Chapter Eighty-Seven

Mason ran as fast as his legs would carry him. The wind roared at his back, pushing him closer to his target. Close at his sides were the two young women who had saved his life. That was something he could never forget.

They were halfway along the hill when they saw the RV. Its engine spewed smoke into the air, but it was still grumbling. His old car—now Evie’s car—had crashed into its side. The front of the Explorer was folded up like a mattress. The door was open. Evie was climbing out, her legs unsteady as she reached for stability on the car door.

“Go and get her,” Mason said to the girls.

Kylie began to run in that direction. Amelia stayed nearby. Mason, fearing the worst for the collision that had just transpired, ran along the side of the RV. He had never felt the absence of his sidearm more than he did right now. There was nothing to protect him. Nothing to protect Diane or any of his family who had shown their faces tonight.

The passenger door widened with a croak. An arm revealed itself first, and Mason got ready to defend himself. When the second arm reached out, the person’s face revealed itself in the dim, dark of the night. Mason knew that face—he had woken up beside it more times than he could count. It was the face of an angel, and his heart bled to see her.

“Mason?” Diane said.

He rushed forward, catching her as she fought to slide out of the smashed-up RV. She fell into his chest with a whine of pain. Mason held her upright, holding her so tight he thought he’d never let her go. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine. I just smacked my knee in the crash.”

Before Mason could respond, a bloodcurdling scream sang out from the other side of the RV. It was like a siren, high and shrill. Mason felt a wave of heat burn up his skin as he told Diane to stay, then ran around the vehicle.

What he saw would haunt his dreams forever.

Marvin Wendell had slid out of the driver’s side. He was alive, a grim sneer contorting his features as he held Amelia close to him. He held the gun to her head, inching back little by little as if to plan an escape. Evie and Kylie remained at the Explorer, too scared to make a move. Mason didn’t blame them—the thought of another casualty made him quiver with fear.

“Stay back,” Wendell yelled. “Stay the hell back!”

“Easy there,” Mason said. He reached out with one hand, easing in closer and closer, trying to counter each movement his opponent made. “You’re outnumbered, pal. Why don’t you just drop the gun and wait for the police? It’s over.”

Wendell’s gun hand began to shake. He aimed it at Mason, then back at Amelia, whose lip trembled as he held her hostage. She was too young to see things like this. Even at twenty-one, she didn’t deserve to be in this situation. Not now, not ever.

“All right,” Mason said, panicking. “How about you let her go and take me instead? I won’t fight you. Nobody here will call the police on you. Just let the girl go, and you can do whatever you want with me.”

“How about I just shoot you right now?”

The gun turned on him. Gasps came from all around him: Evie, Kylie, and Diane. Time seemed to stand still as Mason waited to be shot. But Wendell only continued to back away, inching closer and closer into the wooded area behind him.

“You can’t,” Mason said. “That’s just not part of the deal.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“But I do. Think about it. If you shoot me and the girl, there are three other people here ready to rush you. If not that, then to call the police. Then I’ll be dead, and you’ll have nothing left to work toward. You’ll live the rest of your life knowing you could have given me a slow death. Don’t tell me that won’t niggle at you.”

A pause. Nothing but heavy breaths and thick tension. Mason watched, waited, as Wendell made the one decision that could drastically change tonight’s outcome. His hands were up in surrender. His heart beat like a drum.

“All right,” Wendell said. He shoved Amelia to one side and turned his aim to Mason. Slowly, he reached for the RV’s driver’s-side door and pulled it open, then motioned toward it. “Get in. You’re driving. And if you make one wrong move, you’re a dead man.”

Mason finally exhaled and did as he was told. Whatever happened next was fine by him—Diane and Amelia were both safe. Where he had failed to protect Amy and cost her her life, at least he could die knowing he had redeemed himself tonight. Even if just a little.

Now he could die satisfied.