by Jody Klaire
My heart stuttered again. I swallowed it back. Frei was out there. I needed to keep with it.
Renee felt the same about her. We both loved Frei. It was why she wasn’t asking me to stop, why she knew I couldn’t.
My eyelids were so heavy. It hurt to keep them open.
Frei had been there, pulled us out of danger, steered us and not once turned her back on us no matter what dumb things we’d done.
Drowsy. Shaky. Tired. So tired.
I knew neither of us would stop until we found her. We’d keep going, keep trying because she was part of us.
Too tired. I closed my eyes, tears dribbling out from them, cool on my flushed face. I tried to send energy out to her, wherever she was. We weren’t giving up. We’d never give up.
“You’re part of us,” I whispered, not sure if I was speaking or thinking it. “Hold on. We love you.”
Chapter 51
FREI HEARD HER own raspy breathing. She’d been waiting for the door to reappear but even so, her stomach and heart burned when it did.
She steadied herself, resolving not to buckle as she was once again that teenager, once again screaming down the lonely country road, once again running out of gas.
She stumbled from the car. Glass shards stung her ankles. Her sneakers scuffed and torn. Gunshots rocketed through the night.
Screams.
Helpless begging.
Her sister?
No!
She tried sprinting but could only limp, her head gash seeping blood into her eyes.
Fahrer ran out of a clearing, his eyes filled with tears. His pistol drooped from his limp arm. He met her eyes, shook his head. “No. No . . . you have to run. Now.”
She glared at him. He’d left her sister?
He’d taken a bullet in his arm. He had more blood on him than that. His worn eyes glinted with sorrow. “Please.”
She shoved him away from her. How could he run? She snatched his gun from his hand as he stumbled to the ground. Her heart pounded—fear, frustration, heartbreak, and his cowardice. How could he run?
“Please . . . don’t let them hurt you.” Fahrer’s words spoke of all he must feel for her. She glared at him. Turned away. She couldn’t bear to look at him.
She stumbled through the clearing. A car screeched off in the distance, over the other side of the river bank.
She tracked over the ground. Where was her sister? Her heart skipped. Someone lay there, unmoving.
No. No. Please.
“I tried. They took her,” Fahrer whispered.
She didn’t turn or speak at his words. She couldn’t. Who was on the ground? She couldn’t take her eyes off the body as she made a slow, painful march toward it.
Who was the treasure?
She stopped. Her heart crumbled.
No.
She dropped to her knees unable to breathe, to think.
Suz.
Her jacket, that jacket, rolled up behind her head. Someone had tried to save her, tried to stop the bleeding. Why? Her beautiful body had been riddled with bullets. Hit from the front. She’d faced them down. She hadn’t run.
“She tried to buy her time to run.” His voice rippled with sorrow.
He’d tried to save her. Huber must have sent him.
She stroked the hair from Suz’s face. Still warm.
Fahrer stumbled away but she stayed there, took Suz’s limp hands. Always warm and soft. Covered in blood now, in dirt, in scars.
So many scars.
Running had aged her but she was as beautiful as she’d always been.
Peaceful.
Oh, Suz.
They’d been waiting for Suz, for her sister.
She punched the dirt.
Suz hadn’t run. She’d faced them down. Tried to help her sister.
She hit the dirt again.
They’d been lured out. They targeted what was precious—her—to draw out the treasure—her sister. They’d lured Suz, her sister out . . . with her help. She’d run them into a trap.
No.
It was her fault. She’d got them caught. She’d been the bait.
Suz hadn’t run. She’d loved them both enough to stand her ground.
Stupid hero.
Silent tears pounded their way down her cheeks. Pain burst from her lips in a shuddering sob. Her shoulders crumpled.
“I’m so sorry.” She gripped Suz’s cooling shoulders. “Please . . . I’m sorry.”
She slammed shut her eyes and slumped to the dirt beside her. Heartbreak rolled from her, sucked the air from her. Convulsing agony. Shuddering, wracking howls.
Suz had heard, or seen, or somehow learned that Frei was being chased. She’d come to find her. Her sister had come to find her.
They’d walked straight into the trap.
It was her fault. If she hadn’t hurtled in. If she hadn’t been running from the police . . .
She curled up next to Suz. Guilt, pain, wounds, devastation crashed onto her. Her sobs gushed from her until she had no more energy left to cry.
She stroked Suz’s cheek. Easy to pretend they were kids again, innocent again, sharing a stretch of floor and giggling about the wardens. They called her Suz because Frei’s little sister couldn’t manage Süß—sweet—back then. It always sounded like Suz.
They’d giggle about it until it became a mark of defiance.
Suz had always been picked out for her looks. She hadn’t needed to bond with the skinny kids she’d been rescued and sold with but she did.
She always took care of them. She’d cuddle Frei close and wrap up her sister the other side.
A stupid, brave hero.
Frei curled into the crook of her arm, not caring about the blood, about the fact Suz was colder now. Like she was drifting away. She’d never be warm again, smile again, tease Frei with a half-smile.
A hero who stood her ground.
Her hero.
She’d always been her hero.
She would always be.
Chapter 52
RENEE HELPED AUNT Bess carry all manner of things from the pet shop out to the truck. For some reason, she’d stopped herself rushing, calmed her need to scream at Aunt Bess for pondering over which kitten food was best. Aeron had said it would have been for a reason. She had felt Aeron’s belief in that when she’d put her hands on her.
She tried to shake off that she’d felt something else. She’d felt something deeper from her, seen it in her eyes. She tried not to think about how hard her heart had hammered. How seeing the level of affection in Aeron’s eyes had made her feel, for want of a better word, drunk.
“Shorty’s out again,” Aunt Bess mumbled as they reached the car.
Renee shoved the stuff in the back of the cab and yanked open the passenger door. “Aeron?”
“M’okay . . .”
“You don’t look it.” She pulled out a bottle of water as Aunt Bess stowed the kittens and shopping in place and rocked the truck as she climbed in. “You need to drink something.”
Aeron parted her lips enough for her to dribble water into her mouth. She looked like she’d been shot or beaten. Her eye on one side flickered as if she had something in it.
“What happened?” Renee’s hands trembled as she brushed the hair from Aeron’s brow.
“Helping her. She shouldn’t be alone going through it.” Aeron shuddered.
Renee looked down and saw the lock in her hand again. She pulled her sleeve down, knowing better than to touch it, and took it from Aeron’s hand.
“You need a rest. We’ll go to the river and then you can have it back.” She wrapped up the lock in some tissues and met Aunt Bess’s eyes.
“Maybe I should keep hold of that.” She smiled even through the concern. “I ain’t freaky like you two.”
“I’m not either.” She made Aeron drink more water and fed her some glucose tablets. She’d been saving them but the way Aeron was looking, she needed more than just sugar.
“Uh huh.” Aunt Bess too
k the lock.
“I’m not.” She wasn’t sure why she was protesting but Aeron smiled up at her.
“Still having trouble?” Her tone was gentle but the sadness was clear. Renee didn’t dare think about what Aeron had been through. Her temper bubbled that she’d been through it alone.
“You sent me in there, dimwit. Not impressed.” She tried being stern and failed as Aeron flashed a sweet smile. She was mush. Why she was trying to pretend otherwise she didn’t know.
“Aunt Bess would have bought the store otherwise.”
Aunt Bess chuckled like she would have and Renee didn’t need any extra senses to know it was the truth.
Sirens cut through the laughter and Renee ducked down. She covered Aeron, her gun out. Something inside told her that the sirens weren’t genuine, that whoever was driving wasn’t authentic.
She glanced into the back and raised her eyebrows at Aunt Bess who was doing the same. “You hid from the authorities often?”
Aunt Bess smiled. “Takes a lot more than burdens to get my stories out of me.”
Renee shook her head. “I’m starting to realize that.”
She winked. “Good, ’cause you ain’t bad for a shortstop.”
The sirens grew closer, and she gripped onto Aeron tighter. Aeron responded by sliding an arm around her to pull her lower and she relaxed into the hug. “This is not the time for one of your cwtches.”
“There’s always time for cwtches,” both Loreleis uttered in unison.
Renee sighed. “Another trait that runs in the family.”
Chapter 53
THE SOUND OF sirens faded in the distance and Renee pulled us out of the parking lot. I’d read off Renee that the kittens had been less than impressed at the wash but they’d accepted it when Renee had told them they’d stop stinking that way.
Go figure that she’d talked to them. Maybe she was starting to believe she could make a difference.
The kittens were all stowed in a fancy cat house in the back and were snoozing with full stomachs. Renee tapped the wheel, a lot, as we headed toward the bit I’d marked on the map.
Then something beeped. I couldn’t figure out where it was coming from but it wouldn’t quit.
“It’s in my jacket,” Renee said, pointing to my makeshift pillow. Explained the tinnitus.
“I don’t think I should touch it.”
Renee nodded so Aunt Bess extracted it from behind me and handed the phone over.
“You know, it kinda helps if you look where you’re driving,” I mumbled as she clicked through her cell.
“Clear street, one pickup parked to the left, a dent on its bumper. Seven people. One in the fishing shop, two at the diner, one trying to find something in the grocery store, three women huddled on the corner. You want their height and builds?”
I smiled at her. I couldn’t even see the dent in the truck. “You’re so cool sometimes.”
Renee smiled, then her smile vanished.
“What?”
“Abby knows.” She let out a long shuddering breath. “The idiot at the gas station reported us.”
I folded my arms. “We ain’t in that state no more so what’s it matter.”
“Abby has a worse temper than me.”
I tensed, which just made Renee purse her lips. “I’m not that bad.”
I raised my eyebrows.
Aunt Bess squeezed my shoulder in support.
Renee looked at us both and sighed. “Point taken. It means that those sirens were for us.” She rubbed her forehead. “We’re officially in trouble.”
“As in . . . ?”
“On the run.” She put her cell on the dash. “Cats just stopped us getting caught.”
That made me smile. I knew they’d pull their weight. “See, helping is always good.”
Renee nodded. “Which is why I trusted you. It means we need to call your father when we’ve been to the river.”
It did? “He’s police y’know.”
“The hat and badge gave it away, Lorelei.” She shot me a cutting look. “He will be able to find us someone to keep us off the radar . . . I hope.”
“How so?”
“This guy.” Renee tapped the list she had on the console. “He’s in organized crime. We can send him in to check a few places out before we get there.”
“He’s in D.C. Sure, it’s less than fifty miles away, but how’s he gonna help in Baltimore?” Aunt Bess leaned forward, reading the list. If I didn’t know better, it looked like she’d memorized it at a glance.
“His file says he lives in Baltimore and commutes. It’s as close as we can get.” She tapped the wheel a few more times then sighed. “Worth a shot. I don’t know Baltimore; we don’t have the resources. I can’t call in CIG.”
“You don’t think it’s Huber who’s got her?” Aunt Bess had been listening. She sounded like a cop, or an agent, and not a lot like an artist.
“I don’t know but it’ll only take Aeron a few seconds to figure out if he has.” She smiled at me.
She pulled off the blacktop road onto a dirt track and stopped. I turned to look at Aunt Bess and the kittens.
“We’re getting out here. Aunt Bess is staying with you. I promise we ain’t stickin’ you nowhere near the river.”
The wriggler poked his head up from their tangle and met my eyes. “Can you keep it down out there.”
I sighed. He reminded me of Tiddles.
We left them and Aunt Bess to their snooze and headed to the bank. It shimmered as Frei’s memories coated the place. A wave of sadness crashed over me. I blurted out tears. I tried to hold it in but I’d relived it with Frei. Tears broke free, pulsed down my cheeks. She was stuck someplace, going through it all again.
Renee hurried to my side as I bent double trying to calm myself. “Frei . . . her feelings.”
I heard Renee sobbing and saw her in the same state I was in. I sighed. Her hand was in mine. “Sorry . . . didn’t mean to share.”
She shook her head, clutching at her chest. “I felt it too. What happened to her here?”
I saw a lone figure standing on the bank. Frei. “Over there.”
The gunfire had long since faded. The wound prickled. A fever coated her brow. A mound of dirt but it was better than just leaving her there.
Renee took my hand as we walked to a smooth patch of grass beside the river. There was no mound now. The dirt had settled. Both of us cried as hard as Frei.
Her long blonde hair flowed around her face. She was stunning to look at . . . and heartbreaking. The mound at her feet had a makeshift cross on it. The jacket, the jacket she never took off, hung on a shovel sticking out of the dirt.
“I can see it.” Renee burrowed into me, turning from the scene. “I can’t bear it.”
“It’s okay,” I managed through dribbling tears. “You go back to the car . . .”
Renee shook her head. “No, I need to know.”
Strange how much the tears made her hands shake. Stupid that she was crying at all. Suz never cried. She was strong. She’d have laughed at her for being so weak.
“They took her,” she whispered. “Fahrer tried to get to her but they were quicker.”
Her hands shook as she took off the necklace she’d hung the ring on, ready for her sister. The wooden cross her father had given her hung like a reminder that she’d been a child once. She’d had a home.
There was no need to keep the ring for her sister now. They had her now. Suz had done everything to keep her safe.
She’d pulled it off for over a year.
Frei closed her eyes, shuddering tears dripping from her. What did it matter? They’d taken her sister; she’d be on her way to whoever owned her now.
She breathed in. No, she couldn’t help her now. She had no way, no means now. She was a kid; she was a slave.
She was sick of being a slave.
She opened her eyes: the sharpness of the cross in the dirt; sound of the river; sticky feel of mud, of congealed blood on her h
ands.
No, now she needed to work on getting those means.
Doctor Stosur, Huber were her allies. Huber was . . . he needed her.
He needed her skill.
She needed means to get her sister back.
She pulled out the phone from her pocket, dialed the number for Doctor Stosur.
“I heard. I’m so sorry.” It sounded like Doctor Stosur was crying too.
It jarred at her senses. “I was stupid. I messed up. I led them in—”
“You weren’t the one pulling the trigger. Don’t let them win anymore. They did this, not you.” Doctor Stosur’s voice was curt, cracked. “You’ll only beat them if you stop being their victim.”
She wasn’t being a victim anymore.
She stared at the cross. “I’m done being a slave.”
“Good. Ring Huber. I’ll find you.” Doctor Stosur cut the call.
Frei pulled a razor from the duffel bag. The buzz of it cut through the silence.
Strand upon strand fell at her feet, fell on the mound of dirt, fell like her tears.
Sides short, shaved.
She changed the head on the razor.
No more conforming.
Strands dropped all around her.
She wasn’t going to be beaten.
Pulled the clumps away.
She was going to be better.
She put the razor away.
The cold prickled at her ears. She ran a hand over the top of her head.
She’d done it for Suz when she ran, cut the binds of slavery.
Suz was different.
Frei wasn’t going to run. She was going to stand her ground.
She took the jacket, the jacket Suz had always worn, the jacket that had been discarded on the floor. She ran her fingers over it. No bullet holes, no blood. No doubt she’d given it to Frei’s sister to keep her warm.
Suz had been like a sister, a friend, a mentor.
She slid into the jacket. It was too big but she would fill it. She’d make sure she did.
Huber wanted to get one over on his cronies. She’d help him. She flicked out her cell phone.
He answered on the first ring. “You’re worth too much to shoot. Where are you?” His voice angry, worried. No doubt half of Caprock was looking for her.