HOURS HAD PASSED since they tossed her on the hard floor. The moments dripped by. She wished it was over already. The waiting was more painful than just being dead.
When they came, she wasn’t ready. Her body froze, her mind raced. Surely there was a way to freedom. They grabbed her sore body from the cold ground and yanked her to standing. Three in total—one on either side and a third following directly behind—as they led her out of the holding room and down a long, dim hallway.
At the end of the hallway was a door. It opened and light cascaded in, stinging Zoe’s eyes and causing her to blink. They pulled her into sunlight, exiting the building, the door shutting loudly behind them. The dirt was rough and rocky under her bare feet as they forced her to walk.
The wind nipped at her thin covering, the sun beaming down but providing little warmth. Her mind was swimming, her chest filling with panic as she imagined where they were taking her. Somewhere off the grid, where they could shoot her, bury her, and let her body rot in the ground without ever being discovered.
Or maybe it would be worse than a simple end? Maybe they would toss her in a deep hole and let her starve to death. Let her wither away in the elements. Let her be eaten alive by whatever creatures roamed the woods. Terror gripped her legs, and they stopped functioning.
So they dragged her until they came to the edge of a cliff, and she knew they were going to toss her off. They stood her at the edge, saying nothing. No last words, no instructions, just placed her there as she shivered, staring at the rocky ground a hundred feet below. She heard one of their weapons cock, and she tried to swallow the hard lump in her throat. For a moment she considered jumping. Would it be more painful to land alive or be shot in the back?
The gun exploded, and she braced for impact. Two clean shots. Pop, pop. She clenched her jaw, but nothing happened. A third shot. Pop. The sound echoed clean to the clear sky, but nothing impacted her body.
She dared to glance over her shoulder and saw that one man remained. His gun was raised; the other two lay on the ground. Dead. Zoe turned slowly, her whole body shaking, her mind stunned.
The man still standing lowered his weapon and yanked off the black mask that covered his face. McCoy stood before her, panting. Zoe opened her mouth in shock, but nothing came out. He took a step forward and she inched backward. The wind rocked her slightly, and she remembered she was close to a dangerous fall.
“It’s okay,” McCoy said, raising his hands in surrender. “Just be careful.”
She glanced backward and then stepped away from the edge, her heart bouncing up into her throat. She was trying to wrap her mind around what was happening. Had McCoy killed his fellow agents? Why? She wanted to ask but couldn’t seem to get her mouth to connect with her brain.
As if reading her mind, McCoy began. “I’m a friend, I’m trying to help. You’re safe,” he said. “I was working with Olivia, and I’ve been trying to stay connected to Lucy since she was killed.”
Zoe shook her head, still confused. Still unable to make words work with her tongue.
“There’s a group of us that agreed with Olivia on the inhumanity of what was happening when the orders came down from above. I hadn’t been with Grantham as long as some, but killing those kids . . .” McCoy lowered his hands slowly. “I wanted to help.”
“But you were working with Seeley,” Zoe said.
“In theory, you know. Keep your enemies close.”
“The barn raid?”
“I wasn’t privy to that information. Hammon made an executive decision without filling us in. I’m so sorry, Zoe, for what . . .” Again, he couldn’t finish, and she was glad he didn’t.
“I don’t believe you,” Zoe said. How could she, after she’d trusted Seeley and he’d turned her over to be electrocuted?
“I don’t blame you,” McCoy said, “and I’m not asking for trust.” He moved a few feet left, where a small boulder hid a black duffel. He yanked it out and tossed it at Zoe’s feet. “There’s some supplies, clothes, money, enough to get you far away from here. You should have resources enough to start over. A new identity would be good. If you need a contact—”
“What about Lucy?” Zoe asked.
“I’m working on that. Don’t worry, I’ll do everything I can to help her.”
She shook her head. “I’m not leaving without her.”
“Are you sure you understand—”
“They pumped me full of electricity the last few days. I understand.”
McCoy went silent. He shook his head. “I could use your help, but you should really think about what you’re doing. Because there will be no going back from here.”
“How could I go on with normal life after this?”
“Of all people, you could. You’ve overcome worse.”
So, everyone knew who she really was. Zoe took a deep breath and thought about what he was offering. A way out. A clean break. Wasn’t that what she wanted? To go back to a time before she’d been connected to this insanity? Lying on the floor of the prison cell, hadn’t she begged for the opportunity she was now being given? But she knew that wasn’t what she really longed for. All she wanted now was not to fail Lucy. She loved her.
She looked up from the black bag resting at her feet. “I can’t leave her.”
“Zoe—”
“I can’t fail her too.”
“It’ll probably get you killed.”
Zoe paused, letting his words sink in. Death was worth it. She nodded at McCoy and ignored the warning of danger she heard inside. “So there’s a plan?”
“Not a very good one,” McCoy said.
“How can I help?”
He exhaled. “We need help. And you’re not going to like who I have in mind.”
SEELEY UNLOCKED HIS apartment building’s lobby door. A large brown paper bag rested in the crook of his left arm as he pushed the door open and stepped in. The lobby had gotten a fresh coat of paint since he’d been here last—satin—and it shimmered as the sun shone through the glass entry.
He’d only spent a handful of nights in this apartment, even though he’d been renting it for over a year. Work kept him away, but it was a nice enough place for Cami to visit. The elevator was currently under repair, but Seeley preferred the stairs anyway. He crossed the small lobby to the stairwell door and pushed it open with his shoulder.
Two flights up, thirteen stairs in all, short and easy, and Seeley was walking down the hallway of blue doors. Number 215 was his, the last door on the left. After unlocking it, Seeley stepped inside the one-bedroom apartment and shut the door behind him.
He set the bag on the kitchen counter and flipped on the overhead light. The kitchen was bare, the fridge empty, which was the purpose of the paper bag. He’d stopped by the local supermarket on his way up the street to grab a few essentials. He’d unpack the bag, then call Cami. See if she wanted to come over. Or he’d go to her.
She’d been living with his mother, Dorothy, for the last couple years. Steph had tried to add Cami to her new family, but when the girl wouldn’t behave, she abandoned their child like she abandoned him. Cami wanted to live with him, but with his current job the court found him unfit to parent her full-time. You had to be present to do something like that, and he never was.
He had visitation rights, but it had been months since he’d seen his daughter. He couldn’t help but think she was better for it. And after everything that had happened lately, how was he supposed to look his little girl in the eye and hide the darkness that owned his soul? Maybe he would call her tomorrow, after he’d taken the time to get his mind right.
That was what he’d told himself yesterday. He just needed some time before he was ready. For Cami’s sake.
He yanked the items from the bag and started placing them on shelves in the refrigerator. Something creaked behind him, and without hesitation, Seeley yanked his gun from its place along the side of his belt and spun around, firearm lifted.
McCoy was standing there, just inside the front door, hands up.
Seeley cursed.
“Sorry,” McCoy said. “I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”
“What are you doing here? How did you get in?”
“Your landlord let me in. Amazing where an FBI badge can get you. How about you lower your weapon?”
“How about you tell me why you’re in my apartment?” Seeley fired back.
“We need to talk to you,” McCoy answered.
“We?”
Someone moved out from the shadows of the unlit living room, and Seeley nearly gasped. Zoe. Impossible.
She moved to stand just feet in front of Seeley’s lifted pistol, her eyes dark and set. Her short hair was tucked back, showing the fresh wounds on her face and collarbone. Her skin was pale, her eyes bloodshot, bottom lip cut across the center. And that was only what he could see, with her covered in jeans and a long-sleeve sweater. He didn’t want to imagine what other injuries hid elsewhere. Because then he’d have to take responsibility for putting all those marks and bruises on her skin.
“Well,” Zoe said, her voice tight and angry, “shoot me if you’re going to. Or would you rather I turn around so you can stab me in the back?”
Seeley slowly lowered his weapon but kept his finger on the trigger and his muscles ready for action. “What are you doing here?”
“Like I said,” McCoy said, stepping up to guard Zoe’s back, “we need to talk to you.”
“Alive?” Zoe finished.
He could feel the heat coming off her skin. She was restraining herself from ripping him apart. And he didn’t blame her. What he had done to her couldn’t be forgiven. No one had the capacity for that.
“McCoy saved me. He’s been working with Olivia all along.”
McCoy gave him a nervous grin. “Guess we’re just going to jump right in then.”
“What?” Seeley questioned.
“Apparently, not everyone that works for Grantham is the enemy,” Zoe cut in. “Just most.” She turned back to McCoy. “This is a waste of time. He is never going to help us.”
“Help with what?” Seeley asked.
“Rescuing Lucy,” McCoy said.
Seeley opened his mouth to respond and couldn’t think of anything to say.
McCoy jumped in and started filling in the gaps in Seeley’s mind. He explained how he’d been working with Olivia, then proceeded to tell Seeley everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. Seeley listened intently, never taking his finger off the trigger. Zoe had moved to the side, never taking her eyes off him. The weight of her stare was suffocating.
“I couldn’t go back in for her alone,” McCoy continued.
“Have you lost your mind, McCoy? They’ll string you up for this,” Seeley said.
“Only if I fail.”
“You can’t beat the system.”
“Not alone.”
Seeley shook his head. “Give me one good reason not to turn you in for treason.”
“Because they’re wrong, and you know it,” McCoy said. “You aren’t like the rest of them. Because you care.”
“I’m the worst among them,” Seeley hissed. “I don’t have the capacity to care.”
“Which is why they blacklisted you,” McCoy said.
“Wait, what?” Zoe said.
“They blacklisted me because I fired at soldiers.”
“You didn’t tell me he was blacklisted,” Zoe snapped at McCoy. “How is he even supposed to help us?”
“Seeley knows that place and those people better than anyone I know,” McCoy said. “And if anyone can get past a blacklist, it’s him.” Then to Seeley: “And you fired at soldiers because you wanted to protect Lucy and Zoe.”
“Protect us!” Zoe barked. “He did nothing when they found us.”
“It’s worse than that,” McCoy said. “He called them and told them where you were.”
Zoe didn’t even look at Seeley, and he was thankful for that. He wasn’t sure he could stand the anger and hurt that would be in her expression.
“I was doing—” Seeley started.
“Your job, but you broke protocol. You risked your career,” McCoy said. “And you can make up a thousand reasons why you did, but I know deep down it was because you care.”
“You have no idea of the darkness in me,” Seeley warned.
“Yes, I do,” McCoy said. “The same kind that’s in us all. You hide behind it because it allows you to build a wall that separates you from reality, but I spent time with you. I saw the way you treated Lucy, the way you looked at Zoe.”
Seeley glanced at the woman standing close and felt his cheeks redden.
“You’re good, using your darkness as an excuse not to face the fact that you want to do the right thing, because doing that is harder. But it doesn’t mean you don’t know what the right thing is.”
“You hardly know me, McCoy,” Seeley said.
“Maybe, but Olivia knew you well.”
The mention of her name sent a shiver across Seeley’s skin.
“She told me you would help. She believed in you, even after working with your darkness for years. Deep down she knew you were a good man and told me to appeal to that goodness you have forgotten.”
McCoy’s words brought Seeley back to the night Olivia was shot right in front of him. You’re a good man. Those had been some of her last words.
“You may be blacklisted, but you’re connected and have deep loyalties. People owe you favors,” McCoy said. “And Olivia said you would help. So I’m trusting a dead woman, because honestly we don’t have a lot of options.”
Seeley took it all in. “You’re wrong about me. She was wrong about me.”
“That’s what I told him,” Zoe said.
“No, I don’t believe that!” McCoy said. “You can do the right thing.”
“I don’t do the right thing, I do the job,” Seeley said.
“Even when you know it’s wrong?” McCoy asked.
The war that had been building reached its tipping point. The two sides of his mind rushed each other, shooting bullets across the divide.
He did care about Zoe. He wanted to deny it but couldn’t with her standing right there. She threatened the darkness he’d become so familiar with. That he’d befriended and fed for years. That side of him warned against the threat of believing he could be more than what the past had made him.
“I told you he’s the villain in this story,” Zoe said. “The woman he loved broke his heart, stole his goodness, and now he’s the bad guy. Right, Seeley? The guy who can’t help but choose his pain over being bigger than his past, even if it means an innocent girl dies.”
Anger flashed through Seeley’s chest. “That’s a lot of talk from the poor, abandoned little girl who can’t trust the world or anyone in it because Mommy hurt her pretty bad.”
Zoe took a step closer so she was nearly in his face. “Don’t you dare talk about me like you know me.”
“I do know you,” Seeley snarled.
The two stood nose to nose for a long moment, then Zoe turned and crossed to the living room. She returned a moment later with something in her hand and slammed it on the counter beside them. It was a photo of a little girl. His Cami.
“I know a thing or two about being the daughter of a villain,” she said. “I know about the pain it brings, the kind that won’t let you sleep. That haunts you even when you’re awake. That you can’t outrun or change.”
Seeley felt his heart tighten as her words drilled into his brain. What would doing the job get him? The question drifted through his mind. More pain and darkness? Didn’t he have enough?
His inner demons roared as the thought started to gain momentum.
“Don’t be the good guy for you,” Zoe said. “Be good for her. Because if you don’t help us, Lucy will die. And this little girl will have a villain for a father all her life. She deserves better than that, doesn’t she?”
Seeley kept his eyes focused on the sweet face smiling up at him from the photo. It was one of the few pictures he had, and the only one that mattered.
“I don’t know if I can be the good guy,” he said.
“There’s only one way to find out,” McCoy said.
Seeley took a deep breath and considered what they were asking. If they failed, they would all die. Lucy would die, and Cami wouldn’t have a father at all. Not that she had much of one now.
Maybe if he could do this, help them, he could redeem some of his darkness and be the father Cami deserved. Maybe Zoe was right. Could he be better for his daughter?
He looked up at Zoe and then at McCoy.
Only one way to find out.