CHAPTER 35
I’m woken by a flash. A moment later there’s another as a bolt of heat lightning streaks across the moonless sky. Dark clouds have gathered, blocking out the stars.
I stare into the blackened room around me, listening.
Hear only the soft sounds of Jake’s breathing as he sleeps curled around me, one arm pillowing my head, the other draped across my chest. Another bolt of electricity forks across the sky, revealing the stark contrast between the dark tan of his skin against the pale curves of my breasts. Then I’m shrouded in darkness again.
I wish I could stay here forever. In this place, in this moment, in the arms of the man I love. It almost kills me that I can’t. But the threat of death is greater if I do.
Gently, I lift his arm and wiggle out from beneath it.
Whisper the word “bathroom,” in case I’ve stirred him to consciousness.
Stand there, looking down at where I know he lies just long enough for the room to illuminate again, searing the image of him as he sleeps into my brain, before I creep down the hall.
Shutting the door to the bedroom, I turn on one of the lamps, using the light to dress. Locate the pad of paper and pen I found earlier and use it to scribble a note.
I love you more than I would have ever thought possible. Please don’t be mad. I’ll be back as soon as I can, and this will all be over. ~ C
I pray that it’s true as I grab the car keys off the dresser. The gun from beneath the mattress. Some cash from the backpack stashed on a shelf in the closet. Stare at the phone, finally deciding to leave it in case I’m wrong and I fail and Jake needs to call for a way out of here.
Then I turn the lamp off, feeling my way in the dark until I find the back door. Inch it open. Turn the lock on the knob so it will latch as I pull it closed behind me.
The sounds of the car seem painfully loud against the still of the night.
Every crunch of gravel beneath the tires makes me flinch as I crawl down the narrow lane, trying not to disturb any of the campers.
Finally, I pull out onto the road. I make it only a mile before I pull over, blinded by the tears that stream hot and thick down my cheeks.
I punch the steering wheel as I cry, loud, angry sobs that wrack through my body.
I weep at the pain of leaving like I did, without even a goodbye.
At the unfairness of it all. How hurt Jake will be when he wakes to find me gone.
And how angry I am that any of this is necessary in the first place.
It’s this emotion that I use to pull myself together.
Wiping my eyes dry, I continue my journey.
The clock on the car dashboard tells me it’s just after 3 a.m. It will be hours before anything opens.
But I’m going to need every moment of that time.
Without the phone’s GPS app to navigate with, I’ll have to drive around, searching for the places that I need.
Time seems to stand still as I journey across a series of islands connected by a string of narrow bridges, all of which I appear to have to myself, yet before I know it, the indigo sky is paling.
I make my stops. Collect my purchases. Have found a place for the car and a spot to hide before the heat of the new day has had a chance to gather.
So much of this relies on chance. If one thing goes wrong, the rest of the pieces of my plan will collapse like dominoes set into motion. That’s why I can’t let anything go wrong.
I have to take my time. Do things right. Even if my bladder feels like it’s going to burst by the time I step out of the bushes and place the barrel of the pistol I hold snugly between the man’s ribs.
He yelps. Tries to twist away, but I already have my other hand clenched in a fist around his belt.
“Quiet. If you do as I say, I won’t kill you. Do you understand?”
His shaggy hair flops as he nods.
“Good. Now we’re going to turn around—slowly—to face the back of the parking lot. Then we’re going to go through the hedge to the other side. Got it?”
Another nod.
“All right. Let’s go.”
We move as one, branches scraping against us as we squeeze through a gap hardly wide enough for an underfed alley cat. But getting to the other side is only a fraction of this battle.
“Get in the car. The driver’s side.”
I slip into the seat behind him as he gets behind the wheel.
“Take out your phone. Turn it on, set it on the console, then put your hands on the wheel.”
I wait until he’s done as I’ve said, then I take the device and go into the settings to disable the screen lock.
“What do you plan to do?” he asks.
He pales, recognition dawning across his face as I make eye contact with him in the rearview mirror. I smile.
“Don’t worry about that.”
Opening his contacts, I scroll, but don’t see the name I’m looking for.
“What do you have Garrett’s number saved under in here?”
“Uh-uh. There’s no way I’m telling you that. He’ll kill me if I do.”
“Did he tell you who I am?”
“Yeah.”
“Then you should know that you won’t have to worry about him by the time I’m done.”
His mouth drops open, but no words come out.
“It doesn’t matter,” I say. “You probably weren’t smart enough to delete the call after you placed it.”
Sure enough, there’s a call in the log that corresponds with the time Jake and I were in the bank yesterday saved under the name Mr. G, though whether the G stands for Garrett or Glover I couldn’t say.
All I know for sure is that the man who’d been caught in the Facebook photo with the hitman, the one a Google Lens search identified as Garrett Glover, looks too much like Jake for comfort.
Considering that he’s using Janine’s maiden name, the one she chose for the account at the bank, it makes sense that they’re related. But how closely are they connected?
The pictures I found online were all too old or blurry for me to determine what age he might be. I tried searching vital records, but I didn’t even know what town to search, so it’s not surprising that I was unable to find anything.
As much as I’ve longed to ask Mallory for help, to see what she can uncover about the man, to at least find out whether Garrett Glover is his real name or an alias, I can’t. I don’t want to put my friend in danger, and this? It’s a big steaming pile of it.
So I’m forced to go in blind. For all I know, Janine had another son after she left Gator Glade. This man, Garrett, could be Jake’s younger brother.
Which means that no matter how badly I want to end this with violence, I need to do my best not to let it escalate to that. Because if Jake does have a sibling he’s never met before, I can’t be the one to take that opportunity away from him.
The tattooed teller in the seat before me lifts a hand.
“Don’t,” I say.
“I have an itch.”
“Too bad. How well do you know Janine?”
“Who?”
“Cadence Glover?”
“That’s a real person?”
I stifle a groan. This guy doesn’t strike me as smart enough to be lying.
“How many accounts does Garrett have at your bank?”
He shakes his head, refusing to answer.
“We can do this the easy way, or the hard way.”
Still, he’s silent.
“You leave me no choice.”
I press the green icon next to the phone number to dial. Wait several rings, my nerves ratcheting with each one of them, until the call is answered.
“Eddie, my man, what’s up?”
“This isn’t Eddie,” I say, meeting the bank teller’s frantic gaze in the mirror and smirking. “He thought I should make this call myself.”
There’s a long drawn out pause that I take for shock, but when the man speaks, his voice sounds amused, like he’s on the verge of laughing. “Cassidy Knox.”
“Garrett Glover.”
“You are a crafty one, aren’t you?”
“I’m highly motivated. And I’m on my way to a warehouse listed in your name on the tax roll. You know the one I’m talking about?”
“I do.”
“Then how about you meet me there in ten minutes?”
“It would be my pleasure.”
“Come alone, no weapons, and we’ll keep the chat friendly.”
Hanging up, I use the phone to tap the tattooed man on his shoulder. “I guess now you’re better off with me surviving than him. Here, take this and get out of the car.”
“What are you going to do to me?”
“Nothing.”
He turns to face me with a startled expression. I hand him his phone.
“I’m not the bad guy here. You should remember that.”
His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard, giving a single nod before he jumps out of the car like he’s afraid I might change my mind. The truth is, I don’t want to hurt anyone. But that doesn’t mean I won’t.