Reason with the attacker.
Fighting an individual should only be considered a last-resort method.
I move further back into the cage as he moves toward me.
Finally, my back presses against the chain link.
My hand feels around, searching for the hole I cut away for Cat to escape. Then I try to squeeze through it.
Al grabs my arm.
I finally find my voice and scream. “Mo!”
My body freaks out as he wrestles me around the cage. I jerk free and spin around, punching him the face. He lets go and grabs his nose as I sneak past him.
“You little...” Al lunges after me and grabs my hair, dragging me out of the cage and along the uneven ground. My legs bump into rocks and scrape in the dirt.
Mo yells in the background. “Grace! Where are you?”
“Here!”
Mo comes sliding around the side of the house. Gun in hand. He freezes and his face drops when he sees Al. I spot a flash of something cross his face. Something I don’t see on him often.
Fear.
This makes me freak out.
Al rolls me into his clutches and presses the large knife against my throat. “Boy, you shouldn’t play with your daddy’s guns.”
Mo does look a bit strange. A 17-year-old pointing a big gun at a grown man. Only Mo’s dead serious. He may be interning with Sweeney, but he also started the training. He’s a natural, and better than Al knows or gives him credit for. Mo has lost everything. He has nothing else to lose.
But me.
I whimper a little as Al presses the blade closer. It nicks my skin and warm blood drips onto my shirt. I’m going to pass out. Seeing blood is one thing, seeing my blood is something else.
“Grace?” When I meet his eyes, the look I saw pass over him is gone. Nothing but confidence. Reassurance. “It’s okay. I got this. Okay? Trust me.”
Al laughs and jerks me around. “You ain’t got nothing, boy. I’ve been waiting for this day for a long time. I ain’t gonna give up so easily this time. Now, drop your weapon and back up. Or I swear to God I’ll gut her this time. I won’t make the same mistake twice.”
Mo slowly lays down his weapon and reverses a few steps with both hands up. “Don’t you hurt her. I swear to God—”
“You are no position to tell me what to do. You’ve had nine months to find me and yet, nothing. So this is on you and your old buddy Sweeney.”
He pulls me toward Mo and keeps his vise grip around my neck and body. Like a boa constrictor on its prey, he doesn’t relax the slightest bit.
But if he does, I’m ready.
“Please let me go.”
“You don’t want her Al. She’s not worth your time. You want me—I’m the one that betrayed you. Broke your trust. I’m the one who rescued her father.”
Al breathes heavy in my ear. “No. You did piss me off. But this girl has taken too much from me. Caused me a lot of hassle. My business, my sister. Been eating damn beans for a year.”
“You brought all that on yourself,” Mo says.
Al growls. “She’s cost me a lot of money. She cost me a lot of heartache. Since day one.”
The whole time they talk, Dad’s face flashes through my mind. Al almost killed me once before. If it hadn’t been for Dad blocking Al’s bullet with his body, he’d still be alive today.
Dad died for me and I’m not going to let some dumb redneck get away with it.
I shift slightly to re-center my weight, but Al grips my neck tighter. He moves his lips against my ear. “Don’t even think about it, sweetheart.”
I relax and let him push open the cage door and drag me around the side of the house. This is not the time to fight. I’ll get my chance.
Mo walks behind us with his hands up. He’s not about to let me out of his sight. He tries to reason with Al the whole way. “Al, this will go a whole lot easier if you let her go.”
My feet drag along the ground. I make myself extra heavy, making Al’s movement harder.
He jerks me from side to side as he walks. One hand around my waist, the other hand still at my throat. “Already got a mountain load of charges. What’s one more?” He stops at the broken down porch and waves the knife at Mo. “Stop right there.”
Mo freezes. “What are you going to do, Al? There’s nowhere to go. Sweeney and his men will show up in five minutes. If you go inside, you’ll be trapped.”
Al drags me up the stairs, still pressing the sharp blade against my throat. It feels like hot steel against my skin. I’m almost afraid to swallow. This isn’t your average steak knife. This is a special hunting knife meant for serious damage.
I should know; I sold it to Al at Tommy’s place last year. Before everything happened.
Al stops and makes me open the door. He pauses and studies Mo. “If anyone comes inside—or even close to this house—I’ll gut her like a fish. You hear me? Her death will be on you.”
Mo grips my eyes with his.
He says everything in that one look.
I love you. Trust me. You will be okay.
My face says something very different. Something I’m afraid to say out loud. Something I’m scared to even contemplate.
My look says, goodbye.
I keep my eyes on Mo until Al slams the door behind us. He throws me down on the couch and bolts the door.
I sit up and look around. Uncle Bob was a potential guest on the Hoarder show. Boxes of crap are stacked from floor to ceiling. Narrow paths create tunnels through the house. The guy obviously was a nut. Good riddance.
Without turning around, Al says, “Move and I’ll kill yah.”
And I believe him.
I remain still as he hangs blankets over the windows and pulls furniture in front of the doors. He makes sure we are barricaded in the living room with no way for anyone to see inside. Let alone bust through. The mounds of trash don’t provide any escape routes either.
This man is not going down without a fight.
And unfortunately, I’m in the center of it with ringside seats.
I look at the ceiling, trying to take in a breath. Being used to the open space and fresh outdoor air makes it much harder to function in small, cramped spaces.
Breathe in. Out. In. Out.
Al fights his way into the kitchen. I hear the fridge door open. Shortly after, he returns with a beer and sits in the chair across from me. He pops off the top and takes a long drink.
“What are you going to do?”
He waves me off, frowning. “Let me think. I wasn’t expecting your boyfriend to show up.”
I try not to smile at Mo messing up Al’s plans, but I keep my reaction buried. “You can’t keep me here forever. How will you get out?”
Al stands and paces the room like the lions used to in their cage. He walks over to the front window and pulls back a sheet.
I lean forward and peek out.
A couple of black cars are outside, parked next to Mo’s Jeep.
The cavalry has arrived. Thank God. Now I need to keep Al calm until I can come up with a plan to escape this rat hole.
“Al, if you let me go. I promise I’ll distract them enough so you can get away.”
He scoffs. “Yeah right. Like you did for Katie?”
My hands tremble. He knows. I figured he might, but I’m not sure how much he knows. Sweeney did such a good job hiding some details of that night in the snow. The scene creeps back into my memory. I remember hearing the gunshot and thinking it was Birdee. Thank God it wasn’t. Katie took a shortcut.
The easy way out.
“I didn’t hurt her. She hurt herself.” Even though it’s true, Birdee and I still feel guilty. Especially Birdee since she was the one who watched Katie kill herself. The lady would have rather died than face the media in cuffs for sabotaging the Red Wolf Program just to protect her real estate deal.
“So they say.” Al continues pacing, scratching the back of his neck. “Never believe the media. They lie about anything.”
I attempt a gentler approach, though it makes me sick to pretend to care. “You loved her?”
He stares at me as if surprised I asked. “She was all I had.”
“I’m sorry,” I say as a feeling of disgust courses through my veins. This guy doesn’t deserve any sympathy from anyone, especially me. “I know how you feel. You killed my Dad.”
Al stops in his tracks. “No, you killed him. That bullet was meant for you.”
The familiar feeling of guilt resurrects in my chest. I’m glad he doesn’t check out my face, because I’m pretty sure I look like I’m going to cry. Which would only feed his crazy control issues even more.
He shrugs and paces again. Up and down the tiny passageways. “Good riddance anyway. He would have surely turned us in.”
Anger boils beneath the surface but I mask it with a nod. “You’re right. Listen, why don’t you let me go and we’ll call this thing even?”
Al chuckles. “I ain’t as dumb as you think.”
I want to say, are you as dumb as you look? But I refrain. No reason to fuel his fire. Right now, I need to butter this guy up until either I can get away, or until Mo can find a way inside.
I keep stalling. “How’d you find me? After all this time?”
He scratches the stubble on his face. “You were dumb enough to show your face on T.V. Lucky for me, I was watching that day. Saw the sign of this place and drove straight down. I figured I’d find you somehow. Had no idea you’d walk right into my open arms.”
Mo mentioned the protest too. That thing brought Mo down, but it also brought Al. Dumb, dumb, dumb. I could kick myself for getting involved that day. I should have stayed hiding behind that truck. It’s caused me nothing but trouble ever since.
And it may have cost Sadie and Dylan their lives.
I try to keep my voice soft and even. “So, what are you going to do now? If you let me go, maybe you can sneak out of here. Get away again.”
“Yeah, you’d like that huh? You want to know what I’m going to do?” Al walks over to and gets in my face. The smell of beer clings to his breath.
“First I’m going to kill you—the way you all killed my sister. Then I’m going to find a way out of here and walk out scot-free. I just need to wait for a few things to fall into place.”
The whole plan muddles in my brain.
My mind got stuck on the kill you part.