Chapter 24
“It’s important in life to conclude things properly. Only then can you let go.”- Yann Martel
“You know that spot?” I asked quietly as we laid in bed.
“This one?” he murmured back before kissing just below my ear.
“Mmmhmm...” I hummed.
“What about it?” he asked. His fingers moved slowly, but deliberately over my skin softly making my stomach feel like butterflies were taking flight.
“I think you’ve ruined that spot for anyone else. It’ll always be yours,” I babbled.
“It’ll always be mine because you’ll always be mine. Don’t you understand, Mags? With you I’m someone worth being.”
I wake up disoriented, confused and tearful. One. Two. Three. I open my eyes at ten and blow out the last deep breath. Cane. I wake up every day loving him. I sneak out of the bed so I don't wake Aster and prowl to the kitchen hoping I still have coffee to make. Bentley sits at the table, two to-go coffees sitting near him and one in his hand.
“Couldn't really sleep,” he shrugs.
“Yeah.”
“You don’t have to do this, you know. We could arrange to extract Cane for you,” he offers.
“He’d never give up the location that way. We don’t even know if Cane’s alive.” I shudder at the thought.
“Okay,” he laments, and slides a piece of paper toward me with a number on it and takes a swig of his coffee. I grab a coffee and a phone and move outdoors. My fingers shake as I try to dial the numbers. I hit send and wait. Ten rings and voicemail. I sigh, feeling relieved and let down all at once, and wait for the beep as I mentally rehearse what Bentley instructed before we crashed last night.
“I have the flash drive. Meet me alone at the intersection of Route 31 and 267 at four o’clock today. Bring Cane. No Cane, no flash drive.” I hang up and stuff the phone in my shorts pocket. It’s only seven a.m, I have no idea how I will get through the day.
*****
An ATF SWAT team shows up at the trailer at two p.m. to prepare me for the exchange. I’m wired, bulletproof-vested and equipped with a gun by three p.m. I can’t remember the last time I was manhandled this much. Men chatter on walkie-talkies that buzz and crackle. Everything seems odd, out of place. The neighbors stand on their steps and porches gawking without shame. Aster has been pacing nervously around the trailer for three hours and the motion is grating on my nerves.
“Please stop moving,” I snap at her.
“Why are you doing this?” she retorts angrily. “You really think Cane would want you to do this?”
“Aster, you’re scared. I get it, but please, I’ll be OK. Bentley and a whole team of monkeys who will be with me. Just stay here with the rest of them and be safe.” She trots over to me, tossing her arms tightly around my middle and squeezes. Hard.
“I can’t lose you,” she whispers in my ear before releasing me.
At three-thirty we pile into Bentley’s rental car and pull out, followed by the van full of ATF agents. The twenty minute ride seems like twenty hours. The backup team in the van hangs back, parked in some tree-covering off the side of the road, while Bentley and I pull up to the rest area stop which is really no more than a dirt clearing.
“Do me a favor, when you burn this bridge down, make sure I'm not on it. Those boys will be comin' in heavy. You might want to hang back and let 'em do their thing,” Bentley grumbles at me as a black sedan pulls up opposite us. I open the car door and stand lifting my hands near my shoulders.
“Ezra,” I bite out. My nerves are shot but just looking at him now fuels my rage and anger.
“Always a pleasure, Cypress,” he sneers, drinking in my body as I inch closer to him. “Do you have what I need?”
“Where’s Cane?” I crane my neck out to see past him into the car but find nothing.
“Give me the USB,” he growls.
“Not until I see Cane. That was the deal.” My voice is hard and sharp.
“The deal, my dear, has changed.” Ezra moves a hand behind him and I reach for my gun. It sounds like the Nile is rushing through my ears. Time slows down and my vision focuses in on his movements. He raises his gun to me as I do to him. Shit, now what?
“At your left,” Bentley growls. He has his gun on Ezra now. I watch, fascinated, as Ezra calculates his move and swings his gun to Bentley.
“Where is Cane?” I ask again calmly. He stays silent. “If I start counting down from ten, I may lose my patience at five. What’s it going to be?” I growl.
“I will reach down your fucking neck and pull your throat out through your mouth,” Bentley says ferociously. “Where is Cane?”
“Fate has a great fondness for moments like these, don't you think? You have a choice. Which one lives and which one dies? Not an easy choice when you care for both men. Whose life is worth saving? You have a chance at redemption with Cane or a relatively clean future with Bentley. Ahh, how the guilt must eat at you right now, Cypress. Two lives hanging in the balance and you playing God.”
“Bentley,” I say, trying to stay focused on my objective. “Put your gun down.”
“Like hell.”
“Do it,” I crow. I hear the gun land in the soft dirt with little noise. I lower my gun to the ground and take a step towards Ezra. “Where is Cane? He’s your nephew. Please just let me save him. Here!” I thrust my hand in my pocket and pull out the flash drive, holding it out towards him. But he doesn’t move towards me.
“Pick up your gun,” he growls. I take a step back and do as I’m told. “Good. Now point it at him.” He motions to Bentley. “You have a choice to make. You can kill him and save Cane, or save him and kill Cane.” I turn to Bentley and raise my gun. My hands shake so much that there is no way I’d be able to make a clear shot. I’d do anything not to kill Cane again, to be able to save him. My soul mate. My first love, my first everything. Ezra’s offer plays on all my emotions. Bentley looks at me with shock as I try to take aim. I love his face. I love that he forced me to come back to the world and live again. I can't pull the trigger. “I’m not like you!” I wail, turning back to Ezra.
“You’re not saving anyone this way,” he sneers. I watch as he points the gun at Bentley.
“Wait!” I scream, and he lowers his gun some. “Just wait.” I turn to Bentley and raise my pistol. “I’m sorry,” I mouth before pulling the trigger purposefully and shooting him in the leg. I swing back around immediately and fire at Ezra but only manage to clip him in the shoulder. It’s enough though. I sprint full force at him, tackling him to the ground. I fist his shirt, drawing him up to me and punch his face repeatedly. “Where is Cane?” I scream wildly. “I won’t stop until you tell me!” I repeat my process knowing I don't have much time before the van with backup arrives. A blow to the jaw, a blow to the temple, a blow to the bridge of his nose. Blood splatters me but I don’t care. It feels good hitting him.
“House...” he mumbles, so I stop and wait. “Southern point of Lake Saint Francis.” I pummel his face twice more for good measure before climbing off him and running to Bentley.
“I’m so sorry,” I sob at his handsome face. He says nothing but his eyes say he understands. I turn and jog to the car. He left the keys in it. I punch in Lake Saint Francis on the GPS and take off.
I reach the southernmost part of the lake an hour and a half later. There is only one house for miles. I slowly creep by to make sure I’m not going to be ambushed. Nothing. There are no lights on and only one car in the drive. I park down the road a bit and walk quietly up to the side of the house and peer in the windows. Nothing. The house is empty. I trot around to the front and check out the car from a distance but there are no people sitting it. Where is he? I push through the front door and into a kitchen. I flick the lights on and look around. I slow my breathing down and listen for noises. Faint mumbling. “Cane!” I scream and move towards the sound. At the back of the house is a three-season porch, and I stumble over something on the floor and fall flat on my face. I panic and scurry to the opposite wall. A pained groan filters through the air. I crawl towards it and reach above the lump on the floor to find the light switch.