by Jamie Canosa
Frank burst back into the room. “Sylvie?” He took her other hand and bent close to her face. “Syl, can you hear me?”
She moaned quietly, but didn’t rouse.
“Maybe we should let her rest.” My thumb swept over her knuckles.
Frank shut his eyes and dropped his head into his hands, scrubbing them furiously over his face. He was worn ragged. Hadn’t slept in days, hadn’t eaten. He’d barely left her side.
“Why don’t you catch some shut eye? I’ll stay with her.”
He looked like he was about to argue, but it fled on a deep sigh. Pressing a kiss to his sister’s pale cheek, he dragged himself from the room. I heard the springs on the couch squeal in protest and a few minutes later the sounds of his snoring.
“It’s gonna be alright.” I squeezed Sylvie’s hand, hoping she could feel the comfort I wanted to give her. “You hang in there, Syl. You keep fighting. We’re not giving up on you, don’t you give up on us.”
She slept for several more hours. The sun was casting a pinkish-orange glow on the wall before I felt her begin to rouse.
“Sawyer?” Her voice cracked and I reached for the cup of water that was always sitting on her bedside table.
“I’m here, Syl. Have a drink.” I bent the straw and helped her slip it between her lips.
She only managed a little before she started choking. I set the cup aside and helped her sit up a little straighter.
“What happened?” She wiped some of the liquid from her chin. “I know something happened. I can feel it.”
“You had another seizure,” I told her gently.
Sylvie slumped. For a long time she didn’t say anything. She just stared at the comforter covering her legs.
“Sawyer?” Her head came up and I could already tell from the look in her eye that I wasn’t going to like whatever she had to say. “I need you to do me a favor. I need you to make me a promise.”
I wanted to promise her anything in the world. The moon if she’d only get well. But I couldn’t. “What kind of favor?”
“No more hospitals.” Her yellow-tinged eyes bored into mine. “I mean it. No more. I’m not going back. No matter what happens. I know the bills are piling up and—”
“Sylvie, you don’t need to worry about that. Let Frank and me—”
“I do. I worry about it. And I worry about Frank. And I worry about you.” She reached out and closed her hand around mine. “There’s nothing they can do for me at the hospital that we can’t do here. I talked to the doctors, Sawyer. I know what’s going to happen.”
“They have medicine. They can help you manage the pain. Make you comfortable.”
“In a hard bed with machines all around me and nurses poking and prodding at me all night long? No. I’m comfortable here, Sawyer. With you and Frank. In my own bed.” Her watery eyes pleaded with me to understand. “The pain isn’t so bad. I can deal with it.”
She could. She was raised to deal with pain. Something Frank and I devoted ourselves to sparing her. We’d failed.
“I’m sorry, Sylvie.” My fingers brushed over the rough patch of skin on her temple. “I’m so sorry this is happening to you. I wish there was more I could do.”
“I know.” Sylvie forced a smile that broke my heart. “You and Frank both. But there isn’t. There isn’t anything anyone can do. Except promise me that whatever time I have left, I won’t have to spend it in a cold, sterile hospital room.”
“Don’t talk like that. Syl, you’re not gonna—”
She pressed her fingers to my lips, silencing me. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” Her fingers drifted over my jaw and across my cheek. “I love you, Sawyer.”
“I love you, too, Sylvie.” It may not have been romantic, but it was love and it was deep and it was fierce. “I always will.”
“Three goddamn days. They should have gotten the paperwork three goddamn days ago. And nothing.”
I was sitting on the sofa, watching Frank pace a hole in the floor. “What happened when you called them?”
“They put me on hold and then disconnected. Twice!” He slammed to a stop and spun to look at me.
In the quiet that followed we could both hear Sylvie wheezing. Her breathing had gotten worse and worse over the past forty-eight hours. Now she was gasping for every breath. It wore her out arguing all morning with Frank about going back to the hospital, but in the end she’d won. Neither of us could ever deny her anything.
“That’s it.” Frank tagged my phone and stormed over to the file Steven Marsh gave us, lying open on the kitchen table. He started rooting through page after page until he found what he was looking for. “Screw procedure. Screw the fucking legal department. I’m going to the top.”
He hadn’t been able to reach any of the board members, but Frank honestly believed he was going to speak with Reed Tanzen, the CEO of Paragon Gen. The look on his face when he said it? I believed him, too.
We both would have lost that bet.
An hour later I left Sylvie’s room after she’d fallen asleep to find Frank zipping up his duffle. “Where are you going?”
“The motherfucker told his secretary to tell me he was out of town on business. I heard him tell her to tell me he was out of fucking town. Let him tell me that to my goddamn face.” He threw the duffle over his shoulder and collected his wallet from the end table.
“Hold on.” I stepped into his path to the door. “You can’t just leave. It could take days for you to get an appointment to see him. Sylvie needs you here.”
“I’m doing this for Sylvie. Now get out of my way.”
“Frank, don’t—”
A desperate, rattling breath crashed through the apartment. And another. And another. Tiny choking sounds in between.
“Syl!” We raced to her room, colliding in the doorway.
She was straining to breathe, her hands fisted tightly in the sheets at her sides. One moment we were in the door, the next we were at her bedside, each of us taking one of her hands. Her eyes went wide as they rolled from me to Frank.
I squeezed her hand tighter, terrified, paralyzed. I knew what this was. I knew it in my bones. “It’s okay, Sylvie. It’s okay. Don’t be afraid.” Tears clogged my voice.
Her eyes slid shut and her chest deflated.
“No. No, no, no, no, no.” Frank hit his knees, pressing her hand to his cheek. “No, Sylvie. No. Don’t go. Please, Syl, please, don’t leave me.”
The shaking started in my hands and traveled throughout my entire body. Hot, wet tears scorched paths down my cheeks. It was too late.
She was already gone.
Hours passed and Frank refused to leave her side. He didn’t speak, he didn’t cry, he just knelt beside her, clutching her hand. When the truth finally sank in, he stood and pressed a final kiss to his little sister’s forehead.
There was no sadness in his voice when he spoke. No grief, no desperation. Only pure, untamed fury. “I will make him pay for what he’s done to you. I don’t know how, but I’ll find a way. I swear it.”
*Present day*
I stared out the windshield at the open fields surrounding the stable. At the rope blowing in the breeze from the sturdy branches of a wide oak where a swing used to hang.
“Sylvie was the light of Frank’s life. When she died . . . it was like that light went out. He couldn’t hold back the darkness anymore. He went online, found a picture of your family on some website. Concocted this crazy plan to make your father confess to his part in Sylvie’s death by kidnapping his daughter. Using her as leverage.”
Fi sat stiffly in the passenger seat, worrying her lower lip between her teeth. When she’d seen my scars, she’d looked at them with such compassion. Something I didn’t deserve, especially from her. This girl, this wounded sparrow . . . She had a collection of scars herself. But where mine required an actual covering, hers could be concealed with just a smile. Somehow that was worse. To suffer alone, in silence, the way she did. To never have any physica
l proof of the pain she’d endured. The pain she’d survived . . .
“Did he do it?”
No mother, no sisters. The only significant female presence in my life was Sylvie and she’d grown up surrounded by guys. Women had always been a bit of a mystery to me, but Sparrow . . . I hadn’t the slightest clue where her head was at most of the time. “Who?”
“My father.” A tiny crease appeared across the bridge of her nose. “Did he kill Frank’s sister?”
I sighed. “Your father’s company . . .”
The whole point of this was to expose the truth, but looking at her now, the curve to her spine, the way her arms wrapped around her narrow waist, I couldn’t do it. If we succeeded, she’d learn the truth along with everyone else. If we failed . . . did she really need to know? I was beyond getting back at her father by going through her.
Fi tried to touch me last night, the desire to sooth some of that ancient pain clear in her eyes. I understood that now because I had to curl my fingers more tightly around the steering wheel to keep from reaching for her.
“You asked me before why I did this. I only gave you half the answer. I’m not just here to keep Frank out of trouble. I’m here for the girl in that picture. To keep her safe. To keep you safe.” Regret tugged like a fishhook in my gut. “I haven’t done a real great job of either of those things.”
I threw open my door and Fi moved to do the same.
“Stay here.” Not a chance in hell I was letting her walk back in there. Not ever again. “The key is in the ignition. If Frank comes out without me, I want you to go. Just drive. Find the closest police station and you tell them everything. Understand?”
“Sawyer you can't—”
“Do. You. Understand?”
She hesitated to answer, but when she did it was with a rough nod of her head. Good. It was time to put an end to this shit, and as long as she was safe I could do that.
I stalked down the alleyway in silence, hoping to hell that Frank was smart enough to see reason. We couldn’t keep doing this. I couldn’t watch someone else I cared about get hurt. Not even for Sylvie.
The stall door swung open with an ominous creak. I was cautious—on guard for any fists flying in my general direction—but Frank didn’t attack me. He wasn’t lying in wait. He wasn’t sleeping it off.
He wasn’t there at all.
Shit.
“Gone?” Sunlight brought out the golden highlights in Ophelia’s hair where she stood, arms folded across the roof of the car. “What do you mean he’s gone?”
“I mean he isn’t here.”
“You mean he ran?”
I stayed quiet, letting the sun warm my back. That had been my first thought, too. And I couldn’t deny that half my reasoning for coming back here before heading to the police station was to give him that opportunity. But the truth was I didn’t believe it for a second. Frank had never run from a damn thing his entire life. He wouldn’t run from this, either. Not before he accomplished his goal.
“I doubt it.” I pulled out my cell and dialed his number for the bazillionth time. When the ringing gave way to the same mechanical pre-recorded message I’d been getting all morning, I hung up.
Dammit. The metal roof dented under the impact of my fist.
Fi squinted into the sunlight. “If he’s done with me, but he isn’t giving up . . . Sawyer, I don’t think he’s looking for justice, anymore. I think he wants revenge. What if he goes after my father directly?”
It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. “It would have to be somewhere public. Somewhere he’d get the attention he’s looking for. Somewhere with an audience.”
Ophelia’s eyes grew wide. “I know where he’s going.”
Chapter 18
~Ophelia~
Castlehill College wasn’t all that big, but the campus was a freaking maze, and crowded as hell. Parking alone could have been an all-day affair. Not a problem for Sawyer. He cruised right up to the main entrance and threw it in park. Definitely not a parking space, but I guess a ticket from campus security was the least of his worries.
He got out and waited for me to round the hood before taking my hand. My first thought was that he did it to keep me with him—so I didn’t go running off to my father and bring the whole thing crashing down—but when he threaded his fingers through mine and gave them a squeeze, my thinking changed.
“When we get in there, you do what I tell you,” he panted as we raced across the damp, gray concrete. “If things get out of control, the keys are in the car.”
My heart lodged somewhere in my throat. This was really happening. Ahead of us, a small crowd lingered near the entrance to the Business Administration building, waiting to file inside. I scanned the faces, one after another, but Frank wasn’t among them.
We hardly blended in. I got a lot of strange looks, wearing Sawyer’s hoodie, jogging pants, and a pair of his oversized sneakers, but it was the best he had back at the stable. I couldn’t exactly show up barefoot to the annual Business Department Alumni Reception. A chance for the eager up and comers of the business world to rub elbows with the people they hoped to someday work for.
My father said it was an honor to be chosen as this year’s guest speaker. I’d been slotted to accompany him before I fell off the face of the Earth. Put a fresh face on his company and hopefully attract new blood. It hadn’t mattered that I’d wanted nothing to do with it. And even after all that had happened, here I was. Right where I didn’t want to be.
The procession moved at a snail’s pace down a boring white hallway. Billboards hung here and there with announcements pinned to them. Study groups, student employment opportunities, internships . . . the kinds of things I should have been worrying about. Instead my mind was solely focused on the likelihood that my father’s life could be in danger at that very moment, and it became a physical effort not to push and shove my way through the throng.
I doubted anyone was paying enough attention to recognize me, but I kept my head down as we were bumped and jostled into the reception hall through a door at the front of the room. A podium stood to our right as we filtered in, with row after row after row of folding chairs lined up all the way to the rear of the enormous space. They were expecting a huge turn-out. And judging by the amount of people already seated and the numbers pouring in behind us, they were going to get it. Two news cameras had been set up along the far wall. If Frank was looking for an audience, he’d found a hell of one.
“Go to the back.” Sawyer tugged me closer and bent to whisper in my ear. “Near the emergency exit and stay put.”
“Where are you going?”
He frowned as his gaze drifted over the packed room. “To look for Frank.”
It had been a fight just to get Sawyer to agree to let me come in with him at all. We didn’t even know for sure if Frank was there and my being in the wrong place at the wrong time had the potential to only make things worse. For now, I’d choose my battles. “Okay.”
Sawyer’s hand slipped from mine as I let the flow of bodies push me along toward the back of the room. The recycled air tasted stale, drying my throat. Voices carried throughout the room, filling the space with noise. Row by row I examined the audience as I moved. No Frank.
Maybe I was wrong. Maybe this wasn’t Frank’s plan at all. Maybe he had given up. Run for the hills. Gone underground.
In the rear right corner was a metal door with a push bar and a red and white sign that read, ‘Emergency Exit Alarm Will Sound’. No one noticed when I veered away from the group, but the closer I got to it, the heavier the lump in my stomach grew. Something wasn’t right. There was a chain wrapped around the bar. A heavy padlock, locking it shut.
Frank was there.
Chapter 19
~Sawyer~
*Present day*
A hush settled over the crowd as a man in a tailored suit stepped up to the mic. His dark hair glistened with a dignified silver lining around his ears as he cleared his throat and tapped the sm
all pile of papers in his hands. Mr. Reed Tanzen in the flesh. He didn’t look like half the man he pretended to be.
“I’d like to thank you all for being here today. It’s an honor and a privilege to be asked to speak with you this afternoon.” He paused long enough for the audience to decide they were, in fact, the privileged ones. “Business is a cut-throat industry. Especially when you’re on top. As you may have learned from my recent upset, some people will do just about anything to bring you down.”
His recent upset? He was talking about Fi. His daughter being kidnapped was a business upset for him. Something to be used as a teaching aid. Reed Tanzen was a Grade-A douchebag.
Tuning out the rest of his bullshit, I surveyed the crowd from my vantage point behind the solid black curtain serving as a backdrop to the podium. Where the hell was Frank? And what was he—?
My heart turned over when my gaze landed on the emergency exit. I hadn’t even realized I was looking for Fi until she wasn’t there. What if Frank got to her? I should have kept her with me. If he did anything to cause her more pain . . .
I took a step forward, searching frantically until I spotted her several yards closer than she should have been. Relief and anger clashed. She was safe, but wide, red-rimmed eyes stared back at me. Her father’s words had hurt her. My feet itched to go to her, but I couldn’t. Not now. The element of surprise was all we had on our side. I needed to find Frank before he did something monumentally stupid. Everything else had to wait.
Tanzen droned on between us as I melted back into the shadows. “To be successful you have to be willing to—”
“Lie?” Frank’s voice boomed through the quiet room. “Cheat? Steal? . . . Murder?”
Gasps traveled through the room as all eyes turned his way. Frank stood between the podium and the exit. And . . . shit, where the hell did he get a gun?
Chaos broke out as everyone reacted at once. We were too late.
“Silence!” The ear-splitting crack of a gunshot cut through the noise. Plaster drifted from the ceiling. “Sit. Down.”
