4. Chapter 4
Another pang hit me as I cleaned out my savings account. It made my situation feel more real than it already was, like I couldn’t turn back now. My life had been completely turned on its head.
I didn’t have enough time to figure out my investments, so I left those alone, but I’d saved a lot since I barely did anything or went anywhere after Matt’s death. I had buried myself in work and Owen’s care.
Having cash on hand was a priority. I needed to clean out my accounts before the government seized them. Once I started running with evidence that belonged to the FBI, no doubt I would be flagged as a traitor. Whoever it was within the Department of Justice and behind this cover-up would pin something on me. That was how cover-ups worked. Find people to pay off and keep the rest silent through intimidation, discrediting, and scapegoating.
My only power was my evidence, which I currently had stashed in a safe deposit box. I hadn’t intended for that one to be kept secure. I needed it to buy me time. Once they seized my accounts, they’d take evidence, breathe a collective sigh of relief, and look at all I’d gathered.
There would be eventual doubts, wondering if I made copies. It wouldn’t take them long to assume I had done just that. I would be stupid not to. But it would keep them off my back for an extra couple of days, allowing me to go deeper into hiding and figure out what I needed to do. I had ideas, but since they’ve already killed people, it would be nothing to kill me, too.
After emptying my savings and checking accounts, I used the bank’s ATM and pulled out as much cash as I could from my two credit cards.
“Daddy, I’m bored,” Owen said, who sat on the floor next to me at the bank, playing with Spidey.
“I’m almost done, Little Man. Thanks for being so good for me. Daddy just needs some money before we head out.”
“Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise.”
There were too many cameras in this world. Our government watched everything. It wouldn’t take them long to find me here. The primitive need of flight hit me again as I tried to control my nerves, checking the perimeter for people watching me, willing the money to dispense faster.
Once I had the cash safely put inside my locked briefcase, I grabbed my son’s hand and lifted him into the air before he landed on his feet, making him giggle.
“Again, Daddy!”
I chuckled despite the fear and tension knotted in my stomach. “Next time. We’ve got to go.”
I held Owen’s hand, keeping him close as I picked up the briefcase, carrying my security, scanning the crowd in the busy city of Washington, making sure everything was still clear, but I wasn’t an expert, so it was hard to tell.
When I started with the FBI, we were required to undergo basic intensive training, but that was two decades ago. I wasn’t in the field, so I didn’t have the same instincts as other agents. My job was paper-pushing, conducting research, and analyzing.
I kept up with my physical training and the use of firearms, but that was the extent of it.
Owen walked next to me, still holding my hand, as we made our way up a quiet one-way street toward a back alley where I’d parked my car out of the way.
My next stop was car shopping. I only hoped Owen had the patience for it. He was a great kid, but he had his limits when he was bored or tired. It’d already been a long morning.
“Daddy, can we get some ice cream?”
“Sure, Little Man, but later, okay?”
I stopped so suddenly in my tracks that poor Owen slammed into my leg.
“Ouch, Daddy! My nose.”
But I couldn’t deal with Owen at that moment as I stared at the man with a strangely familiar face, leaning on the hood of my car with his ankles crossed. He seemed like an ordinary yet handsome man, wearing a black hoodie with the hood over his head and the sleeves shoved up, exposing tattoos on both forearms. Underneath, he wore a black T-shirt paired with dark-wash jeans and white running shoes. Regardless of his ease and casual attire, he oozed danger.
I dropped the briefcase and pulled out my gun, turned off the safety, and pointed it at him as I tucked Owen behind me. My heart raced, never being faced with danger like this before. It took all my will and years of practice with a gun to keep my hand steady and my heart from exploding.
“Don’t leave my back, Owen.”
“But…”
“Don’t argue with me!”
He wasn’t used to me yelling, so my son started to cry, but my priority was keeping us alive.
“Who are you? Who sent you?” I said to the stranger. But I knew who he was. He was a killer sent to end me.
The man didn’t reach for a gun, nor did he tense at mine as I aimed it right at his head. Instead, his blue eyes gleamed, and the corner of his mouth curled into a smirk.
Owen, now sensing a threat, clung to the back of my leg, sniffling but keeping quiet.
“You don’t recognize me? I’m hurt, Dalt,” said the stranger.
“Answer the fucking question before I put a bullet into your brain. ”
His smile turned broader, but he couldn’t taunt me. I wouldn’t let him.
“You wouldn’t do that in front of your son,” he said, as if he knew me.
“Fucking test me!” I growled. “I will do anything to protect him.”
The man nodded. “Fair enough.”
He stood straighter, his smile smaller. “After tormenting you throughout our high school years and sharing our first boy kiss, I thought you’d remember me.”
A flash of violent kisses and clawing at each other years ago while at a party suddenly hit me. “Sid?”
His smile grew wide enough to expose straight, white teeth as he spread arms thick with muscles. “The one and only.”
“That doesn’t make you less of a threat,” I said. “You didn’t just stumble onto me out of the blue to reminisce about old times.”
His smile dropped and he nodded. “You’re still as smart as I remembered. You’re correct. I am a threat, and no, I didn’t just stumble upon you.”
“So, you’re here to kill me, then?”
Sid took a step toward me, and I put a bullet in the chamber before he stopped and raised his hands. “This is the part where I say, ‘ Come with me if you want to live .’”
“This isn’t a goddamn joke, Sid. You fucking show up here, all smiles and danger, making light of a serious situation.”
“Indeed, this is definitely serious, but come on , that was pretty good, right? And that is why I’m here. I’ll explain more once we’re on the road. ”
“We’re not getting in any car with you. In fact, you’re slowly going to back away and leave before I kill you myself, and I will if it means keeping my son and his only parent alive.”
“No can do. I’m much more equipped to protect you and Owen than you are.”
The fear suddenly washed away, replaced by rage, as my knuckles turned white, holding the gun. “How do you know his name? You do not get to say it!”
Sid walked over to me, uncaring about my gun pointed at him, and pressed his chest to the barrel. Was he fucking insane? Jesus. And why didn’t I just pull the trigger? Because I wasn’t a killer. Even if he was dangerous, I couldn’t shoot an unarmed man.
“We don’t have time for this, Dalton. Get in the car. I’m driving. They’ve already tracked you. So, I’m going to tell you again. Come with me if you want to live because I will do my best to protect you.”
Before I could ask why he was bothering to ‘ save me ,’ screeching tires in the distance made my decision clear. I holstered my gun and quickly put Owen into his car seat as Sid jumped into the driver’s seat, starting the car. I jumped in just in time as a bullet shattered the back window of my car.
“What the…” I yelled as Owen wailed in fear.
“These guys are not law enforcement,” Sid said as he sped off. “Law enforcement wouldn’t have shot at you like this.”
“No fucking shit!” The FBI definitely wouldn’t have. In fact, they’d probably have us surrounded by now, leaving us with nowhere to go, forcing us to surrender.
“Now stay quiet and let me focus on getting us out of here alive.” Sid was much too calm while I tried to keep from panicking .
I looked back at my son to make sure he hadn’t been hit. His eyes were large and filled with tears as he cried, holding onto Danny, but he seemed unharmed other than that, despite shattered glass everywhere, but most of it was on the other side of the car.
“Get us away from the busy streets. I’ll try to take them out,” I said.
“Can you even handle a gun, Boy Scout?”
I huffed. “I was at the top of my class.”
“Then why the hell did you become an analyst?”
“Because I wanted a family to come home to each night—alive.”
“And how’s that working out for you?”
“You know what? Fuck you, Sid. This isn’t my fault, and you know it. At least I did some good with my life and didn’t turn into some fucking murderer.”
Sid looked at me for a flash with a raised brow. “Why in the hell do you think I’m some murderer?”
I thumbed behind us. “Please, if they were hired, so were you. How else did you find me, and why after twenty-seven years?”
Sid grinned like an asshole. How was he so flippant about all this? “Hmm, good point. Well, you seem to be doing fine with this murderer .”
“I’m not an idiot. I know when I need help. But when this is over, you and I are going to have words .”
Sid just nodded, focused on the road while avoiding cars, and cutting corners as fast as possible without tipping us over or alerting the police. We wouldn’t be able to shake our tail until we drove outside of the city .
“No shooting. We don’t want to draw the police into this!” Sid yelled over the engine, screeching tires, and my wailing son, reading my mind. He seemed so calm through all this that I hadn’t noticed his white knuckles gripping the steering wheel. “I’ll get you to Clara Barton Parkway. That’s the best I can do.”
I nodded, filled with so many questions, but all I could do was hang on as we took a sharp left, then immediately a sharp right.
“Why aren’t they shooting at us anymore?” I asked.
“The same reason we’re not. They want you dead and don’t want to get caught.”
“Bluntly put…”
“We’re five minutes out,” Sid warned.
I pulled my Glock from my holster again, making sure the bullet was still chambered, and I opened the sunroof.
“Keep the car steady,” I said.
“I’ll do my best.”
“Daddy,” Owen cried out in fear.
I looked back at him and gave him a reassuring smile. “It’s going to be okay, Little Man. Be a brave boy for me, okay?”
He nodded with wet eyes and a trembling mouth. I sucked back the pain of terrifying my son to focus on getting us out of this alive. I’d worry about his mental state afterward.
God, he would need therapy after this… if we even lived through it.
As soon as we reached the lush greenbelt of Clara Barton Parkway, I unbuckled my seatbelt and climbed up to the roof, bracing myself as much as possible. There were still too many damn cars on the road, but at least it wasn’t rush hour .
The two speeding cars had kept up with Sid’s maneuvers despite how good he was, which meant they were also well-trained. I had no other choice but to take them out. But the last thing I wanted to do was kill anyone. It also put innocent drivers at risk, but I couldn’t think of any other way to get out of this.
“Let them get closer!” I yelled down to Sid. “I need to take out their tires.”
“Fucking kill them!”
“Just do it!” I insisted.
Sid slowed down just enough to allow me to take aim, which wasn’t easy as he weaved in and out of traffic. Fuck, if I took out the cars, I ran the risk of them hitting other vehicles, too. But I didn’t have a choice. My son was my priority.
I fired off a couple of rounds at the front tires of one of the vehicles, but I missed. While I was a good shot, it wasn’t easy to get a good aim while speeding down the road, dodging traffic.
When one of the assholes rolled down his window to aim at me, I fired off several consecutive shots, finally hitting a tire. They swerved and tried to regain control, but they couldn’t keep driving on three tires. They ended up pulling over safely, not hitting other vehicles in the process.
Sid suddenly swerved, and my heart tried to leap out of my throat. I clung to the roof to keep from falling out, nearly dropping my gun. He instantly grabbed a handful of my jeans to keep me inside as I aimed again.
“Take them out, Dalton!” Sid yelled over the wind and traffic.
“No fucking pressure,” I mumbled to myself as I took aim at their front tire, but before I could shoot, the passenger hung out the window and shot several rounds, all missing me except for the last one.
“ Fuck !” I hissed.
The burn traveled through my entire torso after hitting my side. It was just a graze, but it still hurt like a motherfucker.
With a deep breath, pushing away the pain, I fired the rest of my magazine into the tire. Several bullets hit, nearly exploding the tire as it swerved, barely missing other cars before it ended up rolling into the ditch.
When I looked behind us, we seemed to be free of bad guys, except for the police in the distance, who were quickly gaining on us. Someone must have called them.
Fuck! I got first-hand experience of the old idiom, ‘ out of the frying pan and into the fire .’
I dropped into my seat and buckled up before checking on Owen, who was still crying, with a blotchy red face, and clinging to Danny for dear life.
“We’re going to be okay, Little Man. I swear.”
He nodded with a pouty and trembling lip, wanting to believe me, trusting his father. I calmed the boiling rage at the people who would want to harm something so precious and innocent. They were uncaring that I had a child with me.
“Get us out of here, Sid. The cops are on our tail.”
“Tell me something I don’t fucking know.”