“Go to the shop. They’re not there, brief the people who work there, tell them to call the cops, tell the cops to call Pryor and you drive the road. I find them, that’s where I’ll lead them.”
“Cal, I haven’t been shot today, or shot at. Let me run.”
“Get in the truck, Benny.”
“Cal –”
Benny didn’t finish. Cal turned and ran into the woods.
*
He was gaining. He wasn’t hungover and he had shoes on and he’d had something to eat that day.
I should have let Frankie separate. I was slowing her down.
“Go!” I shouted, “go to the shop.”
“We’re not separating!” she shouted back, her hair flying behind her, running in front of me, she had my hand in hers and she was holding on tight.
“Frankie!”
The gunshot rang out, it was so close I could hear the hiss of the bullet through the air and we both reflexively dove for cover.
By the time we rolled to our backs and looked up, Daniel Hart was standing over us, pointing his gun at Frankie.
“Liability,” he muttered then fired.
*
Cal heard the shot, it wasn’t close but it wasn’t far away.
He stopped running and started sprinting.
Seconds later, he heard the second shot.
*
Benny had the windows open to the SUV, he heard the shot, it wasn’t close but it wasn’t far away.
He pulled the Explorer to the side of the road, shut off the ignition, tagged his gun and threw open the door.
His boots hit the ground and he heard the second shot.
He sprinted into the woods.
*
“Shoot me!” I shrieked.
He was pointing the gun at me but I was staring into his eyes.
“You took everything from me,” he stated calmly.
“I took everything from you? You took everything from me!” I screeched.
“I handed you the world gift by gift. You didn’t even bother to open the boxes.”
“You’re a lunatic. You think the world fits in a box?” I snapped.
He leaned forward and his face twisted in a way that I did not like.
“You would know if you bothered to open the fucking boxes!”
I leaned forward too, keeping his focus as I heard Frankie dragging herself away.
“I do know what it feels like to be handed the world, you asshole!” I shouted, “Tim did it when he got me pregnant at seventeen and then gave me a beautiful life until you took his. Then Joe gave it to me again and he did it just by giving a shit that I’d walked across a goddamned yard in bare feet! And here I stand in front of you, and you think you gave me the world when you don’t even care that I’m running through a forest in bare feet!”
*
Cal stood ten feet to the side of Hart, raised his gun and took aim
He did this listening to Vi and smiling.
*
Frankie’s head came up, her eyes hit Benny and she quit dragging herself through the leaves.
Benny squatted low and put his finger to his lips.
Frankie squished her lips into her nose and mouthed, “Bare feet?”
Benny hoped to all hell that this meant the blood coming from her middle wasn’t oozing the life out of her.
Benny grinned at Frankie, shook his head, straightened, raised his gun and took aim.
*
Hart wasn’t listening to me firstly because he was focused on his own shit and secondly because he was a maniac.
“I built an empire and I put it at risk for you.”
“I didn’t ask for that, didn’t want it, still don’t want it,” I snapped back.
“And now it’s gone,” he whispered, “because of you.”
“Let me enlighten you, Mr. Hart. After they put you away for a thousand years, by some miracle you get out and you find a woman who catches your fancy, she doesn’t want an empire. She wants you to give a shit. That’s it. She just wants you to give a shit.”
He still wasn’t listening.
“I gave it all for you,” he whispered, his voice quiet in a scary way.
“You didn’t give anything.” My voice was quiet too. “You just took.” My eyes moved to his gun and I made an invitation that I hoped he didn’t accept but instead would finally fucking listen to me. “So take now. Take my daughters’ mother away. Take again from Joe, someone who life hasn’t allowed to keep hold of many good things. Take me.”
He raised his gun to point at my head.
I kept staring at the gun and I wondered if Tim and Sam felt like this in their last moments. If they felt their heart racing. If their throat had closed. If they felt every inch of their skin tingling. If their mind moved to me, the girls, Mel. If they sent out a prayer that someone would make us all right when they were gone. If they hoped to all that was holy that we’d never forget that they loved us.
I raised my eyes to his.
“I hate you,” I whispered.
He smiled.
Then I heard the gunshots.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Heartbeat