Page 20 of Come For Me
Chapter Eight
Dain pushed himself to his feet. Cecil Derrick, smart guy that he was, jerked back. Not that Dain planned to hit him—he needed the guy to figure out what the hell was going on here, no matter how satisfying a punch might’ve been.
“Dain!” Livie didn’t wait for Cecil’s answer. She rushed to his side, her warm hands settling on his straining biceps as he worked the zip tie holding him bound. Seconds later, a light pop signaled his release.
“How did you…?”
Dain turned toward the voice—a young man, maybe twenty, propped against the far wall, his hands behind his back like everyone else. Dain held up a tiny blade for the kid to see. “Hidden pockets.” Flexing his sore wrists, he walked over to help the kid to his feet. “What’s your name?”
“John David.”
The kid turned so his back was to Dain. A quick swipe cut through the zip tie digging into his wrists. Dain handed over the blade. “Here, John David. Take care of everyone else, would you?” When the kid nodded, Dain raised his voice just enough to catch everyone’s attention. “People, once your wrists are free, I want you to stay seated with your hands behind your back, okay? No need to clue these guys in that we’ve got an advantage.”
Nods made the rounds. Dain left the kid to his task and turned to Livie. Her sigh of relief was echoed in his soul as he drew her to him. “I’m not hearing an answer, Derrick,” he growled over his wife’s head.
Cecil’s glance ping-ponged between him and Livie as if he wanted to come closer but was afraid of Dain. Smart man.
“Olivia.”
His wife’s head nudged his chin as she lifted it. “It’s Sylvie, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
The man’s breathless relief grated on Dain’s already taut nerves. “Explain.”
He knew who Sylvie was, of course. He hadn’t met Derrick’s family, but he’d helped Livie prep for fundraisers, cook food, anything to help Derrick and his wife, Noelle, get through their only child’s diagnosis. Some type of rare genetic disorder, if Dain remembered correctly. The little girl had been through two years of testing and treatments and medication, but last Dain had heard, she was doing well.
Livie’s boss kept his focus on her, his concentration fierce, as if the intensity alone would convince her. Of what? That he wasn’t to blame for this? That whatever deal he had with Kelly hadn’t gotten her coworker killed? Or maybe it was just that looking at Dain made him want to wet his pants. Honestly, Dain was okay with that. If he didn’t get an answer in the next five seconds, he might even use it to his advantage.
“Sylvie’s…she’s sick again.”
The sound that escaped Livie told Dain exactly how bad the news was.
“We found out a few weeks ago. The doctors say she needs another round of treatments.”
Livie straightened away from Dain. His arms ached at her absence. “Will it work?” she asked Derrick.
The man’s shrug, the defeat in his expression had Dain’s heart softening the slightest bit. Obviously things didn’t look good for Derrick’s daughter. “It might. But if she doesn’t go through the treatments, they…well, they said she’s only got a few weeks at most.”
Livie’s curse echoed the one in Dain’s head. His voice was rough as he asked, “How does that lead to Stan’s death and a roomful of hostages?”
Derrick’s gaze dropped to the floor then, almost as if he couldn’t bear the scrutiny. Good. Harsh as it seemed, Dain could work with guilt; amoral assholes like Kelly couldn’t be flip because they just didn’t care. Derrick cared, very much.
“I didn’t mean for this to happen. I promise, I didn’t mean to.”
“You borrowed the money from one of Kelly’s associates, didn’t you?” Dain asked.
Derrick nodded. “I’ve been borrowing from them for a few months now. I had no choice.”
“I thought you made arrangements with the hospital to pay—”
At Livie’s words, anger twisted the man’s haggard face. “Of course I did! I did everything they told me to do, but it wasn’t enough. We’re still paying thousands to the hospital every month. There’s barely enough money left to cover groceries, much less the mortgage. They’re foreclosing on the house, Olivia. On Noelle’s car. There’s just…nothing left. There’s no way to keep my daughter alive without money.” His words choked off. “My wife will not lose her daughter. I don’t care what it takes.”
“So you—”
“I found a way to get the money I needed, okay? Nothing wrong with that.”
No, there was nothing wrong with that. It was reasonable, normal. Your child was sick, so you found a way to pay for it, just like any good parent would do. Just like Dain would do.
