Page 76 of Dangerous Command
Everything was silhouetted as we drove. The cars driving past. The buildings to the sides. The hills surrounding the city. Black and gray shapes disappearing into the night. I couldn’t concentrate. My chest was tight; I had to remind myself to breathe. We were safe now.Safe.
But were we safe? Muro was still alive, and Derek, he was—
He was—
Leave,he had shouted, because helping me was breaking him in two.
He had wanted this. He had commanded it.
So why couldn’t I let go?
My head pounded; the air conditioning fluttered onto my skin, making my cheeks sting. I ran a finger along my bottom lip; it was bloody and cracked. I didn’t know where we were going, but I had to drive. I had to leave. I couldn’t do anything, not until we were far away. Until I knew Mack was safe.
But this was wrong. I couldn’t swallow it down like before.
On the highway, the darkness consumed us. Mack sniffled. Muro wasn’t the kind of man who granted a swift death; he would make sure every second was accounted for, which would give Mack and I the chance to leave. To run away and never come back. By the time Muro was done with the Adlers, we would be able to escape this state, this country—to a place where Muro would never find us.
Derek had traded his own life for our safety. To not escape now would be wrong—a disservice to his sacrifice.
So why couldn’t I do it?
“Who was that man, Mom?”
That man.That’s all I wanted him to be to Mack. I bit my lip. I couldn’t tell him the truth. Not now
“No one, sweetie,” I said.
“He said he was my father.”
“He wasn’t.” ‘Sperm donor’ was a generous term for Muro, and ‘stepdad’ had been false praise when I was growing up. But telling Mack that Muro wasn’t his father was the one lie I didn’t feel guilty for telling. Because in some ways, it wasn’t a lie. Muro wasn’t the father to my child, and he never would be.
“What’s going to happen to Derek?” Mack asked.
I was both grateful that Mack was awake and alive and safe and that somehow, Muro hadn’t touched him at all. And it was a relief that Mack was alert enough to be able to ask meallof the questions, but at the same time, each question struck a chord inside of me, making me feel worse. What would happen to Derek? What was happening to himright now?
“I don’t know,” I said. I tightened my fist. I had an idea, and it wasn’t a good one.
“We should go back,” Mack said.
“We need to keep you safe.”
“But Derek is back there.”
“That’s not your concern.”
“That man is evil, Mom. You know that. He’ll probably—” Mack paused, not sure if he should finish the sentence, but he didn’t need to. I knew, very well, that Derek’s death would bring satisfaction to Muro. Muro had killed my mother, his own wife. He had murdered more people than I could count. He had raped and abused me until I ran away.
And I was running away now. Like I had wished my mother had done with me so many years ago. I had thought that if only she had run away, we could have been happy. We could have been free.
So why didn’t I feelfreenow?
“We have to stop him,” Mack said. “We can’t just let him go.”
Mack was far braver than I had ever been. He hadn’t gotten that from me. And I refused to believe that Muro had anything to do with his personality.
Had he gotten that bravery from his short time with Derek?
My stomach dropped, nausea crashing through me.
