9. Roman
ROMAN
I feel Rue tremble against my side as we stand in the empty parking garage near the cabin, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. Kurt sits slumped in a wheelchair between Lydia and Graham, his thin frame swallowed by an oversized hoodie. Dark circles bruise the skin under his eyes.
Rue makes a broken sound, and I pull her closer, my hand firm at her waist.
"Look at you," Lydia says, her voice sharp and sweet like broken glass dipped in honey.
She lights a cigarette, the flame casting shadows across her gaunt face.
"Acting all high and mighty when we asked you to spread those pretty legs and seduce a few marks.
But here you are." She waves the cigarette at us.
"Finally doing what you're told. Fucking not just one man but two.
Your stepbrother and stepfather." She laughs, the sound cruel.
"At least you obeyed me. Just too late. We're going for early retirement now, baby girl. "
"Shut your fucking mouth." Dad's voice drops to something deadly. He steps forward, and Lydia flinches despite herself. "You don't get to talk to her. Not anymore."
"Easy there, big man." Graham holds up his hands, his eyes darting between us. Sweat beads on his forehead. "Let's just do this clean."
"You armed? Because if you are, little Kurt is gonna suffer the consequences." Lydia asks, trying to sound tough but her hand shakes as she brings the cigarette to her lips.
"No." Dad spreads his arms, showing the empty space at his waistband. "You?"
"It depends." Lydia scoffs.
I scan Graham's ill-fitting polo and Lydia's tight jeans. No bulges, no obvious weapons. Dad catches my eye and gives a tiny nod.
"The money's in the bag." Dad sets a black duffel on the concrete between us. "Two million. Count it if you want."
Lydia jerks her chin at Graham, who scurries forward to grab it. He unzips it, rifles through the stacks of bills with shaking fingers.
"It's all here," he mumbles.
"Then send the boy." Dad's jaw flexes.
Lydia grips the wheelchair handles. For a second I think she won't do it, that she'll find some new sick game to play. Then she shoves the chair forward, hard enough that Kurt has to grab the armrests to keep from sliding out.
Rue breaks from my hold and runs to him, dropping to her knees in front of the wheelchair. She cups his pale face in both hands, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Kurt. Oh god, Kurt."
"Hey Rue." His voice cracks, weak but trying to smile. "Missed you."
She pulls him into her arms, careful of his frail body, and sobs into his shoulder.
"Well." Lydia hoists the duffel over her shoulder, the weight making her stagger. "Guess this is goodbye. Enjoy your fucked-up little family." She looks at Rue one last time, her lip curling. "You were always such a disappointment."
Graham follows her like a kicked dog as they head toward a beat-up sedan parked in the shadows. The engine turns over with a cough, headlights cutting through the dark.
Lydia leans out the window as they pass. "Thanks for the retirement fund, sweetheart!"
Then they leave.
The sedan's taillights disappear around the corner. Rue cradles Kurt, whispering promises into his hair while he clings to her hoodie with pale, shaking fingers.
I turn to my stepdad, keeping my voice low.
"Dad. You're really just gonna let them walk away? After everything they did?"
Dad's mouth curves into something cold and satisfied. The fluorescent lights cast harsh shadows across his face, making him look carved from stone.
"That's what they think."
Before I can ask what he means, sirens wail in the distance. Red and blue lights flash beyond the garage entrance, painting the concrete walls in strobing color.
"What—"
"Everything's been handled since we tracked them.
" Dad crosses his arms, his expression calm.
"I called the investigator to document every threat Lydia made, every call, every location they kept him.
Tracked their bank accounts, found evidence of fraud.
" He checks his watch. "Right about now, they're realizing that duffel's full of marked bills and GPS trackers. "
The sirens grow louder. Through the garage entrance I catch glimpses of squad cars boxing in the sedan. Doors slam. Voices shout commands.
"You planned this whole thing." I shake my head, half in awe, half in disbelief. "The money, the meet?—"
"Had to catch them in the act. Kidnapping, extortion, child endangerment." Dad ticks off charges on his fingers. "The DA's been waiting for enough evidence to make charges stick. I gave him everything wrapped up with a bow."
"Drop the weapon!"
"Hands where we can see them!"
Lydia's voice carries across the distance, high and panicked, screaming something about being set up. Glass shatters. More shouting.
Rue lifts her head from Kurt's shoulder, her face wet with tears. She stares toward the commotion, then back at dad.
"They're really?—"
"Being arrested. Yes." Dad walks over, drops into a crouch beside the wheelchair. He looks at Kurt, his hard expression softening just slightly. "Kid. You're safe now. Your sister's safe. Those two will never hurt either of you again."
Kurt blinks, his thin face confused. His fingers twist in Rue's sleeve.
"Who are you?"
"Family." Dad stands, offers his hand. "Let's get you out of here. You need a hospital."
"I'll get the car." I jog toward the exit, pulling out my phone to text the driver who's been waiting three blocks away like dad instructed.
Of course he had a backup plan. Of course he staged this whole thing to trap Lydia and Graham in front of witnesses and cops. The man doesn't make moves without thinking ten steps ahead.
The black SUV pulls up as I reach the entrance. Through the windshield I see Graham being shoved into the back of a squad car, his face gray and defeated. Lydia fights against the officers, her carefully dyed hair falling loose, makeup smeared.
She catches sight of me watching. Even from this distance I see her mouth twist with rage, screaming words I can't hear over the sirens.
I flip her off and turn back toward my family.
Dad's already lifting Kurt from the wheelchair, gentle despite his size, while Rue hovers close. She looks up at me when I approach, amber eyes wide and still disbelieving.
"It's over," I tell her. "They're gone. You and Kurt are now free."