PART III
Chapter 21
“I want to commit the murder I was imprisoned for.”- J.K. Rowling
Magnolia
One. Two. Three. Breathe. Four. Five. Six. I suck in four more breaths and release them while trying to maintain a shred of composure. How idiotic was I to sleep with Cane the first time we see each other after everything that’s happened? Do I have no self-worth or control to say no and to attempt having some form of normal boundaries?
His hair is longer now, curled down around his neck and usually tucked behind his ears. It looks good. Better than before, really. He wears it well with his warm colored skin and caramel eyes. I wish he could understand. If I get rid of Ezra then he's free. I owe it to him. I need to give him the life that was taken from him. He doesn’t understand it. He still doesn’t understand my need for revenge. It’s as if the world slipped away when he appeared last week and no one else, no other circumstances existed anymore. I wanted to overlook the fact that Cane lied to me, that Bentley lied to me. But in the wake of the last twenty-four hours I don’t know who to trust.
Bentley knew that Cane was alive the whole time. How could he not tell me? How could he lie, saying I was his in to the Ash family when he’d be working with Cane? The betrayal and lies cut deep right now. Cane’s actions have left doubts in my mind that I can’t swallow and the betrayal cuts too deep. How could he not have ever told me that he was working with the ATF to get out? To get us away and free? All those years and he never said anything. The two of them have managed to tear my heart to pieces. Jimmy and Dave didn't even bother looking at me. How does someone do that knowing they're sending someone they know to die? The world is nothing but a cruel place full of deceit and pain.
I couldn’t find it in myself to sit and talk or listen to either one of them last night. If I’m honest, I’m still fuming at the betrayal. I glance down at Brock and use my shirt to wipe away the blood at his mouth.
“What the hell, girl? I didn’t know I had to ask permission to say hello.” He glares at Cane over my shoulder.
“Ignore him,” I snap. “And Bentley too for that matter.”
“Sounds like the boys are in trouble. I don’t envy y'all at all.” Brock laughs at the two of them.
“I thought your ‘guy for safe transport’ was also ATF,” Cane snarls at Bentley.
“Nope. But coulda been. He’s top notch security,” Bentley smiles.
“Hey, Mags,” Brock starts, “that one’s the fan who left you the hundred dollar tip.” He points at Cane. A shiver runs down my back thinking back to that night. He was watching, waiting and planning. My heart and brain war with each other. I shouldn’t trust him. I shouldn’t love him, but I do. Every last nerve in my body screams out for Cane. Everything is so complicated and confused right now. It’s been eating me alive.
“Figures,” I mumble while standing up and brushing the dirt from my knees. The air is sticky and thick today, much like my mood. I help Brock to his feet as best I can and shoot laser beams at the boys.
“I need a phone,” I bark, holding out my hand.
“Uh, what for?” Bentley asks calmly.
“None of your business,” I quip.
“Mags, you gotta know people are looking for us. Using phones is not smart right now,” Bentley says. My temper is flaring, surely a combination of being overly tired and pissed as hell at him.
“Well you gotta know that Aster White showing up in Beebe is not smart right now, and if I know my cousin she’s probably halfway to Arkansas already.”
“Why the hell would Aster be going to Arkansas?” Cane interjects, looking worried.
“Because it’s been eight days since we last talked. If I don't contact her twice a week she flips out!” I say, waving my hand in the air dismissively.
“Why?” he pushes.
“Because she almost drank herself dead,” Brock offers, crossing his arms over his chest and narrowing his eyes at me. I huff and scrunch up my face at him.
“What the hell is going on?” Cane asks. “How were you even in touch with Aster all this time?”
“Does it really matter?!” I squawk at him. “Someone just give me a damned phone.” Brock's hand shoots out, handing me his phone, which I snatch from him before stomping off from the group for a tiny bit of privacy. I dial her number and wait. Five rings in and I’m about to give up but finally she picks up.
“Aster?”
“GOD DAMMIT YOU STUPID ASSHOLE I AM GOING TO KICK YOUR ASS!” she shrieks into the phone. I pull it away from my ear and grin.
“God, I miss you,” I chuckle.
“No! I am so pissed and in the middle of nowhere on my way to hunt you down, you don't get to be funny right now!” she hisses at me.
“Where are you?” I ask.
“Arkansas. According to my GPS I’m an hour from my destination.”
“I’m not there,” I tell her.
“What?!”
“Aster, I need you to stop freaking out and listen quickly, I don’t have much time.” She huffs audibly into the receiver but stays silent. “I’m with the ATF. They are moving me to a secure location until they can locate Ezra. Cane is alive.”
“Wha-” she starts but I cut her off. “Just shut up. There is a spare key to the trailer around back under the tarp in the wheel well of the bike. Go inside, lock yourself in and don’t open the door for anyone. It’s safe in there, but, shit, stop for groceries, I’m pretty sure there’s nothing to eat.” I finish. Silence. “Aster?”
“Alive?” she whispers, shocked.
“Yes,” I release on a breath.
“Are you safe?”
“Yes,” I tell her.
“Are you lying?” she asks.
“No. Please. Get to the trailer and wait. I don’t know when I’ll get to call again but I will make sure someone comes for you.”
“One of these days you are going to tell me the whole truth. Do you understand?” she relents.
“I promise. And A?”
“Yeah?” she answers.
“I love you.”
“Shut up, you whore.” The line goes dead and I can’t help the smile that takes over my face. Now I just need to figure out how to get the hell away from my three overbearing bodyguards. There’s work to be done and time will only be on my side for so long. I turn back to the boys and shout, “So where are we going?”
*****
Just before cramming into the car with Brock, Cane had pulled me tightly to him and just held me. I’d stayed stiff and silent. No words passed between us but I knew what he was saying to me. I could feel the love rolling off of him. For the last hour of the car ride I’ve been kicking myself for at the very least, squeezing him back. Despite all my mixed feelings, love still wins out. I know deep down that I love him, but I’m still mad as hell at all the betrayal and lies.
We’ve been driving for two hours already and poor Brock looks like he wants to throw himself out of the car. “Whatsamatta?” I ask playfully. I am so grateful that I am riding alone with him. It seems that he’s one of the only people worth trusting these days, although I’ve been wrong before. But more than that, I’ve missed him. I missed Penny and Bentley too, but it seems making connections creates more and more heartache for me. Will I ever see Penny again? I have no idea what’s happening with this whole ATF safe house and no one feels like filling me in.
“Anyone ever told you how much you suck at singing?” he says, throwing a finger in his ear and shaking his eardrum clear. A deep laugh bubbles out of me.
“Yeah. Sorry. Should we play a game instead?”
“Damn, woman, can’t you just sit quietly and enjoy the views for a while?” he chides.
“Not really,” I admit. “I’ve been silent for so long.” I sigh.
“Fine, whatever, we’ll play a game.” He grins and pokes my side with his meaty finger.
“Okay, I spyyyyy, a liar,” I quip. He glances at me from the corner of his eye and shakes his head.
“Bentley?” he nods at the truck containing Cane and Bentley three cars up.
“Nope!” I chirp. Maybe if I play my cards right I can use Brock to secure my plan. I need to get to the trailer and I need to figure out why that backpack is so damn important.
“That other dude. Uh, Cane!” he tries again, grinning.
“Bingo!” I sing. “Your turn.”
“I spy something brown.”
I look around as he slows the car down slightly.
“You’re full of shit. There is nothing brown!” I complain craning my neck to look behind us.
“What the hell?” he complains as we slow even more. I plop back facing the right way to see what his issue is. The car in front of us keeps hitting his brakes. I can’t make out the truck anymore either.
“Pass him,” I say, feeling nervous. It’s probably nothing. I’m sure it’s nothing. I suck in three deep breaths to calm myself and focus on something else.
“Yeah, yeah, girl, I’m working on...” A sharp pain erupts in my side followed by a feeling of weightlessness. My head thrashes back and forth violently. The high-pitched sound of metal rubbing together and crunching fills the car. Glass shatters, exploding inward and cutting my face. The car rolls top over bottom three times that I can count before stopping upside down, suspending both Brock and me by our seatbelts.
“Brock...” I wheeze. I try to turn towards him but my neck refuses to cooperate.
“Brock....” I hear him groan but he doesn’t properly answer. The sound of glass being crushed under heavy boots refocuses my attention.
“Cane? Bentley?” I try and call out. My voice sounds feeble, though. I tilt my head to the left as much as possible to see out the gaping hole in the shattered windshield.
Ezra stands outside the car, squatting down to look inside the car. I recognize his stance, the tightness in his shoulders and the clinched jaw. It's time to call it or fold and I don't think folding is an option. I push the button at my hip and fall unceremoniously to the roof of the overturned car. I nudge Brock roughly but he doesn't move. Reaching a shaking finger to his neck I check for a pulse. Still alive. I try to position myself quietly so I can crawl into the remains of the back seat. I move one knee forward but am yanked on my belly sliding backward. Ezra drags me from the car through the remains of the windshield, little pieces of glass tearing at my stomach as I go. I scream in pain but kick and twist furiously as he tugs. He drops my legs when I’m on the pavement. The car is totaled. It’s the kind of wreck that makes you wonder how anyone could possibly survive. I gasp, hoping that Brock is truly okay and not bleeding out internally. My head hurts, it’s pounding and I can hear my own pulse in my ears. I scramble to my feet but only make it two steps before crumbling to the ground. I’m so dizzy. Ezra approaches and I swing blindly at his figure. My fear ruling my actions. I need to calm down. I need to focus. His arms slide under my armpits and he lifts me to my feet. “This doesn’t even seem like a fair fight,” he sneers. “And I’ve heard you were training for this moment for so long.” I want to do something, anything to hurt him but my body won't oblige.
“Fuck you,” I bark and spit at him. A bloody loogie lands at the corner of his mouth. He cringes, takes a step back from me and wipes it away. His hand rears back. I watch the motion, as I was trained to, stay present in my body and follow the hit. Before he lands his throw, I block it, step forward and hook my foot behind his. With all the strength I can muster I lunge forward. He doesn’t anticipate this and loses his balance as he sails backwards over my foot. His head makes a sick thwapping sound when it connects with the pavement but it doesn’t seem to deter him for long enough. I swing my leg back and kick him swiftly in the kidney, causing him to curl into himself. As I pull back to kick again he uncurls himself and raises a gun to me.
Time stands still. Everything slows down for me. One. Two. Three breaths. I reach down, tucking myself under his outstretched arms, and slip the heel of my hand to where his right thumb rests over the release and slam it hard into my other hand. He lets out a deep grunt when my back collides with his chest. The clip slides out, clattering to the ground beside us. I throw my elbow into the side of his head and roll off him. I push up to my feet and start to run. I’m only a few strides away when he tackles me down. My temple slams into the road, my vision turns hazy and no matter how hard I fight it my eyes flutter closed.