Dad closes his eyes for a second, then leans down and places his lips to my forehead, lingering for a moment. It’s a tender gesture I don’t remember him doing since I was a kid. He breathes in deeply as though inhaling my perfume, then he quickly steps back. He goes behind his desk and opens a drawer, taking something out.
Before I recognise what it is or have a chance to process what’s about to happen, he states, “Barclay can’t threaten a dead man.” He places the gun to his mouth and pulls the trigger.
A scream bursts out of my mouth. I take an automatic step forward before realising there’s no helping my dad. He’s slumped behind his desk. He might not be moving, but his blood is still trickling down, along with clumps of stuff I don’t want to think about staining the walls.
I’m glued to the spot, my brain having difficulty processing the scene in front of me and that he’s actually gone. I start to shake, and sobs rack my body as I sink to the floor, curling my knees and hugging my arms around them. Rocking back andforth, I try to make sense of what’s happened here today and wait for someone to find me, to help me.
Surely someone heard me scream? That gunshot would have been even louder.
I don’t know how long it is before I remember that it’s Sunday. Dad planned it this way for a reason. There’s no one coming to find me. Once again, he’s abandoned me to my fate.
I’m dazed and in shock. While I scrunch my eyes closed, I’m morbidly drawn to opening them, unable to resist looking again and again at the bloody mess that was my father’s body. I’ve never seen anyone deceased before. As a child, I was considered too young to view my mother after she’d passed.
Slowly, I realise while I’ve no idea what I should be doing, it has to be something. Putting out my hand, with the help of a chair, I get myself up on unsteady legs and begin to reach for the phone when my father’s last words suddenly slam into me.
Money in the safe. Keys to a car.
My brow tightens, and my eyes crease as understanding washes over me. He planned it! He’s given me a chance to escape and taken away the hold that Barclay had over me. Then, a more dire thought slams into my brain. Barclay now has no reason to keep me alive as his money cow is dead. If Dad’s plan doesn’t work, I’ll be worse off than I’ve ever been.
What have you done, Dad?All I want to do is to be able to rewind the last few minutes.
Why didn’t you talk to me? Why didn’t you explain?Then I realise, taking his life wasn’t something easy, and if he’d told me what he’d planned, I’d have tried to talk him out of it.
My father’s made many mistakes. Not knowing how to parent and squandering money that brought us to where we are today. Not understanding how cruel a man like Barclay could be. But in the end, however misguided, he’s made the ultimate sacrifice, and that’s a debt I can never repay, especially if Isquander the chance he’s given to me. I’ve no option but to get away.
Snap decision made, I go to the safe which is ajar with the contents on show just as he’d said. I take out the money, more cash than I’ve ever seen in my life, and stuff it into my purse. Then I withdraw the keys, searching in vain for a note I hope my father had left for me, some last words of affection or wisdom to see me on my way, but there’s nothing. He obviously had nothing more to say to me.
Surely I should hug my dad? Kiss him? I can’t bring myself to go near him. Anything that made him the man that he was seems to have deserted his body. I resort to standing over him and telling him, despite his faults, that I’ve always loved him. Knowing I can’t waste time, I force myself to turn and leave, unable to hope that it’s not long before someone finds him and that whoever he is treats him with dignity.
My hand shakes as I press the button on the service elevator that takes me straight to the deserted underground parking lot. There’s only one car other than my dad’s there. A pang of sadness goes through me as I remember he’ll never drive his again. Then, before I can break down, I click the fob, and the lights of the second car flash.
It’s a Ford Explorer, not a recent model or flashy. One like a million others on the road. It makes me wonder how much time Dad had spent planning this, and boosts my resolve not to let him down. Everything he’s done is wasted if Barclay finds me.
While time has seemed to slow, when I glance at my watch, only half an hour has passed since I entered the building. I probably have that much time again before my guards come searching for me.No time to waste.
I drive out of the parking garage and carefully exit onto the street, driving in the opposite direction to where my guards will be waiting. Following all the traffic laws so as to bring noattention, hands tightly gripping the steering wheel, I leave the city. I continue driving until the tank is nearly empty, top up, grab something to eat even though I don’t feel hungry, and then take to the road again.
The more miles I can put between Barclay and me, the happier I will be.
Katrina Aster, née James, must completely disappear and never be seen again.
I’ll do anything, absolutely anything, to ensure Barclay can never find me.
I won’t waste Dad’s legacy.
CHAPTER ONE
STRIDER
THREE YEARS LATER…
Placing a hard kick to his kidneys, I tell the man lying at my feet, “You’re just fuckin’ me off now. Tell me what you know about our missing product.” His agonised yelp, blubbering and bloody face, even coupled with hands held up to ward me off, does nothing to bring forth any sympathy.
“Make it easy on yourself,” my VP, Shotgun, growls from behind me.
“I… I… know nothing.” The words are punctuated with sobs. “You’ve got to believe me,” he cries. An acrid odour fills the air, and the darkening area around his crotch shows he’s just pissed himself.
Oh for fuck’s sake!I’ve had enough of this. Taking out my gun, I gift him with a bullet between the eyes.There. Job done. Now I don’t need to listen to his snivelling excuses anymore.