Page 38 of The Tower

The guy laughs again, raising both of his hands in a defensive move.

"Whoa, whoa, buddy, you don't see me pointing a gun at anyone, do you?" he says, arching his eyebrows. "How about you calm down a little?"

"How about you tell me what you're doing here, Tom?" Keane responds, sounding so angry and tense that I'm actually afraid for the other guy's life for a moment.

Tom has a point. So far, Keane is the only one threatening anybody.

"Please, Keane," I murmur in a low voice, hoping to appease him with just the tone of my voice. He needs to keep a cool head, and right now, it looks like his fear for me and the tension that has built up over the past week are both getting the better of him. There's nothing levelheaded about the way he's acting right now. On the contrary, he seems too much on edge, ready to pull a trigger that possibly doesn't need to be pulled.

He may not have expected to see this Tom guy here, but the man is not visibly threatening us right now.

It works. Keane's eyes trail back over his shoulder, resting on me for a few seconds as if to make sure I really am okay before he slowly lowers his gun. His shoulders fall as the tension eases just the slightest bit, making room for the clarity we need right now.

"What are you doing here?" he asks Tom. "Why did you send the Covey after us?"

Tom doesn't respond right away. Instead, his gaze travels over to me, scanning me from head to toe, his eyes resting a little longer on my crippled shoulder and the arm resting in its splint.

"Elizabeth Caroline Abbott," he says, enunciating every syllable of my full name. Each and every single one of them sends a cold spark through my chest. It's as if he's undressing me, exposing my every little secret. By using my full name, he makes it seem as if he knew more about me than Keane. He's always just known me as Libby, the name I've used for myself since I was ten years old and tired of being called Elizabeth.

"What a well-guarded secret you were," he continues, and when he makes a move to approach me again, Keane immediately raises his gun at him. He casts him a quick glance, rolling his eyes in annoyance, but stops.

"Why are you here?" Keane spits at him. "What do you want? Why did you send the Covey after us?"

Tom lets a few seconds pass, visibly relishing in Keane's panicked voice.

"You know she has to die," he tells him. "She's an Abbott. The job won't be done until all the Abbotts are gone."

There's something about the way he accentuates the last sentence, in a weird singsong voice, somewhat ridiculing it. It sounds more like he's making fun of the whole kill-all-the-Abbotts idea than actually believing in it.

"She's not going to die," Keane insists, seemingly ignoring the tone of his buddy. "She was never on the list."

Tom nods. "I know that. But you know the boss would disagree."

"Woulddisagree?" Keane probes. "Didn't you already tell him? I thought you'd send them my way."

Tom lets out a deep sigh, shaking his head as an apologetic smile spreads across his face.

"I lied, okay?" he says. "Fuck, Keane, I had no idea where you were. I still don't. I did find out about her after you gave me that little of information about the redwood forest in Northern California. That place up there, the secret niece that was shoved away because she brought shame on the family. It's easy once you know what you're looking for. And I knew right away that she must be the girl you took that night. But I had no idea why you took here or where."

A crease appears between Keane's eyebrows as he listens to Tom's explanation.

"I bribed the little doctor dude at the medic safe house," he continues. "But even he couldn't tell me where you took off to. And believe me, I tried everything to make him speak..."

His voice breaks off, and he shakes his head in despair. "Fuck, man. Why'd you take off like that? You should've talked to me!"

Keane sighs, looking defeated. "I didn't know if I could trust you. You know the Covey—"

"Yes, I do fucking know!" Tom cuts him off. "Those assholes didn't care one fuck about Jered! He dropped dead that night, died on a mission, and me and Brad were the only ones who cared! He had no family, none of us do. All he had was the Covey, and what did they fucking do for him? Nothing! Boss didn't even want to give him a proper funeral."

"Shit," Keane hisses, pinching the bridge of his nose as he lowers his gaze, his head shaking. "Fuck them."

"Damn straight, fuck them!" Tom yells. "That's why I'm fucking here, man—and that's why you're here."

He pauses, letting his words sink in and watch the understanding spread across Keane's face.

"To get out," he finishes. "I want out. And I know you do, too."

Keane bites his lips. I can see the uncertainty painted on his features, leaving dark shadows as he tries to make sense of Tom's words, trying to figure out whether he's telling the truth or not.

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