“I’m not afraid,” I lied.
Dad chuckled, pulling me against his side. “You never are.”
How I wished that were true.
Week Sixteenbetter known as Marathon Dayyikes!
The parking lot was awash with hundreds of headlights cutting through the steady downpour. Runners spilled from vehicles and sloshed through puddles, trying to beat each other to the bus loading station. Save it for the race, I thought. Four-thirty was too early to act this competitive.
My stomach hadn’t settled since I’d awakened at three-thirty. Dad tried to force-feed a banana and piece of whole wheat bread down me at our hotel. I chomped on and attempted to swallow the mushy banana and dry bread, but my stomach rebelled. I spit most of it in the garbage can.
Dad escorted me from the Honda Accord, his car-of-the-day, towards the loading area for runners.
“I don’t think you should be out here.” I glanced around the busy parking lot. “So exposed like this.”
Dad’s grip on my elbow tightened. His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m fine.” He pointed at two men, the same agents who had followed Damon and I from the Japanese restaurant and rode bikes through the Top of Utah Marathon. “They’ll be watching over you. My agents are close by as well.”
We stopped next to a crowd of runners. Despite the soaking, I wasn’t quite ready to jump into line. I studied the darkened parking lot, making sure Damon wasn’t there. “Will my guys be on bikes?”
He nodded. “They won’t be able to stay as close as I’d like but . . .” He forced a smile. “You’ll be okay. We’re not afraid anymore, right? Thanks for your little pep talk back at the hotel.”
“That talk was for me.” I bent down and retied my shoelaces for the third time, nothing felt right this morning.
Dad took off his raincoat and shielded both of us, ushering me into the bus line. “Let’s get you out of this rain.”
Shivering, I checked the crowds of people for Muscle Man. “I’m going to be in it for the next few hours."
“It’ll ease up. It never rains for very long here.” Dad rubbed my arm. “You’ve got your cell phone?”
I patted my shorts pocket. “Right here.”
“Jared or I will call if something happens with Raquel, so don’t worry.” He stayed with me as the line snaked forward. “You have some food and water?”
I lifted a plastic St. George Marathon bag, designed to leave clothes at the starting line. “Right here.”
Dad gave me his stern father look. “You’ll eat something before you run.”
“Once my stomach settles.”
The line slowly slipped towards the school buses spewing black smoke into the pre-dawn air.
Dad turned to me. “I won’t be able to see you until Mile 21. They said unless I’m volunteering I’d have to drive so far out of my way to see you earlier that I’d miss you at the finish line.”
My stomach dropped. I suddenly felt like a little girl going to her first sleepover and leaving the comfort of my parents and my canopy bed. An awful gnawing inside made me wonder if I’d see my dad again.
I grabbed him and squeezed. “Be careful, Dad.”
He returned the hug. “You be careful.” He pulled back and studied my face for a second. “And have fun.”
I forced a smile. “Should be a real party.”
“Load up,” a man yelled.
There were only a few people in front of me in line. I reached the steps. “I’ll see you at 21,” I yelled.
“I’ll be there,” he called back.
The tide of people swept me up and onto the bus. As I trudged towards the back a large palm encircled my waist. I jumped and spun, my nervousness increasing when I saw Damon grinning at me, his chiseled face shadowed by a baseball cap.
“H-hey, where’d you come from?” How had he just happened to be on the same bus as me?
Damon walked me down the aisle and ushered me into a seat. I stared out the window, trying to locate my father. Damon peered over my shoulder. “Who are you looking for?”
“My dad.”
“I missed him,” Damon muttered.
I turned away from the crowd. Dad had already disappeared. It bothered me immensely that Damon cared that he’d missed him.
“Is he meeting you after?”
I nodded, biting my lip and clutching my clothing bag with sweaty palms.
Damon smiled. “It will be nice to finally meet your dad.” He pushed my sweatshirt back a few inches and tugged on one of my Princess Leia braids. “This is cute.”
I rolled my eyes. “No, it is definitely not cute, but I promised El I’d run in Princess Leia braids. It’s for her.” My stomach churned. Dad had never told me whether he’d found out more information about Damon. With the week we’d had with Raquel I had hardly thought about Damon. But Dad had said Damon’s initial check came up clean. Unlike Jesse who was a definite no. Would I ever feel Jesse’s touch again? Should I be trying to ditch Damon?
My FBI guys loaded up last with their bikes. I didn’t dare stare at them and make the connection obvious, especially since Damon might remember them from the Japanese restaurant, but I was so glad to see them on the same bus.
The bus lumbered away. I endured the dark, bouncy ride and Damon’s questions about why I hadn’t returned his calls. He couldn’t refute my excuse. He knew how important Raquel was to me. A smattering of rain and a whole lot of wind greeted us as we descended from the bus. My stomach danced. I shook from cold and nerves. I just wanted seven a.m. and that gunshot. I couldn’t handle much more waiting.
My phone rang. I snatched it from my shorts and turned my back on Damon.
“It’s going to be today, Cassie.” Jared was never one to waste time. “The doctors are prepping her for surgery in a few hours.”
“Today!” I stomped my feet. “You kidding me?”
Jared blew out a long breath. “The baby’s heart rate is decelerating. It’s too dangerous to keep him in any longer. They think his lungs are developed enough and if not . . .” Jared paused.
I held my breath and prayed through the entire pause.
“A lot of babies have been in NICU and recovered okay.” He made another shaky sound. “I wish you were here.”
Damon watched me without saying anything.
“I should come home,” I said. “You need Dad and me. Don’t you? Don’t you need us?”
“No,” Jared said. “I’ve got Nana and Tasha is coming soon.”
“Well, that makes me feel all reassured.”
Jared gave me a small chuckle. Damon smiled at me. His large hand massaged my upper arm. I smiled in gratitude. He was always so nice to me.
“You run that race,” Jared said. “You’ve trained too hard. El was so proud of you. You kick it for her and the baby.”
Tears squeezed from my eyes. “It’s just a stupid race. Raquel and the baby are a billion times more important.”
There was silence on the line. “You listen to me, sis. Raquel has always believed in you. She’s just been waiting for you to succeed. She knew you wouldn’t quit. You’re going to run that race for her and the doctors are going to deliver our baby and El’s going to recover.” He coughed, sniffed, and continued, “I’m proud of you. You do it for her.”
The phone disconnected. Jared had exceeded his emotional capacity.
I stared at my cell phone and wondered why I was hundreds of miles from the most important people in my life. I met Damon’s gaze. “Raquel’s having her baby.”
He squeezed my arm. “Then this will be a doubly special day.”
“How much time do we have left?” I asked. I didn’t want to talk about the situation at home and be drained from emotion.
“It’s twenty to seven.”
“Um, I’m embarrassed to admit this, but . . .” I did not want another accident in a race and I needed some way to call my dad without Damon listening.
He grinned at me. “You want to check out the décor in the por
t-a-potties.”
“I hear they’re very spacious.”
“Uh-huh.” He grabbed my hand and tugged me through the crowd waiting for the privilege of using a stinky bathroom.
“I don’t want you to have an accident while I’m running with you.”
I stuck out my tongue. “Very funny.” A door opened and I ran in. I texted my dad while I peed, not daring to call and have Damon hear.
“Damon’s here. What do I do?”
The answer was almost immediate. “Stay away from him.”
“Is he with Muscle Man?”
“Nothing to confirm that but I’d feel better if you weren’t with him.”
“Ok.”
I pushed send and slipped out of the port-a-potty. Damon stood by the door waiting for me. How in the world was I supposed to ditch him?
“We’d better get going,” he said.
I bobbed my head. He followed me up to the road. A gunshot signaled seven a.m. had finally come. We surged through the starting line with a flowing mass of people. It was inky dark, rain pattering our faces. I pulled my visor down farther and darted in and out of people, trying to ditch Damon. His long legs ate up any distance I created between us. With the darkness and lack of visibility I felt like I was having an out-of-body experience. The first mile passed so quickly I could hardly believe it.
“7:07:21,” a man called out as we sailed through mile marker one.
Probably a bit faster than I should be running, but my marathon pace was no longer the biggest concern. Ditching Damon was easier said than done. I didn’t have the stride of a 6’2” man with legs longer than a giraffe’s neck. “I know you’ve trained for a faster pace than this,” I told him. “I won’t feel bad if you go ahead.”
“I’d feel bad, I want to be with you.”
What did I say to that? “Um, thanks.”
“I’ve already qualified for Boston. Let’s get you there.”
Could Damon really have some other agenda? I glanced around and saw my bike riders fifty yards behind us. With the FBI there and Damon acting completely normal, I was having a hard time wasting energy trying to escape him.
We ran into a headwind but the rain started to taper. An hour later, the sky lightened a bit and the crowd thinned, even if I wanted to hide from Damon I couldn’t. I prayed for the wind to stop. When that didn’t work I prayed that I wouldn’t feel it so much. After several miles I noticed that either the storm was abating or my prayers were working. We sailed through the miles and I felt great. To get past the boredom I shoved in my iPod and imagined my nephew coming into the world.
I approached the aid station at mile thirteen. My heart thumped with excitement. I was halfway through. Then reality hit. My legs were tired. This weather bit the big one. I still had no idea how to escape Damon. And I was only halfway through?
The volunteers were in the street calling out, “Gu, gu.”
I grabbed one, ripped the top off and squeezed it into my mouth. I could hardly swallow the lump, but I knew I needed the energy boost.
“Gatorade, Gatorade,” the next table of volunteers called out.
I shook my head and kept going. I wanted water to get this awful sludge out of my mouth. One of the volunteers raced up to my side. “Gatorade,” she said, shoving the cup into my hands.
“No,” I said, trying to push the cup back into her hands.
She encroached upon my personal space. “You need this Gatorade.”
I stared at the tiny, thick-skulled woman. I couldn’t see much from underneath the low-riding baseball cap, but her shape looked like. “Hot Redhead?” I asked.
She glanced up at me then. Her eyes large and intense. “Get away from Damon.”
“I’m trying.”
She pushed me away, nodding in Damon’s direction. “Find a way.”
Clutching the paper cup of Gatorade, I gulped it down then tossed it. I started jogging again. Glancing back through the mist, I saw Elizabeth watching me. How did she know about Damon? What did she expect me to do?
“Did you get a Gu down?” Damon was by my side.
I jumped and let out a little scream.
Damon laughed. “You okay?”
I nodded and started running down the road. Damon stayed right by my side. I turned my iPod up so he wouldn’t try to talk me and mulled over Elizabeth’s warning. Damon was a better runner than me and we were in the middle of a race. The safest thing to do had to be to finish the race or at least make it to my dad. If Damon or Elizabeth were working with Muscle Man they probably wouldn’t try anything with all the other runners around.
“How are you doing?” Damon yelled to be heard over my music.
I took out one of my earbuds. “I thought this marathon was downhill.”
Damon laughed. “It drops in elevation, but there’s still some uphill along the way. You okay?” He took off his hat, shook the rainwater from it, swiped his face clean and replaced the baseball cap.
“Just peachy.” I nodded towards his watch. “Are we on pace?”
“A bit ahead even.”
I took a long breath, trying to act normal, trying to forget about Elizabeth’s warning but it just reinforced my dad saying to get away and all the times Jesse had warned me. “I’m going to slow down. You keep going.”
Damon shook his head. “If,” he smiled, “or actually, when you hit the wall, we’re going to need some extra minutes to get through it.”
“The only reason I’m going to hit the wall is because you’re killing me,” I muttered. “Seriously.” I slowed my pace. “You keep going, I need a minute.”
Damon grinned. Taking me by the hand, he pulled me along with him. “I’m not leaving you.”
I retrieved my hand from his grip but kept at the same pace. I could keep forcing him to pull me along, make a scene and hope the FBI came to help, or get to mile twenty-one where my dad was waiting with more FBI help.
We passed the aid station at mile nineteen without much more than a drink of water, but my heart started lightening. The FBI bike riders were still within sight and I’d almost made it to my dad.
Just when I thought I had the marathon licked, my legs stopped responding to my commands to rotate and my vision darkened. Damon grabbed onto my elbow and yelled in my ear, “It’s okay, Cassie. It’s just the wall. Keep moving and you’ll get through it.”
“Can’t,” I muttered.
Through my pain, I felt the buzz of my cell phone. “Phone,” I said. “Get it.”
Damon yanked the phone out to oblige me and flipped it open. “Hello?”
I listened through the haze and kept putting one foot in front of the other.
“The baby’s here? How’s Raquel?” He paused and then, “Oh, that is awesome.”
“Give me.” I reached out for the phone but Damon dodged me.
“Cassie isn’t doing so well. I’ll have her call you at the finish line. Congrats.” Damon closed the phone and jammed it in his own pocket. “Raquel had the baby. The little guy is doing great. Jared says he looks just like him.”
I managed a smile. My nephew was here. He was safe. “Raquel?” I asked.
“She’s doing well. The doctor was excited about the way her body handled the operation. Her brain waves look good. They think she may recover more easily now.”
I felt a surge of adrenaline rush through me. My brain cleared. I saw aid station twenty-one up ahead. My nephew was here. He was doing well and so was Raquel. If they could get through what they’d been dealt. I could get through this dang marathon. I sailed into the aid station, stole a caffeinated Gu, downed it and a cup of water, then started again.
“You’re past the wall,” Damon said, sticking to me like cellulite.
“Thank heavens.” We were on a downhill bend sinking into St. George from the northwest and I could see my dad in the middle of the crowd.
“Cassie!”
I found enough energy to raise my hand and turn his direction. Damon brushed close to me. “Your
dad’s in trouble,” he whispered in my ear.
I looked over my dad’s shoulder. Muscle Man and Greasy Beanpole were closing in on him. “Dad!”
He took a step towards me, smiling. Muscle Man and Greasy Beanpole sandwiched him, lifting him off his feet, and rushing back through the crowd. I screamed, running after them. Damon raced next to me. The FBI got caught in the throng of people at the aid station. They ditched their bikes and struggled through the crowd.
I almost tripped on a man lying in the street. I looked down. Blood oozed from his motionless chest. “Damon,” I screamed.
He grabbed my hand, pulling me along. “Worry about your dad.”
Muscle Man and Greasy Beanpole shoved my dad into a tan cargo van. Seconds later the van was squealing away.
I raced after them. Damon grabbed my arm. “This way!”
“They’ve got my dad,” I panted.
“I know.” He yanked his keys from a small pocket of his shorts and clicked the unlock button. “My car is right here.”
I stared at him. The FBI were almost through the crowd. Should I wait for them? Did they have a vehicle close by?
Damon pushed me into his car, making the decision for me. I crawled over the console as he leaped in and started the engine. We gunned away from the FBI. I glanced back to see the gray-haired agent shaking his head at me and dialing furiously into his phone.
I turned forward. The cargo van was careening away but Damon floored it, keeping them in sight. I shivered, wet from the rain and my sweat, scared of what was going to happen to my dad.
“Why was your car parked here?”
He shrugged, not looking at me.
I reached for my cell phone then remembered Damon had pocketed it after he’d talked to Jared. “Give me my cell phone so I can call the police.”
Damon careened around a corner. “I don’t have your cell phone.”
“Yes, you do.”
He held up a hand. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Can you please let me drive so I don’t lose your dad?”
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