by Snow, Nicole
Go ahead and laugh. Mock. Chastise.
Yes, it’s foolish that I’ve gotten so close to all of them so quickly.
Yes, it’s stupid that I kissed a man I’ve only known a week, who I’ll probably never hear from again for many reasons.
Yes, it’s reckless that I wish he’d stay, knowing the kind of risk it brings down on everyone.
But no amount of foolish or stupid or reckless changes what I feel. No shame changes what’s ahead.
The instant he rolls down that driveway and disappears from view, there’s nothing left for me but to swallow my agony and just deal.
Deal with it.
Miller starts the car and puts it in reverse. Shane and Lauren roll down their windows, giving me a final sad wave as the car backs away.
I wave back, even though I can hardly stand to watch. I’ve reached my limit for torture, so I turn around and walk to the door to the house.
I’ll just wait. Close the garage door once they’ve backed out. Like the final curtain scene of a play.
Over. Done. The end.
The end of something that’ll stay with me like the taste of poison for a long, long time.
That’s the worst part. They’ll be gone, half a world away, but never out of mind.
None of them.
When I think enough time has lapsed for them to be out of the driveway and too far down the street for me to see, I suck in a deep breath and turn.
Huh?
The car’s still there. In the driveway. Not moving an inch.
I walk closer and see Miller’s on the phone.
The look on his face turns my walk into a run.
8
Heart of the Matter (Miller)
I’ve never heard this desperation in Keith’s voice.
A goddamn breach, he calls it. No, it’s so much worse than that.
They know where he’s at. They’ve found him. And his safe harbor just became a minefield.
He’s taken his family deep into the Ecuadorian forests, trying to shake the half a dozen or more lethal killers he’s seen from the Mederva strike team swarming in. He hasn’t slept in days. He’s just been moving, recruiting help, diverting, hiding.
Eyes and ears are everywhere. He’s paying out the wazoo for bodyguards, locals who’ll get a princely sum if they manage to survive this. Lucky for Keith, he has more cash than I do to try to salvage a very fucking unlucky situation.
Even now, he’s talking so fast I can’t even catch it all.
“Miller, just listen! Don’t...anywhere, goddammit. They’ll...right after...and the kids. Stay put.”
Worst part is, his phone keeps cutting in and out.
“Keith!” I snarl hoarsely, cupping my hand against my cheek. I try to conceal it from the kids, how thoroughly fucking freaked I am, but I know it’s no use.
They’re as worried as me. Silent as the grave in the back seat. And yeah, I know, making grave analogies at all is bad juju.
“Keith? You there?”
“Yeah, yeah! This...stupid thing. Listen. Keep your ass where it’s on...turf. Nothing’s safe anymore. No roads. No hotels. No...airports. No one knows where you’re...not unless you blow...cover. It’s all been...compromised.”
Shit.
It’s not a total shock based on everything else he’s said, but to hear that word? Compromised.
It’s like a death sentence.
“Keith? Talk to me.” Every word feels like ice shaking up my throat.
“We’re safe for now. We just have to...moving. I’ll call you again in—” he cuts out again.
“Call when? Keith?” I say when the line goes completely silent. “Keith!”
I have an ugly feeling he’s not coming back. Then I look at my phone and see the call’s been disconnected.
“Dad?” Shane starts in first, braver than Lauren. “Dad, are you–”
“Daddy, what’s wrong?”
I can’t think. I’m paralyzed. I ignore the questions coming from the back seat while slouching my head back against the headrest, waiting to see if he’ll call back.
It’s no use. The line’s dead.
Fuck.
My insides are shaking, burning, adrenaline coursing through my system like venom.
This whole situation just went from bad to worse to compromised.
An almost military euphemism for fucking fucked.
I nearly jump right out of my skin when a pair of soft fingertips tap gingerly at my car window.
Gwen.
She doesn’t say anything, but her eyes are full of questions. She’s seen enough through the windows to know something’s up.
Sighing, I drop the car into drive, roll down the window, and tell her, “Shut the garage door after I pull in.”
She nods, running back into the garage, and I drive forward.
“Daddy, are we staying?” Lauren asks, her voice shaking. “Do we get to see Gwen longer?”
“Yeah, are we, Dad?” I’ve never heard Shane try so hard to sound tough, unfazed by this, but I know deep down he’s more freaked than I am.
I have to head it off. I can’t control what’s happening to Keith, but I can damn sure let my kids know we’re not in any imminent danger.
Not yet, a sick voice growls from the back of my mind. Be careful.
“Yeah, guys. Change of plans. We’ll be here just a little while longer.” That’s all I can manage as I shift into park.
Their unsure, but undeniable smiles cause my guts to feel like I just chugged broken glass.
It isn’t fair, dammit. I can’t put Gwen in this kind of danger. But I can’t risk ignoring Keith’s warning either.
“It’s okay. I’ll carry in the bags, Dad.” Shane says, opening his door, looking at me anxiously in the rear-view mirror.
“Later. Leave ’em in the car for now,” I say. “You two go inside. Get some fresh air on the patio. I need to talk to Gwen.”
Lauren lingers a little longer, her sweet little eyes staring at me through the glass. Quietly, secretly asking if it’ll be okay.
Eyes locked, I nod.
I don’t know how, not anymore, but I’m not letting this sickening terror infect my children.
Somehow, someway, I’ll save them.
I’ll be the father, the man, the hero they deserve.
“Go on now,” I mouth to her, and she scampers inside.
* * *
I’m not sure what’s worse: facing the kids or her.
Gwen stands beside the Equinox, staring at me with concern glistening in her huge, green eyes.
I wait till long after the kids are in the house and I’ve closed the door before climbing out of the small SUV. “We need to hang here for a few more hours. Sorry.”
“A few hours?” She blinks and shrugs, her tall frame doing this seductive bounce I need right now like a hole in the head. “Take your time. Whatever you need, Miller.”
I nod as the conversation I’d had with her mother circles around in my head. “I hate jerking you around. Something came up. I just...fuck, I need to figure out what to do.”
Those heart-shaped lips curl into a worried line. “You know, maybe if I knew more, I could help. Two heads are better than one.”
“Maybe.” I shake my head. “But you already know too damn much, babe. Not gonna put you through more.”
“I barely know anything, really.”
“Which is still too much.”
“Miller—”
No. Not now. Not ever.
I hold up a hand to stop her. More words can’t help.
Then her little hand reaches for me and I grab her wrist. It’s hell keeping her away from my own body when I’d love nothing more than to slam her into the nearest wall, bury my lips on hers, fist that wild red mane, and move on her like the fucking wind.
But she seems to understand.
She pulls away, and I use the hand holding hers a second ago to scratch at my tingling scalp. None of this makes sense.
If
Jackie’s people found Keith in Ecuador, a foreign country he’d run to after doing everything he could to throw them off, then we missed something critical. All the plans of mice and men just crumbled. We’d been frantic, in a rush to save our own asses and our families, but we knew what we were doing.
We covered every base.
We thought we did.
But if they’re hot on his tail on another continent, then it means one thing: we’re sitting ducks here in Minnesota. Fuck.
I lurch around and slap a hand on the roof of the car so hard it zings through my bones. Caveman shit, I know, but this is too fucking much.
Gwen tries her luck again, laying a hand on my shoulder. This time, I can’t fight her off.
“Miller...I’m going to head inside and see if they need anything. You’re safe for now, I bet. We’ll figure this out, whatever it takes. I’m here.”
Sweet girl, no. I think to myself, grinding my teeth, but I can’t find the words. Don’t talk that shit to me, or you might never talk yourself out of this.
“Take some time and come inside when you’re ready, okay? Miller?” She says my name so sweetly it takes everything in me to fight back the urge to sink my teeth into her lip.
I want to feel her so bad and I can’t.
“Got it,” I whisper, reaching up to stroke her fingers with mine. “I’ll be in soon. Thanks for everything...again.”
My insides are cold with dread, yet smoldering. Absolutely livid. And at the same time, Gingersnap’s quiet, patient kindness fills me with a warmth I haven’t felt in years. A peace that only comes from knowing someone cares enough, gets enough, to give space when needed, and the assurance that they’ll be there, taking care of things, when you need them.
I know because it’s something I’ve rarely experienced. Know how precious it is.
She pats my shoulder one more time, then leaves.
I slump forward as soon as the door to the house closes, leaving me alone.
I’m so fucking sick of living this hell. Of needing help. Of thinking I’ve found it, only to realize it was wrong with Manny, or not good enough to outsmart the monsters on the prowl.
It’s hard enough. I’ve never needed help before. Not even when the twins were born.
I hardly slept for months then, looking after two newborns on my own, but they were mine, and I took care of them by myself.
That’s what a father does. He comes to the rescue again, and again, and again. Forever.
What pisses me off is that I can’t do it alone anymore. This isn’t as simple as having Heather babysit while I was working. It couldn’t be more different. I need help keeping them safe, make sure they live through this.
Goddamn. That hellish responsibility nearly guts me.
I turn slowly, staring at the garage wall without really looking at anything.
May, and what she said before I tried to leave, swirls in my mind. She’s whip-sharp. Knows there’s something going on with me, some kind of trouble, and swore she’d find out what.
She will, too, sooner or later. I feel it.
What then? Endanger Gwen’s mother, too?
If she sticks her proud beak where it doesn’t belong, even her high-profile status won’t protect her. Mederva has many, many ways of making a bestselling author look like she expired from perfectly natural causes.
What the fuck do I do?
I rack my brain furiously, but can’t come up with a single other soul I can contact. There’s no one. And if there were, I wouldn’t want to drag them into this either.
The desperation I’d heard in Keith’s voice fills my mind. If they’d found him in Ecuador, they’ll find us here, or in Ireland. The rot inside Mederva won’t stop till all loose ends are severed. That queen of bitches, Jackie Wren, sure as hell won’t.
I close my eyes, trying not to puke. Wishing, hoping, praying something comes to me.
I’ve never had time to slow down long enough to take a step back and think this through. Not since trouble found Keith and me.
Maybe that’s the biggest problem.
* * *
Weeks Ago
“Stay low,” I tell Keith as another cargo van backs into the loading dock.
We both know the authorization badges on our chest don’t cover this lot. We’d killed two security cameras in order to sneak in, and we hope to hell to get back out and turn them on before anyone notices.
Keith won’t shut up about what he accidentally saw in those coolers.
Right now he’s a human grenade. His huge jaw is set, his gingery-red hair practically standing on end and ready to burst into flames.
He’s convinced, but I’m not.
It’s impossible. Nonsensical. Incomprehensible.
“Miller, that’s them,” he whispers. “Same kind of package I saw...just like what those fucks are hauling in.”
The coolers may resemble a mad scientist’s version of high-end camping coolers, but they’re medical grade, and they cost an arm and a leg. Designed to withstand anything thrown at them, known for keeping ice solid and contents preserved for days if not weeks.
These are smaller ones, whole rows of them. Each can’t hold much more than fifty to eighty pounds.
I keep count as a dozen get unloaded by the driver and a security guard. A thick envelope is exchanged then, and the driver, carrying it, climbs back in the van while the guard closes the overhead door and then follows the van to the locked gate.
Once the guard steps back inside the guard shack, punching in the code to open the gate again, it’s time.
Waving a hand over my head, I signal for Keith to follow me. I’d scrounged up a set of building plans from the time when they’d added this section, and know another way in.
That is, if the blueprints weren’t revised.
We keep low, out of the way of the cameras we couldn’t hack. These are night vision, so there’s no tell-tale sign of flashes when there’s movement detected.
I hope like hell we pass, but I have a plan in place for that too, if we don’t.
I’ve broken into the main security control program and will delete any footage taken retroactively, hopefully before anyone else has a chance to see it.
Between the warehouse and the back wall of the office building, I find the ladder. We both shoot up it to the roof, then slip down inside the warehouse.
It’s pitch-black. We use our flashlights sparingly, cautiously approaching the area where the coolers are stacked neatly, waiting for the next leg of their journey.
Each one is labeled with orange biohazard stickers. CAUTION. EXPERIMENTAL TREATMENT DEVICES.
“My ass,” Keith growls as he unhooks the rubber latches with one hand, pushing his wavy hair out of his eyes with the other. “Look.”
I’ve never known him to lie, to be so wrong, but hope he is this time.
My heart jackhammers as I hold my breath, waiting for the lid to fully open.
It does with a pop, and I shine my flashlight into the cooler.
Then my stomach erupts. Pure wretched violence. Revulsion.
Fuck!
I can’t puke here. I have to swallow, choke back my own bile.
“See? It’s fucking sick,” Keith snarls, gagging. “I looked this up on medical sites. Too small for adults. Not even from a fucking–”
“Shut it!” My voice is inhuman, almost thunder.
He looks at me sharply and closes the lid, pinching the locks back in place. We do the same thing with three more chests before I’ve seen more than I can stomach in this lifetime.
Every muscle I own twitches with rage.
Thoroughly nauseated, I finally ask him, “What the hell are these bastards doing here?”
“We’re going to find out,” Keith says, shaking his head. “And put a stop to it.”
* * *
Present
“Miller?”
I turn, watching Gwen step into the garage and close the door behind her. Can’t blame her for wondering. I’ve be
en out here too long, lost in my own head.
I shake my head, dispelling the last of the gut-wrenching flashback, and swallow more bile churned up at the memory.
“The kids?” I ask. “They sorted or what?”
“They’re fine. Just resting and playing quietly with the new stuff Mother gave them.” She frowns, moving closer, this tall, redheaded angel too good to be in the same room with the evil in my skull. “So, this is weird. Mother just called and said she wants to talk to you. I told her you were busy. But she wants you to call her, I guess. Right away.”
Shit.
May really knows how to go straight for the balls.
“What’s going on, Miller? I mean, really? Is this about her asking you to come out to the car right before you...” She stops. Swallows. Looks right through me with that wanting jade stare.
Somebody up there in heaven really loathes my ass. Or is it someone down below?
I don’t want to answer, but there’s no choice. Not anymore.
For her sake, I need to tell her more.
Shaking my head, I look her dead in the eye and speak. “Keith, my friend the kids mentioned, worked at the same place I did. In security, just a little higher up than me. Well, some grade A bastards much higher up than him had their hands in bad shit, Gwen. Illegal shit. Found out we’d seen more than we ever should and...long story short, we fled. He took off with his wife, his kids, just like me. I found out less than an hour ago he was ambushed in his new country. Nearly fucking killed. Him and his family got out of the worst alive, but—” My throat feels raw. I need a second.
“Are they okay?” she asks softly, her eyes searching mine.
I nod. “For now.”
She goes a shade paler. “But you and Shane and Lauren? And...and me?”
“The airports aren’t safe, babe. We can’t fly to Ireland as planned anymore.” I hold up a hand, hoping she’ll believe me. “You aren’t in danger. I swear, I believe with every bone in my body we’re okay for now. The wrong eyes at the airports gave Keith away. No one followed us. Nobody knows where we went.”