while my father seethes with anger.
Everyone in the world I care about is right here, following me to our deaths.
“On your knees,” Smith says.
We line up in the living room and Mercer gestures us down to the floor.
“Which one will it be first, Fox?” he asks, licking his lips. He points the gun at me. “The real one? Or the plastic one?” He shifts the barrel towards Darla but she’s in too much shock to react.
Fox doesn’t answer. His eyes shift behind Mercer and the others, following the silent movement coming from the kitchen.
Mrs. Clark sneaks in, her feet shifting ever-so-lightly on the carpet beneath her. She raises her shotgun and points it at Smith.
“Me,” Fox says. “Me first.”
“Fine.” Mercer points his gun and lays it against Fox’s head.
Mrs. Clark pulls the trigger and a spray of bullets drop Smith to the floor in a blood-red heap.
Mercer flinches in surprise, his eyes growing wide. Fox snatches his wrist and twists his arm to make him drop the gun. Mercer’s finger slides across the trigger, firing a bullet right passed Fox’s ear before it slips from his hand and clatters to the floor.
My father lets out a roar and rushes forward to slam against the masked man before he can spin back around. They tumble to the floor but he can’t do much with his hands tied behind his back.
“Dad!” I scream. I grab Mercer’s gun off the floor, fueled by adrenaline, and point it across the room. My nerves lock with my finger on the trigger but I don’t dare pull it with my father so close to the target.
Mercer lashes out and punches Fox, knocking him against me. I feel Fox’s expert grip on me as he pushes me away from Mercer. He punches again and lands his knuckles against Fox’s jawline.
Mrs. Clark pumps her shotgun and points it at the man on the floor. “Don’t move,” she warns him.
He reaches out to take her gun from her but Sammy leaps into the room. He clamps his teeth around his neck and I turn away as his screams pierce my ears.
I shift my focus back to Fox. He and Mercer trade blows, each one so evenly matched I can’t tell who’s winning. They spin and bash and dodge and kick. I can’t keep my gun on Mercer long enough to fire a clean shot—
Mercer lunges for me and wraps his hand around my neck. He takes complete control of me and forces the gun next to my head with my own finger on the trigger.
“Dani—!” Fox freezes, his chest heaving for breath. “Mercer, don’t—”
He pulls me backward with him, passed the others and my father, and drags me outside to the porch.
Fox bends over and grabs the rifle from Smith’s dead hands. “You’ve got nowhere to go, Mercer,” he says, following us outside. “Let her go.”
Mercer doesn’t stop. He digs the gun into my temple and shifts me even closer to him while leading me farther down the driveway. “Go ahead, Fox,” he chuckles. “You think you have a clear shot?”
Fox raises the rifle and stares down the sights. “At this range, I don’t need one.”
Mercer laughs. “I doubt I’ll go down before getting off just one shot at her. You can spend the next few hours separating chunks of our brains.”
“Fox—” I cry.
“It’s okay, Dani.” He grabs the bolt and pulls it back to reload.
“Come on, Fox!” Mercer growls passed my ear. “Take the shot. I dare you! You can end this now. Just shoot her through the heart and you’ll hit me, too!”
Fox blinks with hesitation.
I quiver with fear as his eyes fall on mine. “Fox…”
He exhales slowly. “Dani… close your eyes.”
Mercer’s arms go tense around me. “You shoot me and the boss will come after you, Fox! She’ll come after everyone you’ve ever cared for!”
“No,” Fox says. He lays his finger over the trigger. “I’m pretty sure I’m doing her a favor.”
I squeeze my eyes closed and the shot rings out.
The bullet strikes me first, sending both of us back and to the ground. Pain rips me apart from the inside. I open my mouth to scream but no sound comes out. My ears ring. I see nothing but red…
Until it all fades to black.
Chapter 21
Fox
All I ever wanted to do was protect her.
In the end, I almost killed her.
The doctor says she’ll be fine. Mrs. Clark’s skills are quite possibly the only thing about her that hasn’t aged. Her methods are a bit old-fashioned but there’s a reason why a hot iron is a staple for cauterizing wounds.
Bennett drove us into the city, shouting loudly as he often does. I sat in the backseat with one finger on her pulse, wondering if she was going to die in my arms. She did the same for me, I guess.
I look at my hands, still stained red with her blood. No one has said a word to me since I sat down in this chair next to her bed. I think the nurses are scared of me but that’s okay. Maybe they should be. I’m the one that put Roxie Roberts in the hospital.
I knew what I was doing. Mercer never expected me to take the shot and I doubt he considered their height differences when he dared me to do it. Dani’s shoulder lined up perfectly with his heart. Guess which one I let bleed out in Mrs. Clark’s driveway.
“Fox?”
I pull my eyes away from Dani to see my mother standing above me with a vending machine cup in her hands. “Hey, Mom.”
She offers me the cup and I take it from her. Her eyes graze my hands for a moment. It takes everything in her to keep her from flinching. She sits down in the chair next to mine and her hands fidget in her lap. “I know this is probably a weird time to say this but… it’s really nice to see you again, Fox.”
I chuckle slightly. “I’m sorry you had to think I was gone for so long.”
“Me, too.”
“I never wanted to put you through that…” I bring the cup to my nose and breathe in the warm fumes. Hot chocolate. She always used to bring me this after a bad day. Some things never change.
“I feel like I knew,” she says.
“What?”
“I knew my son was still alive.”
I look at her and she smiles at me. “Yeah?”
She shrugs. “You’re my little boy, Fox. Whatever you’ve done— whatever you’ve had to do— it doesn’t matter to me. I’m still going to love you.”
“Don’t be too sure about that, Mom,” I mutter.
She stands up and leans over to kiss my cheek. “Try me.” I smile. “If you must leave again, check-in every so often. For me.”
“I will. I promise.”
She wanders from the room and I take a slow sip from my cup before setting it down. I stand up and move over to the bed.
Dani.
You’re free now. Free to go home and forget. Free to walk around in public again without hiding your face. Free to move on from all of this.
From me.
I lean down and lay my fore
head against hers. I don’t have to worry about waking her. She’s so sedated right now; she won’t wake up for several hours but I shouldn’t wait that long. There’s just one thing I have to do first; something I swore I’d never do to her again.
“Goodbye, Dani.” I kiss her soft lips. “I love you.”
I reach into my pocket to feel for the flash drive as I step outside into the hallway.
“Leaving again, I hope.” Bennett stands near the door with his arms crossed. I don’t blame him for the hostility. He watched me shoot his daughter. He also watched Mrs. Clark and I save her life afterward but this is Bennett, after all.
“Yeah,” I say.
“Good riddance to you,” he mutters, passing around me to enter Dani’s room.
“Bennett.”
He pauses in the doorway and I hold out my hand. His eyes fall and he stares at it for several moments before giving me a silent handshake.
I turn around and head for the exit.
***
I’ve lost track of how long I’ve been sitting here. It has to be more than twelve hours.
At least twelve hours of sitting in this chair with my hands locked in cuffs attached to the metal table in front of me. Seems a little overkill for dealing with a man that turned himself in but I’m not about to voice the complaint. Not that I could since I’ve spent the last three hours staring straight ahead with no one to talk to.
I guess they have their hands full with that master file. Decades of names and numbers to sift through and corroborate. I heard the helicopter pass overhead a few hours ago. That was most likely the F.B.I. consult they would have asked for. I expected more of an interrogation from them by now.
The door opens and Detective Lawrence steps back inside. He looks about as tired as I am with fresh bags under his eyes and grease forming in his shaggy, brown hair. He’s lost that gotcha look he had several hours before when the man that kidnapped a movie star wandered into his precinct with his hands on his head.
“Mr. Fitzpatrick…” he mumbles and sits down in front of me.
“Long day, Detective?”
He reaches into his pocket. “Your lawyer is here…”
“My lawyer?” I repeat.
The door bursts open. “There you are! Fox — don’t say another word.”
Boxcar strides into the room and slams a briefcase down on the cold table. He wears an old, wrinkled suit but at least he combed his hair. “Detective, I told you to release my client! Mr. Fitzpatrick is being illegally detained and I demand you set him free.”
“He confessed to kidnapping—”
“Has the family pressed charges? Better yet, the young woman has denied the entire thing — said she was with him of her own freewill the whole time.”
Lawrence narrows his eyes. “We still have him for his involvement in a terrorist organization.”
I open my mouth to speak, but Boxcar holds up a hand to shut me up. “Oh, yes… that so called master file you have on… who are they? Spider whatever?”
“Snake Eyes.”
“Sounds like bullshit to me,” Boxcar says. “And tell me, Detective, have you found Mr. Fitzpatrick’s name anywhere in that file?”
I look at the detective but I follow Boxcar’s lead and stay quiet.
Detective Lawrence leans forward in his chair. “No,” he admits. He points at my chest. “But he’s got the tattoo.”
Boxcar rolls his eyes. “I have a tattoo of Tweety Bird on my ass, Detective, but I am not, in fact, a Looney Tune. Either you charge my client with a crime right now or I will sue the shit out of you and this entire department.”
I bite my cheek to keep from smiling.
Lawrence’s eyes twitch with anger as he stands up. “You’re not that great of a lawyer, are you?”
Boxcar doesn’t answer. He stands there like a wall, patiently waiting for the detective to make his move.
Finally, Lawrence withdraws a set of small, silver keys from his pocket. “Mr. Fitzpatrick…” he mumbles as he unlocks my cuffs. “You’re free to go.”
“But I—”
“Fox, do as the man says…” Boxcar interrupts me and gestures to the door with purposeful eyes.
I follow him with confusion, completely amazed that no one bothers to shoot me as I walk towards the exit. The sun strikes my face as I step outside and I take a deep breath of fresh air. I enjoy it for a few seconds before turning towards Boxcar. “What the fuck was that?”
His face splits with a long smile. “I owed you one, so I figured I’d give you two.”
“What are you even doing here? I thought you’d be in Hong Kong by now.”
We start walking towards the parking lot and he places a shocked hand on his chest. “My friend tells me he’s about to turn himself in and I do nothing? What do you take me for?”
“The guilt tore you apart, eh?”
“I made it all the way down to Florida before I had to turn back…” he admits.
I look over my shoulder at the police station. “And why didn’t they find me in the master file?”
“Oh, please.” He waves a hand. “That was kid stuff. I just had to access the F.B.I.’s private network and wait for them to plug the damn thing in. Didn’t take but a minute once they did.”
I laugh. “Thanks, Box.”
“Look, I know you feel like you deserve to be in there but there are plenty of people in this world that disagree. I can think of one in particular that’s going to be very excited to see you.” We pause next to his rental car and he fires a disappointed stare at me. “But let me guess… you don’t plan on going to her?” I scratch an itch in my beard, saying nothing. “Dude… that’s cold.”
“She’s better off—”
“With you,” he completes. “She’s better off with you.”
“I’m not worth throwing her life away for.”
“Don’t make that decision for her. At the very least, tell her you’re a free man. She deserves that.”
“She deserves more than I can give her.”
He pauses, his eyes sidetracked by memory. “Fox, since the day I met you there’s been one constant truth in the world: I’m the coward and you’re the cool guy. Don’t mess that up.”
I nod at the station. “I think after what you just did in there, you’ve earned a day at being the cool guy, Boxcar.”
His lips curl. “That was pretty cool, wasn’t it?” He takes a quick breath, enjoying his moment. “But still… you don’t want to be the coward that loses the girl. Believe me. I know.”
“She’d take you back in a heartbeat, you know that,” I point out.
“Yeah, well…” He shrugs. “Maybe I’ll head out west soon. My great aunt just died so I’ve got some junk to pawn off.”
I shake my head. “Classy as ever, Box.”
“Some things never change.” He tosses his briefcase into the backseat. “Come on. I’ll take you back to your farm hideout. I hear you’ve got some bodies to bury.”
I take one last look around, filling my lungs with fresh air, before lowering myself into the car.
Chapter 22
Dani
I look out the window from the backseat, staring at the waving and screaming crowd as our car slowly rolls out of the LAX parking lot.
“Roxie! Roll down your window!”
“Tell us what happened, Roxie!”
“What do you know about Snake Eyes?”
“Is it true your stepbrother was involved with them?”
“How did you survive?”
“Damn vultures…” my father groans from the seat beside me. “Don’t worry, Roxie. We’ll get you inside before they snap a single photo. I won’t have you in a sling all over the damn internet.”
“It’s okay, Dad.”
“This is a nightmare,” he continues. “I’m getting you home and you’re going to stay there until you’re completely healed and your hair grows back. Lena’s waiting at the house with a stylist so we can do something about the color
. Oh—” He reaches into his bag and pulls out a black DVD case. “The producer sent over a screener of Night Trials 3. Wants you to watch it tonight and get back to him.”
I take the case and toss it into my purse. “Okay.”
“Hopefully, Bruckberg will agree to a house call…” He reaches into his pocket for his phone. “Damn stepbrother of yours ruining everything, as usual. At least now he’s in jail…”
I watch the world roll by my window. “He saved my life, Dad. Yours, too.”
“Yeah, yeah…” he murmurs. He holds his phone to his ear. “Yeah, hi. This is Bennett Roberts. I’m returning a call… Why? I was kidnapped in fucking Iowa, that’s why…”
I block out his voice. You’d think he’d give me more than a week off after getting shot but I guess that’s asking a little too much.
My new phone buzzes in my pocket.
Are we keeping the hair? My boss needs to know… ;)
I smile. Such a strange new friend I’ve gained from all of this. I send a reply to Darla while my father’s voice gathers volume.
“Yes, I’ll hold…” He scoffs to himself. “Remind me to find you a new bodyguard, too, and to get a proper background check done this time…”
“Okay, Dad.” I stare out the window and my eyes catch the pink neon sign on the corner.
Fawn’s Pawn.
I lean forward in my seat to get the driver’s attention. “Excuse me. Pull in here, please.”
“Umm, Roxie?” Dad says. “What are you doing?”
The car rolls to a stop in the small parking lot. “I just have to make a quick stop,” I say, grabbing my purse and stepping outside.
“No, you don’t—” He pauses as a voice starts in his ear. “Yes, Mr. Bruckberg. I’m here—”
I close the door behind me and walk quickly towards the shop with my head down.
Caleb grins at me from across the counter. “Of all the pawn shops, in all the towns, in all the world, she walks into mine.”
“Hey, Caleb…” I greet. “How are you?”
