Chapter 24 #2
Grace’s eyes fluttered, and she wriggled as if waking up, but then gave a few sucks on her pacifier and settled back down.
They had maybe another half an hour before her next bottle.
The backpack with the supplies had been with Dawson.
They had nothing to feed her with, and Peyton was terrified of what Ricky would do if the baby started screaming.
He’d been calculated and cold, but she sensed there was anger boiling beneath that calm exterior.
Ricky plugged the USB drive into the laptop. The desk was covered with old fast-food wrappers and loose-leaf papers. He pulled out the chair and sat down. “What’s the password, Lilia?”
She remained silent. Ricky turned to face her, even as his weapon was pointed at Peyton. “I can and will shoot her from right here.”
“You won’t hurt Grace.”
“I’ll do what I have to do to get what I want.”
His tone was deadly flat. Peyton’s heart pounded against her ribcage as trembles raced through her.
What kind of monster threatened to harm an innocent child?
Lilia also looked stunned, as if she hadn’t expected the threat against her baby.
Then resignation washed over her face. She rattled off a series of numbers, letters, and symbols in rapid succession.
“Slow down,” Ricky ordered. He typed the passcode in, but the file didn’t open. “It’s wrong. Start again, and this time go slowly.”
Lilia did, but once again, the file didn’t open.
Ricky growled in frustration.
“It’ll be easier if you just let me type it.” Lilia leaned her head against the wall. Her complexion was pale, as if the very act of talking had drained her.
Suspicion crossed Risky’s face. “If this is a trick—”
“It's not a trick.” Lilia's voice was hollow with exhaustion. “You have Peyton and Grace. I wouldn’t risk their lives. The password is thirty-two characters long. Numbers, letters, and symbols. I designed it so that no one could guess it or type it from memory. I have to see the keyboard.”
Peyton kept her muscles relaxed, but her heart skipped a beat.
Lilia was lying. Her cousin could count cards in a Vegas casino and do trigonometry in her head.
A woman with that kind of mind didn't need to see a keyboard to type a password she'd created herself.
She could have rattled it off perfectly the first time.
Which meant she'd given the wrong password on purpose. Twice.
What was she up to?
Ricky seemed to weigh his options. Then he crossed to Lilia and unlocked the handcuffs. “Try anything and I’ll kill them both.”
“I won’t.” Lilia rubbed her raw wrists and slowly—painfully—got to her feet.
She swayed, grabbing the radiator pipe for balance.
Peyton's heart ached watching her. Days of captivity had taken their toll. Their eyes met for the briefest of moments, and something in her cousin’s expression hinted at a buried strength.
Then Lilia shuffled to the table and lowered herself into the chair.
Her fingers hovered over the keyboard. Ricky stood behind her.
Carefully, she pecked at the keyboard—another sign she was up to something since Lilia was an excellent typist—and then hit enter.
The screen shifted as the USB drive opened.
A hunger appeared in Ricky’s expression. His attention was locked on the laptop screen. “Where’s the bank account number? The one that has all the money you stole from Cade.”
Peyton shifted ever so slightly, using the wall to support her weight as she got her feet underneath her.
“It’s buried in a folder.” Lilia’s fingers moved over the trackpad as her other hand disappeared from sight. “I’ll pull it up for you.”
“Quickly.”
Lilia tapped on the trackpad, and something new filled the screen. Ricky’s expression morphed into a slow smile as he leaned over further. “Two million dollars. It’s all here.”
Without warning, Lilia’s hand whipped out from underneath the balled-up food wrappers, a pen clutched tightly in her grip. She slammed it into Ricky’s throat. He staggered back, howling, his hand flying to the wound. The gun clattered to the floor.
Peyton sprang from her position, lifting one leg and driving it straight into his chest before spinning around to swipe his feet out from underneath him.
Ricky slammed to the ground. Movement out of the corner of Peyton’s eye warned her to shift, and she stepped back just as Lilia, with every ounce of strength she had, slammed the folding chair against Ricky’s head.
A sickening crack echoed through the room. He went limp.
Lilia panted, and the chair clattered from her hands. She looked ready to topple over. “Is he…”
“I don’t know.” Peyton wouldn’t waste time trying to figure it out. Her duty was to save Lilia and Grace, and there were more criminals coming. “We need to get out of here. The keys to the cuffs. And the car. They’re in his pocket.”
Lilia dropped to her knees and rifled through Ricky’s pockets, finding both sets. She stumbled as she struggled to her feet and nearly dropped the handcuff keys twice before she got one of the cuffs undone.
“Leave it.” Peyton snatched the car keys from Lilia's other hand, the loose cuff swinging from her wrist. There was no time. “Grab the laptop. Don't leave it behind.”
Lilia slammed the laptop shut, tucking it under her arm. Peyton scooped Ricky's gun from the floor, and they ran.
The front door banged open against the wall as they burst onto the sagging porch. Rain hit Peyton's face. Grace jolted awake and started wailing. The sedan sat where Ricky had parked it, ten feet away. Peyton hit the unlock button on the key fob, and the taillights flashed.
“Get in!” She yanked open the driver's door as Lilia threw herself into the passenger seat, the laptop clutched against her chest. Peyton slid behind the wheel, one hand shielding Grace in the sling, the dangling handcuff clanking against the steering column. She jammed the key into the ignition.
Headlights swept across the farmhouse as a van turned onto the rutted drive, blocking their only means of escape.
It was too late.
Peyton acted without thinking. She pulled a whimpering Grace from the sling and passed her to Lilia, saying, “Get down and stay down,” pushing them both toward the wheel well. Thunder rolled, vibrating through Peyton, and she prayed the sound of the storm would muffle the baby’s cries.
She eased open the driver’s side door as the van rocked to a stop. Peyton immediately recognized it as the vehicle used in the attack against her and Dawson.
A man exited the driver’s seat.
Marvis. Even through the rain, she recognized the lanky frame, and the unevenly cut hair plastered to his skull. He looked wilder than his mugshot — unshaven, strung out, his eyes darting between the sedan and the farmhouse. A pistol hung at his side.
All Peyton had was the element of surprise. He expected them to be in the house with Ricky.
She lowered herself behind the driver’s side door, using it as cover. Rain pelted her head and shoulders as she pointed the gun at Marvis, taking aim. Doors slammed as two other men exited the truck. More members of the Iron Serpents. Peyton’s heart thundered. Three to one. Not great.
Go to the house. Go to the house.
Marvis jerked his chin toward the front door, and the two men moved ahead, boots crunching on the gravel.
Peyton stopped breathing as they drew closer.
Rain streamed down the window, distorting the glass.
From his angle, the car should look empty.
Lilia and Grace were curled in the passenger footwell, invisible in the dark.
The three men passed her heading for the house.
She let go of the breath she had been holding.
And then Grace set up a wail that carried over the sound of the storm.
Marvis’s head snapped around. Peyton fired in rapid succession, sending the men scrambling for cover. Heart pounding, she collapsed into the driver’s seat and fired up the engine. Lilia screamed as a gunshot ripped through the back window of the sedan, shattering the glass.
Peyton hit the gas. The car fishtailed in the mud as more gunshots rang out.
She gritted her teeth as she clipped a tree attempting to make the turn onto the drive leading to the road.
The steering wheel jerked in her hands, and the vehicle careened out of control, landing in a bush. The engine died.
“No!” Peyton frantically twisted the ignition.
Then the night exploded.
The woods erupted with movement. Voices—sharp and commanding—cut through the chaos.
“Police! Get on the ground! NOW!”
Peyton kept Ricky's gun raised, her body angled over Lilia and Grace.
Tremors shook her body. It was impossible to tell who was who.
Her finger hovered on the trigger, even as prayers lifted from her heart.
Rain beat against the sedan, making it impossible to see.
Icy air blew in through the shattered back window.
Then one large figure broke from the others. Limping. Favoring his left leg.
Dawson.
Relief crashed over her, so intense she nearly went dizzy with it. Peyton swallowed down the lump in her throat and ran her hand over Lilia’s back. Her cousin was silently sobbing, clutching her child.
“We’re safe, Lilia. We’re all safe. You did it.”
Lilia lifted her head, tears streaming down her dirty cheeks. “We did it.”
Dawson wrenched open the car door. Peyton threw herself into his arms, holding on with everything she had, and knew, no matter what, she was never letting go.
“I’ve got you, babe,” he whispered against her hair. “I’ve got you. It's over.”