Page 35 of The Tower

Keane

"Where are we going?"

It's not the first time she's asked that question since we got in the car, and it's not the first time I feel inclined to just ignore her.

To spare her.

After all, it's all I've really ever wanted for her—to be spared from all this. Spared from the truth about her cold and insincere family, spared from the terror their misdeeds brought upon her. Spared from the pain.

Spared from having her life put in danger just because she's a blood relative to these people.

But even I have to acknowledge we've reached a point of no return. Libby is in acute danger, and while I will do my best to protect her, I can do it all the better if she's in the know about the things that endanger her and the people who're chasing her now.

"Your uncle is dead," I tell her, keeping my eyes on the road to spare myself from the tears she will undoubtedly shed about that news.

But Libby doesn't comply with my expectations of her. She remains calm, barely showing any reaction to my words. She's sitting next to me, wrapped in a winter coat I'd bought for myself but must be way too warm. The bloodstained sneakers on her feet are the only possession she has left.

The valley is dipped in warm sun, another deceivingly beautiful day cloaking the terrible things that could await us as we drive away from the place that sheltered us for almost a week. Food supplies have been running low, and I know we would have left sooner than later anyway.

However, I did not expect it to happen like this. I did not expect to be on the run, chased by the Covey.

And I have no idea how they even found me. Tom was the only person I talked to ever since we left the medical safe house, and I was careful never to mention the fact that the girl he saw me taking from the roof was still with me.

There's so much weighing on me now, even more than before.

The fact she's not crying, not even sniveling, not uttering a single word after hearing the news about her uncle unsettles me.

"I'm sorry," I add, if only to break the eerie silence between us.

"Don't be," she responds. "It's not like you killed him."

That's where she's wrong. The Covey found Clyde Abbott hiding in his secret cabin in the redwood forest. The one that Libby was sent to as a teenager, the one that no one in the Covey knew about until I told Tom what I'd heard from Libby.

I didn’t pull the trigger, but I led the Covey to him.

"They found him on the West Coast," I tell her. "In the cabin you told me about."

This time, she does react to my words. She sucks in a sharp breath and turns to me. "You told them about that?"

I nod.

"Did you tell him about me, too?" she probes. "Is that why they're after us now?"

"No," I reply truthfully, biting my lips in anger. "I told my buddy about the hut, suggesting they should try to locate it. I didn't even know if your uncle would actually be there. But it turns out he was, and he didn't expect to be found. So the Covey had it easy with him."

"But you said nothing about me? You never mentioned my name? You didn't tell them where you got your information? They didn’t ask?"

Of course, Tom asked. Plenty of times. But I refused to tell him and just insisted they look into that little piece of info I could give them.

I never said anything about Libby, but as I said, Tom is no idiot.

And he's fucking angry with me. He was yelling, threatening me, saying that he told Boss everything, and that they're coming to get me. Now.

His furious voice still echoes inside my head.

"I didn't tell them anything about you," I clarify. "But they found out anyway. The guys who worked with me that night, they saw me fleeing with you. And they know I brought you to the medic safe house. The fact that I disappeared shortly after doesn't exactly help my case. It only made them more suspicious."

"But how do they know?" Libby probes further. "How do they know about me? And about the house?"

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