Once Tyler’s back with the hot water, Thomas starts cleaning the blood away from the wound and Ethan comes alive. He sits up in the bed, a string of curses bouncing off the walls.
“Hold him down!” Thomas yells.
I grab his good side, throwing all my weight on him to get him back on the mattress while Tyler catches both legs. Thomas lays one arm across his chest while he digs in his bag with the other.
Ethan is looking at me with wild eyes, especially after seeing Thomas and Tyler. Not only is pain etched across his face, but confusion as well.
Ethan repeats, “What did you do?” over and over and I feel horrible.
Thomas pulls out a syringe and a small glass bottle. Once the syringe is full, he jabs it in Ethan’s arm, right near the gunshot wound.
Ethan fights for another few seconds then his eyes roll back in his head and he falls against the mattress.
“Now, let’s see just where this bullet went.” And Thomas goes to work.
Rules for disappearing
by Witness Protection prisoner #18A7R04M:
There’s a time to cut and run….
New rule by Anna Boyd:
And there’s a time to stay and fight….
dark out. Thomas and Tyler left the room hours ago. I don’t think they locked the door behind them, but I haven’t checked—they know I won’t leave without Ethan.
Teeny’s at the foot of the gigantic bed, asleep. And Ethan is still unconscious.
His last words to me repeat on an infinite loop in my head: What did you do…what did you do…
Thomas pulled the bullet out of the meaty part of Ethan’s arm and stitched him back up. He said Ethan would be asleep for a while, but I think it’s been too long. All I ever heard about concussions was to keep the person awake. But I don’t think Thomas could have gotten the bullet out with Ethan conscious.
I hid the gun we took from Mateo the second Thomas left the room. It’s a handgun, but I don’t know what kind, and it has some sort of tube screwed to the end of it. A silencer, maybe? I guess that’s why no one came running when he fired those two shots.
By now Will has gotten to town and he’s waiting in some unknown club for Ethan to show.
This is so screwed up.
The door creaks open and Tyler’s head pops in. “You have to be hungry. Come down and eat something.”
I’m hesitant to leave Ethan and Teeny, but my stomach makes the most god-awful noise once he mentions food and I remember I haven’t eaten today.
“Can I bring something up for them for when they wake up?”
He nods, and just like that, he’s the friendly host.
I follow Tyler down a hall toward a set of steps. There are lots of doors, all shut, but once we get downstairs the whole room opens up. There is a living area with several different groupings of furniture, a long table and chairs, and then the kitchen. It’s warm-feeling, which is not what I expected. I scan the room but don’t see Thomas anywhere.
“Who’s place is this?” I ask.
Tyler shakes his head and answers, “Please don’t ask me too much.” He’s different and I wonder what brought on the change—Ethan beating the crap out of him or something else.
He gestures for me to sit at the bar while he moves around the kitchen. He pulls out long, slender white packages and small bags of chips from a white grocery bag.
“I got some roast beef po’boys. I think you’ll like them.”
I’m so hungry I could eat dirt, so I rip the package open the second he hands it to me and shove a huge amount of the sandwich in my mouth.
He brings over a small Styrofoam container and says, “It’s better if you dip it in the gravy first.”
I nod and try to choke down the food. It is a little dry and it’s hard to force it down my throat.
“Can I have some water?”
Tyler brings two bottles and sits beside me.
We eat in silence and it’s awkward. There are a million things I want to ask him but I don’t know where I stand with him right now.
“Look, I’m sorry,” he finally says. “If I had it to do over again in Florida, I would do things a lot differently.”
I finish chewing and think about what to say to him. This is not what I expected. At all. I need to feel him out, see what’s ticking in that brain of his.
“I thought after what Ethan did to you, you might not help him.”
His left eye twitches before he says, “I would try to kill someone, too, if I thought they hurt you. He just doesn’t understand what’s going on here. I’m trying to save you. That’s all I ever wanted to do. I would have never given you the journal back if I’d have known all this was going to happen. I swear. And I’m glad you trusted me enough to call when you needed help. Better late than never. No matter what I will always be here for you.”
He’s sick. Seriously sick in the head. Does he honestly think there’s hope for us?
He reaches over and squeezes my hand. I hate him. The desire to hit him, like Ethan did, is so strong, but another idea pops in my head—what if I use this moment to my advantage? If I can make him believe I’ve forgiven him and there is the slightest chance for us, then maybe I can get us out of this mess alive. I just hope I can act nice without showing how I really feel about him.
I turn toward him, letting my knees bump his. Tucking a stray piece of hair behind my ear, I say, “This is all so hard to take in, but thank you for making sure Thomas didn’t kill me or my family.”
He blushes and plays with his food. “I wanted to tell you so many times who I really was.” He looks around the room, making sure we’re alone. Even though we’re the only ones in here, he leans in close and whispers, “I’m so sorry about your mom. I really liked her. Is she getting better?”
Tears threaten to roll down my face. I do not want to talk about my mother with him.
“She is. I’m hoping she can come home soon. I’m hoping I can, too.”
Tyler scans the room again. “It won’t be long, I promise. Thomas plans on making his move soon. If it all goes as planned, you could be headed home in a couple of days.”
“Do you really think he’ll let us leave? You’ve been unmasked. And now we’ve seen this place.” I gesture to the house around me. “How did you explain we got away?”
“Yes, I think you’ll be going home soon,” he answers with such conviction that I’m sure he believes it. “And I told him everything.” The last part comes out in a whisper.
“Was he mad at you?”
“He wasn’t happy.”
“Will you please answer a few questions, just between you and me?” I move in a little bit closer, maintaining eye contact with him. “This whole thing is making me crazy and I just don’t know how you could be a part of it. Please help me understand.”
His eyes lock on my mouth just like Ethan’s do right before he comes in for a kiss. It takes everything in me not to back away. I’ve reeled him in; now I just need to keep him on the hook.
“What do you want to know?”
“If you’re Daniel Sanders, who did Agent Williams have in custody?”
I’m starting out with something easy and nonthreatening, hoping to ease him into opening up.
He cracks a small smile and says, “Thomas had someone at my apartment pretending to be me.”
And now I’m going to try to go a little deeper with him. “You and Thomas seem so close but so different, obviously. I don’t understand that.”
“Very different. We had the same mom but different dads. He had a…hard upbringing, living with his dad. I didn’t meet him until I was ten. Mom died and I was just about to be put in the foster system when he showed up. I couldn’t stay with him…since he, um, travels a lot, but he enrolled me in a really nice boarding school. Came to visit all the time. He was there for all the p
arent stuff. I don’t know what would have happened to me if it wasn’t for him.”
Was not expecting that. It sounds more like the Thomas I knew in Natchitoches than what I see today.
“But how can you be okay with what he does? Why would you help him?”
Tyler looks uncomfortable now, and I’m regretting coming on too strong.
“I didn’t know what he was until after you left Florida. Walked in…in on the middle of something….” He gets up from the stool and takes our empty plates to the sink, rinses them, and loads them into the dishwasher. “You gotta understand, he was raised very different from me. He grew up in that environment. My mom got away, but she wasn’t able to save him. He’s all she used to talk about, and she constantly worried over what kind of person he would turn into…and what he saw…. He can’t help what he is.”
He doesn’t continue and I don’t push because I feel like he’s seconds from closing off and there’s still more I want to learn.
“What does Thomas do exactly? Is he just an assassin? Or does he do other…things?”
Tyler turns his back to me and I scoot off the stool, joining him in the kitchen. I turn him around and step in close. I don’t feel bad playing him like this. At all. He’s under some crazy delusions if he can make excuses for his brother murdering people for a living and for his part in this.
I put my hands in his and say, “Please help me understand.”
I can see him cave before his mouth even opens. “He works for the Vega family. Always has. When he was younger, he did odd jobs and he worked his way up. Usually, the only people he…takes care of…are just as bad as the people he works for. His dad had the same job before he died.”
“You realize he’s sucking you into this same life. He convinced you to befriend a girl he was paid to kill, and you agreed to do it.”
“No! It wasn’t like that. I thought at first he just needed some information from you. When I found out about the contract, I made him swear, on our mother’s grave, that he wouldn’t harm you or your family. He gave me his word. We’re the only family we’ve got. He wouldn’t lie to me.”
I drop his hands and turn away, too disgusted to keep up the pretense any longer. Grabbing the sack with the rest of the po’boys and a few bottles of water, I start to leave the kitchen but I can’t help one last parting remark. “Tyler, just because we’re still alive doesn’t mean he didn’t harm my family.”
Rules for disappearing
by Witness Protection prisoner #18A7R04M:
Only use public transportation….
New rule by Anna Boyd:
You can’t always be that picky. Sometimes you have to use any resource available.
awake when I get back to the room. His face is pale and he looks pissed but I can’t help but smile when I see his eyes are open.
“You’re up!”
I rush to the bed and sit down a little too hard, his face scrunching up in pain the minute I make contact with the bed.
“Sorry. Sorry.”
He struggles to a sitting position and a bead of sweat breaks out across his brow.
“Are you okay?”
He grunts and squirms, until he finally gets in a position where he’s comfortable. “Why are we here, Anna?”
I was expecting the pissed tone but I cringe anyway.
“What else did you expect me to do? That man shot you. He told me that he could find us anywhere. That we would never be able to hide from him. You passed out blocks from the hotel. The last thing you said was don’t call the police. Or an ambulance.” I stand up and pace beside the bed. “We talked about this earlier and decided it wasn’t safe to go to the cops. I didn’t know what else to do. You needed stitches and I knew Thomas could do that. I also knew Thomas may be the only match for Mateo. I didn’t know what to do and was just trying to keep us alive.”
I get up from the bed and walk into the adjoining bathroom to wet a washcloth. Deep breaths, I think. Deep breaths.
I get back to the bed and kneel down beside it. “I can’t handle any of this if we’re fighting. I was so scared. I didn’t know what to do. I don’t trust Thomas—or Tyler—at all, but I can only deal with one threat at a time and Mateo seemed to be the biggest threat in that moment.”
He reaches for my hand. “I don’t want to fight either. My head and arm are killing me and Thomas’s face is not one I liked waking up to.” He pulls me closer with his good arm and kisses me gently. “I just hate that we’re right back in this position.” He tries to lift his left arm but it doesn’t go higher than about an inch. “Especially with this useless arm.”
“Just wait till you hear what she promised him,” Teeny says from the foot of the bed. “Is there food? Because I smell something delicious and I’m about to starve to death.”
Crap. I was hoping she would forget to mention that little bargain I made.
I move away from the bed and grab a po’boy out of the bag, unwrapping it on a side table in the little sitting area on the other side of the room. I need to get Teeny as far away from Ethan as possible. She finishes about half the sandwich before I get the top off the gravy container.
“What bargain?”
“Are you hungry?” I ask, completely ignoring his question.
“What bargain?” he asks again.
“I told Thomas I would go along with whatever he needed if he would help you. Here, take a bite, you need to eat.”
He drops his head back and lets out a string of curses.
“She also promised that it would be just her helping, not us, too,” Teeny calls from across the room.
Thanks, Teeny.
Ethan pushes the sandwich away but I bring it right back in.
“Look, if we’re going to survive this, I can’t have you weak from hunger. Eat.”
Begrudgingly, he takes a few gravy-dipped bites then pushes the food away again. I hand him some water and he downs the bottle.
“You’re not doing it,” he says. “No matter what he wants, you’re just not. I don’t care what you promised him. And as soon as I can get out of this bed, we’re gonna figure out how to get out of here. What time is it?”
“When I was in the kitchen, the clock on the oven said seven thirty.”
“Shit. Will got here hours ago.”
“Where is he? I never asked you that.”
Ethan struggles with the blanket wrapped around him and pushes my hands away when I try to help.
“Remember that club last night, the one with the girls standing around outside?”
“Y’all went to Barely Legal? Those girls were disgusting.”
He shakes his head, then drops it in his hands like that small movement hurt too much. “No, we went to the place next door. The Blues Club.”
“You think he’s still there?”
“Yeah, I’m sure he’ll wait all night for us.”
Teeny finishes the sandwich and stands at the end of the bed, licking her fingers. “She got the gun from that guy, so at least there’s that.”
This makes him perk up. “Where is it? Are there any bullets left?”
Teeny digs it out of the potted plant and hands it to Ethan.
“Whoa,” he breathes out. “A Glock 26 9mm with a silencer.” He empties the chamber and there’re five bullets left. Studying one of the bullets, he lets out a soft whistle.
“What is it? Is there something weird about the bullets?”
“They’re subsonic.”
“What does that mean,” Teeny asks before I have a chance.
“It means the bullet travels slower than the speed of sound. Most bullets travel faster than the speed of sound and that loud ‘crack’ you hear is when the bullet breaks the sound barrier. With these bullets and a silencer, this gun is very quiet.”
“So that’s why no on
e on the street heard him shooting at us,” I add.
He looks at me and asks, “Yeah. How’d we get away from him? My brain is so fuzzy right now I can’t remember.”
“I knocked Mateo out with a beer bottle and when he fell, I picked up the gun and hid it in my jeans.”
His mouth is wide-open—obviously impressed. “Damn.”
For the first time today, a grin breaks out across my face.
He turns back to the gun and reloads it. He holds it out to me and I bury it back in the potted plant, then sit back near him on the bed.
“How do you know all that…about guns and bullets and the sound barrier?” Teeny asks.
Ethan shrugs then winces from the pain of the movement. “I’ve been around guns all my life. My grandpa loved collecting them.”
“I found out a little more from Tyler,” I say. “He and Thomas have the same mom but not the same dad. Tyler said he didn’t meet Thomas until their mom died when he was ten. Thomas took care of him.”
Ethan leans back against the bed and just watches me so I keep talking.
“Tyler said Thomas has worked for Vega since he was a kid. Worked his way up and does the same job his dad used to do.”
I’m rambling but I can’t help it. Ethan looks at me funny and it’s making me nervous.
“But anyway, I didn’t get specific plans. Just, you know, background kind of stuff.”
“I hope you found out his favorite color and shoe size, too.” The sarcasm is not lost on me.
“And you’re pissed again. That’s great.”
“Yes, Anna, I’m pissed. I’m pissed that while I’m stuck in this bed, you’re getting chummy with some stalker brother of a second-generation assassin.”
“I’m doing everything I can to find out what’s going on! That’s it!”
After a few minutes, he’s sitting on the side of the bed. “Where’s the bathroom?”
I point to a door on the other side of the room as Ethan pushes off the bed.
“How do you feel?” I ask.
“Like I got shot and kicked in the head.” And then the bathroom door slams shut.
Ethan is not up to handling whatever Thomas has planned. And I know him—he will push himself into a worse situation just to save me and Teeny. And no telling what will happen when he and Tyler are in the same room.
The Rules for Breaking Page 18
