Chapter 16 #2
Mads grabbed ahold of the emergency brake and yanked. Both of us jerked forwards, seat belts locking us into place, as the car came careening to a stop. I was losing control of the situation. The car being in motion was my only upper hand.
“I am! Peter is living happily in Minnesota with his wife and three children.”
“You’re lying.”
“I think you wish I were lying. Because the truth is not something you want to consider.”
“And what truth is that?”
“That Peter and his parents were working with me.”
No. “No!” More of my life was a lie. So much of it had been manipulated.
My breathing came hard and fast. I'd shoved the memories of Isaiah, Liam, and Peter, so far back in my mental drawer that I rarely thought about them because the pain of their loss still hurt. Now, I had to add two more people on my already overtaxed conscience. Isaiah died because of me. Liam’s legs were broken, his family uprooted, because of me.
And Peter, while he and his family had betrayed me, I felt a strange sense of relief, all because I was not the source of another family’s pain and suffering, even if their actions caused mine.
Before Mads’ revelation, I had the luxury of thinking the violence of my youth was unrelated, that it had been a string of bad luck. A curse on me, but in reality, I was the curse. I brought Mads upon them and I hadn’t even known it.
“Now, get out of the car, Delilah.” Mads fixed the pistol on me again. “We’ll be switching vehicles.”
With the car stopped, I had two minutes. Two minutes to get everything I needed.
Following Mads’ directions wasn’t part of the plan.
I scanned our surroundings. With no other vehicle in sight, Mads must have had another vehicle stored somewhere or otherwise coordinated pick up.
But with how flat the terrain was, we’d be able to see someone coming from a mile away.
I eyed the cornfield to my left. Despite it being July, the crop was already shoulder height.
It was my one and only shot at stalling.
“Tell me everything and I just might come willingly.”
He pointed the pistol at my legs. “I think you’re over estimating how much of you has to be intact for you to play your role.” It was his way of telling me I was only of use from the waist up. I held back the urge to dry-heave.
“I think you’re underestimating how fast I’ll bleed out. Now, convince me to come willingly, or shoot me and get this over with.”
Oh god, why did I say that?
Please don’t shoot. Please don’t shoot.
“You know, don’t you?” Mads cocked his head. “You know how much you’re worth. You know just how much I have on the line with you.”
What the hell was he talking about? I raised a brow. Neither confirming nor denying.
“Damn it! You do!” He smacked his free hand on the dashboard.
“You know, I was gonna take you back when you turned eighteen. Most others wouldn’t have waited that long, so trust me when I say I was being kind to you.
Then you went and got stabbed, and all my hard work had gone to shit!
My kindness was repaid with a fucking tragedy. ”
Slowly, I unclipped my seat belt. “I’m hearing excuses, not convincing.”
Mads ran his fingers through his hair, again.
“The Seal thought you were barren. So, you meant nothing to them. You fell off their radar.” Mads smiled to himself, like he was remembering his choices and how well they had served him.
“Suddenly, your stabbing was an opportunity because I had an advantage. I knew you better than anyone else, that you were stronger than you looked, that you were a fighter, and so while the rest of the Seal forgot about you, and placed their bets elsewhere, I doubled down.”
What the hell was he talking about? Bets? The part of my plan where I pretended to know what was going on was backfiring because without more context Mads’ explanation wasn’t making a lot of sense.
“I let the others think you were sterile, and out of the running, while I did my job.” He looked proud of himself.
The fucking man thought he was a genius and not the stalking, manipulating, murderer I was stuck in a car with.
“But I needed more resources. Tracking you as you were shipped between hospitals, your brother glued to your side, was my full-time job, and I still lost you. I needed to pick up your trail, but I couldn’t track you or your medical records without drawing attention to myself.
So, I assembled a team. Paid them from my own pocket.
Knowing that someday the payoff would be worth it. ”
My skin itched, my brain burned, I needed to make sense of the nonsense Mads was spewing. It took all my might to stay where I was, to look unaffected, while pieces of my world unraveled around me.
“It took a while to pick up your scent,” his choice of words made my skin crawl, “and by then even I realized I’d underestimated you.
You and your brother working for Leslie’s Pies was unexpected.
But not unmanageable. Plus, I had very good reason to believe that your ability to play your role was very much intact. ”
“Because you messed with my head! You manipulated me! You made me think I was cursed!” So much for remaining unaffected.
“Trust me, I’ve done a lot worse, Delilah.” The corners of his mouth turned up. “The longer you were out of the Seal’s picture, your worth only climbed. I needed to make sure you didn’t get any ideas, and what a better way to keep you in one place than to know exactly where you were at all times?”
In prison. He put me in prison. Which meant—
“You, you!” I launched my fist at his face before I could complete my thought, his nose cracked against my knuckles.
Mads didn’t know what hit him as I bolted from the car.
The back of my hand slick, wet, I didn’t have to look back to know that blood trickled down his nose. I’d process everything later.
“Get back here, Delilah!” The passenger-side-door slammed shut. From my experience in Monongahela, I knew Mads had decent aim with a hand-gun at a distance.
I needed to disappear.
I was ten paces away from the cornfield. Ducking down, I’d be able to hide quite easily. I could do it, so long as Mads decided not to shoot.
Running as fast my feet could carry me, I slipped between the stalks.
Greenery slapped past my cheeks, my thighs. The stalks wiggled as I maneuvered between the rows before banking left and following a dirt path to minimize the disturbance. Mads couldn’t track me if he couldn’t tell where I was going.
But I didn’t go deep. I needed to stay close enough to the road to keep tabs on Mads. Creating just enough distance so he wouldn’t be able to trail me, I stayed close enough to the road to glimpse slivers of him through the foliage.
“Get out here, Delilah!” Mads stood above the ditch, scanning the field. “So, help me, I’ll raze this cornfield if I have to!”
Crouching, I plucked a green ear of corn from the base of the nearest stalk.
It was stifling hot in the field, sweat coated my everything, but my blood ran cold. I had to pay attention. I needed to stay alert. And Mads needed to keep his focus off the road.
Tossing the ear of corn down the path, it smacked along in the opposite direction, making contact with as many plants as I could muster before it dropped to the ground.
The decoy had the intended effect. Mads left his post, barreling towards the motion.
But I was ready.
Mads pushed through the stalks like a bulldozer. Stems snapped and cracked, rage radiated off him in waves. And the second his back was turned—storming towards the corn I’d thrown— I charged.
Now, upon reflection, it may have been foolish to run at an armed man while his back was turned, but it was my one and only plan to disarm him. He had the weight and weapon advantage, but I had speed. I needed to take him by surprise.
Launching myself at him like an undersized linebacker, I drove all my weight into my shoulders, knocking him forward.
Bang!
I crash-landed on top of Mads. His arms splayed out in front of him, his chest slammed into the dirt. The weapon smoking in his hand meant he must’ve pulled the trigger. I just hoped to all hope that the bullet was off lying in the cornfield somewhere.
Shot or not, the gun needed to go.
Mads’ chest rattled as he sucked in a breath.
The wind had been knocked out of him. Good.
Ignoring the dull pain in my ribs, I jammed my fist on the back of his gun-wielding wrist. Smack, smack, until his fingers spread.
When he lost his grip on the trigger, I grabbed the gun by the barrel before flinging it as far as I could into the center of the cornfield.
There was no way it would be located any time soon. Not when it mattered.
Sprawled beneath me, without his weapon, Mads lost his advantage. I jammed my elbow in between his shoulder blades. “You ruined my life you son-of-a-bitch!”