His fight ceases instantly, and his body slumps.
I crack my neck and work out the kinks in my bruised and sore wrists from where the shackles dug in.
“You fucking killed him,” Briem chokes out, glancing from Chapman’s dead body to me and back. Surprise is written all over his face, almost as if he can’t believe his eyes. “He’s dead.”
Unbothered, I shrug. “Now you have a cover story.”
“A cover story?” He blinks at me.
“I attacked and killed your colleague before I knocked you out and left you unconscious at the side of the road.”
A beat passes, in which he stares at me in shock, a beat in which I wait for the shoe to drop.
It never does.
I launch myself at him, seize his gun, and pistol-whip him hard enough to knock him unconscious. His head connects with the window, out cold.
“Sorry about that.”
After tucking the gun away in the back of my jeans, I bend awkwardly over the seats while rooting through their pockets for the key to unlock my handcuffs. I finally locate it inside Chapman’s jacket, alongside a packet of mints.
I search through their wallets for money, my gaze darting to the windows to ensure the road is deserted. After shoving the cash into my back pocket, I push open the door.
Leaning forward again, I open the glove box and look for anything that I can use to write the information for the warehouse where Briem’s niece is currently tied to a chair, unharmed and terrified, but unharmed, nonetheless.
I knew the cops were closing in, and I needed an insurance policy—something to tie their hands. Without it, they would haul my ass back to prison, and I would lose Savannah.
I knew from the very first moment she sat down across from me and trembled like a leaf, that I’d do anything,anything, to keep her, even if that meant making sacrifices along the way.
What I didn’t realize was that those sacrifices would speed up our demise, and when the reality of who I am,whatI am, stared her in the face, she chose instead to hand me over to the cops.
I don’t know how to feel.
Betrayed?
Relieved?
A pen falls out, and I reach down between Briem’s ankles to retrieve it, careful not to bang my head on the dashboard.
Searching for a piece of paper proves unsuccessful, so I grab his arm, shove up his jacket, and uncap the pen with my teeth, writing down the address on the top of his arm.
In a few hours from now, he’ll wake up with a headache, cold and dazed after spending the night in his car. But with the location written on his arm, he can locate the girl and return her to her family.
Briem will be hailed a hero.
I exit the vehicle, armed with their weapons and money—a fugitive on the run once more. Another face on the FBI’s most wanted list.
58
SAVANNAH
6 months later
Time passes slowly. So slowly, the days blend into one. The night Robbie escaped the police and came to my rescue, only to disappear, feels so far away.
He’s been missing ever since, suspected to have fled the country.
It didn’t take long for the days to turn into weeks and for weeks to turn into months, countless nights where sleep eluded me while I waited, hoping for Robbie’s return.