by Debra Kayn
Quint stood by the fireplace and tucked Katelynn against his side. Mark felt alone in the room. He'd come to appreciate the women in his friends' lives, and he was happy for Anders and Quint, but he couldn't imagine depending on someone else more than he relied on his friends.
He also couldn't imagine risking someone's life for the sake of love.
He'd already lost three friends he considered family. The people who should've been here and were absent in the room took him to a dark place. Joney, Two-crow, and Will deserved to be here to the end.
He drank from the glass in his hand, letting the straight whiskey warm his cold heart.
"I'm sure Evie has questions about all of us like we have about her life." Anders's gaze softened. "And, I'm sure, like us, she doesn't want to talk about what she's lived through, so I'll start out saying we had no idea that there was another child taken from state care. We always wondered if we were the only ones."
Evie held Carly's hand. Mark studied the woman, learning during the time he'd spent with her that she lacked self-confidence as if she'd had every bit of worth beaten out of her — whether physically or mentally, he couldn't tell.
What Evie lacked, Carly more than made up for and he struggled with admiring something that could've come from her father.
"Where did Jaster take you when he kidnapped you?" asked Quint.
Mark flinched at the harsh tone but leaned forward curious about Evie's answer. Besides, she knew what was in the file about them. They knew nothing about her.
Carly squeezed her mother's hand and said, "It's okay, mom. You can trust them."
Evie glanced at her daughter and returned her gaze to her lap. "He took me to his house and locked me in the bedroom. Then, he left me there for days, maybe weeks. It was hard to keep track of time."
"You've always been with him?" asked Mark.
Evie looked at him. She seemed to trust him more than the others, considering the time they'd spent together on the way back from New Mexico.
"I couldn't leave," said Evie quietly. "At first it was impossible. The room was locked, and there were guards. A few months later, I was pregnant with Carly. After she was born—a w-woman came to the house and helped me deliver her—he used my baby to keep me there. I couldn't risk anything happening to her."
Carly leaned over and kissed her mom's cheek, whispering words of love. Then, she turned to Mark. "I grew up not knowing anything about how my parents got together or what my mom had gone through. My father gave me a normal life. I went to school, joined 4-H, and could come and go from the house."
Mark rubbed his hands against his thighs. He had a hard time believing Michael Jaster had it in him to be a father to a child.
"Wait." Quint stood from the chair. "Go back to how Jaster treated Evie. There was no time between Carly being born and the years that followed that you couldn't leave?"
Evie's eyes rounded and she shook her head. "After I had given birth, he made it clear he would kill me if I tried and to prove he would, he murdered two men who'd betrayed him in front of me. I wouldn't leave my daughter that way. Who would've protected her from Michael?"
Quint raised his hand in defeat. Mark inhaled slowly. She'd made the right choice. Even if she could've run away and sought help, they knew that wouldn't stop Jaster.
"When Carly was around eight years old, I found a file in his office at the house that gave me hope that someday I could break free of him and raise my daughter on my own," said Evie.
"Our file?" asked Mark.
"Yes, except there wasn't much information in it back then. When Michael was gone from the house, sometimes a week or two at a time, I would sneak into his office and read the file. More pages were added after each trip he took. It was like reading a book or watching a television show." Evie worked her lips in worry. "I got so addicted to reading the updates, I grew afraid of him catching me, so I made a copy of the file and hid it in the kitchen where I didn't think he'd find it. Each time he returned home, he added more information, and I'd make a copy of the new report and add it to the hidden file. In the beginning, I didn't have any use for keeping it, except I was interested in what was happening to six boys. Except..."
Evie closed her eyes and ducked her chin. Carly leaned against her mom.
"Except?" asked Anders.
Carly raised her head when Evie stalled at answering. "Except, I found the file when I was snooping around. I was in the tenth grade at the time, and mom caught me reading the file. I confronted her, thinking she made up all the lies in the reports. It was unimaginable to me that my father would do the crimes contained in the file."
"You hated me," whispered Evie.
Carly's shoulders rounded. "I didn't hate you."
"What made you finally believe that what you were reading was true?" Mark sat back. "You obviously changed your mind. You came here and found us."
"It was little things at first." She looked at Mark. "I would catch the way my father looked at my mom, see her reaction to him. Suddenly, going my whole life believing she was a recluse who wanted to stay away from others and not attend parent-teacher conferences or volunteer for Valentine's Day parties wasn't good enough of an explanation for why she never went anywhere and stayed away from people. I matured, and I realized my mom and dad's relationship wasn't like the ones I witnessed my friends' parents having or on television. Then, a few months later, my father took me to school. On the way, he stopped at a gas station and had to go inside to pay. I snooped in the bag he had in the back seat and found a yellow legal pad. It had the same kind of lines as the paper he used in the file. He'd started to write a report and hadn't finished, but I recognized the same names as the others. I put the pad back, went to school, and that day, I started to plan ways to get my mother away from him."
Quint shook his head. "You planned to wait ten years and find us?"
Mark felt his friend's frustration. Trying to understand their view was clouded by his personal experience with Jaster.
"It's not her fault it took so long." Evie raised her chin. "I wouldn't let her go to the police. I knew they wouldn't believe me if I told them I'd been kidnapped as a child and I'd lived with the man for sixteen years. Jaster was often in trouble. I-I think he paid the police to look the other way because he never was arrested. I feared that they'd tell him if Carly went to the police station and he'd take his anger out on her."
And that was the reason why Michael Jaster spent the last thirty years trying to kill him and the others. It might've started out in retaliation for killing Mateo when they'd escaped, but over the years, Jaster needed to murder everyone who had the power to destroy his family.
Jaster was afraid of losing Evie and his daughter if the truth about him kidnapping boys and forcing them into training and fighting dogs.
Whether Jaster loved the woman he'd kidnapped or not, he wanted the others dead, so he wouldn't go to prison for his crimes and lose his daughter.
Mark looked at Anders and Quint. They both gave him a slight nod. They'd come to the same conclusion as he had. The answer was different than they'd imagined over all the years they tried to get one step ahead of Jaster.
"But we had the file containing the crimes against each of you. That was our hope." Carly lowered her voice. "I know it doesn't make sense to you why we waited, but you don't know how evil he—"
"We know," whispered Mark.
She closed her mouth and nodded, understanding passed between them
"Anyway, I graduated and went to work for one of my father's friends at an investment firm, giving him the impression that I was the obedient daughter. I continued living at home because I refused to leave mom," said Carly.
"You kept copying the files?" asked Anders.
Evie and Carly nodded. Mark lifted his glass and found it empty.
A knock came. Iliana excused herself from the room.
"That'll be the food." Anders stood. "Let's take a break. I think we all need it."
"I'm going to step o
ut and have a smoke." Quint whispered to Katelynn, who remained sitting.
Mark, needing to get rid of the anxious energy making him keyed up, walked over to the window away from everyone. He couldn't understand their timeline.
He and the others tried to end their torment every chance they got. Feeling guilt that they hadn't succeeded fast enough to free Evie and Carly, he fisted his hands and stared outside.
Jaster was out there somewhere, waiting and planning. Mark hated the power the man had over him. Too many lives were lost and damaged because Michael Jaster wanted to keep the underaged girl in his bed and give his daughter a normal life.
He couldn't fault Evie or Carly. They'd survived. That's the best any of them could do.
A hand touched his back. He knew it was Carly without looking.
"Are you okay?" she whispered, keeping her hand on him.
He scoffed. How she could worry about someone else when she'd lived through her own hell mystified him.
"I judged you, and I'm the last person on earth who should've done that." He stared at the cars coming and going in the parking lot. "I was wrong."
"Not wrong, just leery."
He glanced at her. "But you shouldn't have had to take my bullshit. None of us should have to worry about what others think. We've made choices...I've made choices I believe are right, and yet, the world would prosecute and hang me for the crimes I've committed."
"I know," she said softly.
He lifted his arm, inviting her in. She moved closer and leaned against his side. They needed no words to express their feelings. His paranoia that she was working for Jaster was gone after learning the truth.
Being related to someone by blood wasn't what brought loyalty, support, and love. Unthinkable behavior and inexcusable crimes could kill any bond, as it had for Carly and her father.
Chapter 21
Everyone ignored the feast put in front of them. Carly sat down again by her mother. Proud of her mom for having the forte to face the others in the room and tell a story she'd never shared with anyone but her.
And, although her mom kept the horrors of her years held mentally captive, there was not one of them in the room who couldn't imagine what it was like for her to live with Michael Jaster.
Carly only hoped the men understood the amount of guilt she felt for not realizing what was happening in her own house with her parents. She inhaled deeply, soothing the shakes in her chest. A child's innocence blinded her to so many things.
There were times, she wished to go back to a time when she remained uncorrupted and uninformed. To forget the scenes placed in her head that were inconceivable to her and pretend everything was okay.
Maybe if she went back before the anger and hatred grew inside of her, it would make what she had to do easier.
But, one look at her mom made her fight to go forward and put the evil behind her even stronger.
"I think we've heard enough." Anders looked around the room. "Is there anything you'd like to know?"
She looked at her mom and nodded. They had years of questions.
They'd followed each report in the file like a newspaper with a monthly column, hoping the men would come out the winners against the bad guy. They held optimism that somewhere, someone would find their happiness.
They felt the boys' pain as if it was their own, knowing they'd never understand, but they could empathize.
"I think we'd both like to know about the years between when my father kidnapped you and when he found you in the Bitterroot Mountains. None of that time period was included in the file." Carly paused when every pair of eyes looked away from her. "If you don't mind."
The tension in the room had her regretting her question. They had only been boys, around the same age as when her mom was stolen.
Mark's gaze reconnected with her first. "We were all ordered to attend a wilderness behavior camp for troubled teens by the juvenile judge when we lived in group homes."
Evie grabbed Carly's hand. "That's how he got ahold of me. But you're all from different states. The power that he has is..."
"He touches everyone and everything." Quint looked at the other men. "We've always wondered about how it was possible to have children disappear, and nobody missed them."
"The man who worked for Michael and set up the kidnappings is dead." Evie shuddered beside Carly. "I overheard him talking on the phone soon after he kidnapped me that his supplier was murdered. I always thought he meant supplier...as in drugs. He called him Judge. Judge Bernstein."
Mark frowned and looked at the others. "I don't remember the judge's name who ordered my discipline."
"I remember mine." Anders' gaze hardened. "It was Bernstein."
"When did you hear that news?" asked Quint.
Evie shrugged. "When Carly was a baby. She wasn't walking yet, because I remember holding her when I overheard the news."
"We can only hope that no more children were kidnapped through the state programs after you were taken, then," said Anders.
Carly watched Mark come to terms with the new details. She had to remind herself that this was information they all needed to learn when all she wanted was to find out how they'd survived. She needed to know they thrived and found some kind of happiness in a life riddled with fear and danger.
"So, Michael took you to his house?" asked Evie.
Mark shook his head. "No, he loaded us all in a van and took us to Mexico."
"You mean New Mexico." Carly looked between her mom and Mark. "I don't understand."
"Your father held us captive for two years in Mexico. We don't know how he was able to get us into another country. While there, he forced us to train dogs for fighting in the rings. He had a lot of employees who would make sure we couldn't escape when he wasn't there." Mark stood and planted his hands on his hips. "Things escalated during our time there. The spectators no longer wanted to watch two dogs fight to the death, they paid big money to watch boy versus dog. Only one would walk away alive."
Carly gasped, covering her mouth. Her gaze went to his chest, knowing he wore the scars under his shirt from his time in Mexico.
"Joney," whispered her mom, squeezing Carly's hand. "The files. The time. It would've—"
"Yes." Mark's eyes glazed over. "He was the first one of us to be killed. We escaped the day he died. The day the dog won. We beat the guard to death and escaped. Joney was seventeen years old."
Carly breathed heavily, taking in all the information flying around the room. "He was the reason I came to the Bitterroot Mountains."
Mark cocked his head. "How so?"
"Because in one of the later files, my father wrote down that there were two crosses on Bear Peak and promised in writing that he would gladly put four more crosses on the mountain himself before he died. I needed to see with my own eyes that there was a cross. We felt that if I verified the reports, I could go to the police with a list of the crimes he committed against everyone, and my father would finally pay for what he'd done to my mom. She would finally be free of his control." She shook, unable to control the way her voice wavered.
"No." Mark looked at the others. "That's not possible."
Quint rubbed his head, looking at Anders who shook his head.
"You can't go to the police with any of this." Mark walked over to the bottle of whiskey left on the end table and poured a glass. Tipping back the shot, he passed the bottle to the others.
Carly watched the way they moved. They conversed with looks rather than words and came together as one. It was a ritual, bred from years of depending on each other.
"Don't you see?" She scooted to the edge of the couch, ignoring her mom's warning touch not to press the matter. "I have to go to the police with all the information. My father will finally get what is coming to him for all the evil he's done. He won't be able to hurt you anymore. You can live your life without worry that he'll come to kill you. You can make him pay for killing Joney, Two-crow, and Will."
Mark stepped forward, blockin
g her view of the others. "Do you know why we never went to the police over the last thirty years?"
She swallowed and shook her head. It'd never entered her mind because she'd read about all the threats, the men—ordered by her father— coming after them, and the friends they'd lost who were killed. She assumed they'd want her father to go to prison.
"We escaped Mexico by killing a guard. At seventeen years old, we were running scared and chasing a dream of living in the Bitterroot Mountains where nobody would find out what we'd lived through and that we'd killed a man. We were afraid that we'd go to prison if anyone found out, so we kept it a secret." Mark squatted down in front of her. "Every report in that file of Jaster, Parker, McCloud, Powell, Durham, and Roberts coming after us to kill us is true. To protect ourselves, we were able to kill them all, except Michael Jaster."
She reached out and grabbed his hands. "But, don't you see? I have the files. The crimes are much more than anyone can imagine. I can get him arrested and—"
"If you do, Quint, Anders, and I will go to prison for killing all the others. If your father goes down, he'll squeal and take us down, too. That's why we never went to law enforcement. We're just as guilty as your father." He stood, breaking her hold on him. "We're in too deep. We can't stop now until it's over. We want your father."
Carly exhaled loudly. She had no love for her father and going to prison would serve justice. She lifted her gaze, embarrassed by her thoughts. Mark wasn't evil or wrong. He'd done the only thing possible to stay alive, but he didn't have to kill any more people, and her father would pay for what he'd done.
"What happens now?" asked Evie.
Anders stepped forward as Mark walked over to the window and looked out. "We'll continue to protect you and Carly. We have no doubt that Jaster is going to want you back, and we won't let that happen."
"We can't stay in the bunker forever." Carly glanced over at Mark, needing him to assure her that there was hope that he and the others would change their mind and let her go to the police.