Chapter 19

NINETEEN

ELLIS

When we step out of the meeting room, the office is definitely busier than when we went in it about forty minutes ago. I have absolutely no idea how they’re planning to pull this off and question if we’re going to get caught and go to jail or possibly even prison. I mean… do they have a license to carry? But even if they do, surely they shouldn’t carry that many weapons? And what about me? Do you have to have some kind of permit to carry a taser?

I’m over here fretting every step of the way while the group of them just talk about where they want to go for lunch and strut right over to the door.

“I don’t know, man, that Korean barbeque is the place to go,” Cassel says as Leland knocks on the door. I realize that Cassel is fiddling with the doorknob as he does so, but in a way that doesn’t make it apparent what he’s doing.

“Act like you’re supposed to be here,” Tavish urges.

“I’m not an actor. I tried out for a play in high school and the director pulled me aside and said, ‘I love your enthusiasm so much that I think you’d be fantastic at pulling the curtains.’ The curtains! Like not even the chorus or hell, working on the set. My job was to pull the curtains.”

“Did you do it?” Tavish asks.

“Yes, I fucking did it, and I was fantastic at it, but that’s not the point.”

Tavish is grinning now. “Did you get to go out on stage at the end and bow with the rest of them?”

“I sure as fuck did, and my mom bought me this huge bouquet of flowers and told me how proud of me she was,” I say.

“Were you a little embarrassed?”

“Maybe. But then the lead role asked me out on a date, and I was floating high.”

“Oh yeah?” Tavish asks, eyebrows quirked. “Tell me about this lead role.”

I glance over at him as I realize that maybe he’s wanting to know their gender. But that’s ridiculous. Like the two of us couldn’t be more different. He’s like… an assassin or something, and I’m like… boring ol’ Ellis. I’ve never even snuck a drink into the movie theater out of fear someone will catch me, I’m so boring. And he’s… not . He’s handsome and adventurous and slightly illegal in everything he does.

“Well, as the lead they were very talented,” I say, teasing him… even though I know this is ridiculous.

“Yeah? What else?”

“Definitely sweet.”

“Yeah? What’d they look like?”

“Tall, short hair, eyes. I’m pretty sure they had two of them.”

“Their name?”

“Alex.”

“Short for?”

“Alex, I believe.”

Yet why am I toying with him? Why am I playing with this temptation that I really don’t need? This man is definitely not someone to be tempted by.

“Oh, he wants us to come in,” Cassel says as he pushes the door open and heads inside. I’m following Tavish, so I don’t quite get to see what’s happening when Tavish goes, “Huh.”

“That’s a bit awkward,” Leland says.

What’s awkward? Do I even want to know?

“Close the door,” Cassel orders, and I shut it behind me before peeking around them all to see what is so “awkward” and “huh” worthy.

“Holy fuck,” I hiss as I stare at the absolutely dead man sitting in the chair behind the desk.

“Shhhh,” Tavish says as he cups a hand over my mouth.

A man, who I assume is Nate, is currently seated at his desk, lifeless eyes tearing right into me. He’s slumped in his chair, blood coating the front half of his shirt. No wonder he never showed up, the man was already dead! Did someone kill him last night and then, because he usually doesn’t come in until later, no one found him? It’s no surprise they thought he was still at home!

“We need to get out of here,” I hiss.

“No can do,” Cassel says.

“If we’re just chilling in here with the door closed, they’ll think we did it,” I protest.

The room smells of blood and it’s making my stomach turn over. I mean… I saw Tavish shoot people, but it was kind of like an “I’m sure a Band-Aid will fix that” kind of thing. Okay… maybe if I think hard enough about it, I’d be super aware that a Band-Aid would do no such thing… but this… this guy is dead, dead. Like there’s no way I could trick my mind into thinking otherwise.

Cassel simply hands Leland his bag. “Hold, please,” he says as he pulls out some gloves, which he pulls on, then looks at the bloody floor and takes some booties out like he was prepared for this to happen. And just like that, he heads right into the crime scene. He’s careful, of course, but I’m positive being like two miles from the crime is still not far enough.

“The keyboard is bloody as fuck and doesn’t seem to be working. Tavish, can you snatch me a keyboard from somewhere? I want to see what I can find on this computer.”

“You didn’t bring one in this bag that weighs twenty million pounds?” Leland asks.

“I took it out so I could fit my superior personality into it.”

Tavish announces, “I’m going. Come on, Ellis, you look like you’re either going to vomit or pass out, neither of which we need. You can go back to the meeting room and let us know if anyone comes. Tell them we went out for a cigarette break while waiting.”

“Y-Yeah,” I say as I quickly scurry out of the room as soon as he makes sure the coast is clear.

Tavish waves toward the hallway. “Go back to the meeting room there. I’m going to grab a keyboard for them, and then I’ll come sit with you.”

“Yeah… go to the keyboard. Got it.”

“No, go to the meeting room.”

“That’s what I said,” I say as I hurry that way. I feel like I can’t get the stench out of my nose. I’m going to see that jagged line on the man’s throat every time I close my eyes. All I can think about is the way someone must have slit his neck. The way his mouth was open. Was he trying to find a breath that would never come to him? Was he screaming?

Fuck…

I put my hand on the door to the meeting room when I glance up and see the back of someone heading down the hall.

There’s something weirdly familiar about them, but also weirdly not. It’s like my brain wants to tell me I know this person, but I have no idea why.

It’s not someone from the island, right? Do they know we’re here?

If they do, I need to tell the others?—

He turns his head just a bit, and I get the briefest glimpse of familiar features before he turns away. He didn’t turn enough to look at me… did he even notice me? Did he realize it was me standing here?

NO… I’m making shit up. I’m seeing things. I’m traumatized from everything going on. That’s what this is. Trauma.

But what if it’s not? What if that man… what if that’s really my father? And what if he’s about to slip away from between my fingers again ?

What if I’ve finally found him after twelve years, and I choose to ignore it because I’m uncertain? I mean… what’s the worst thing that can happen? It’s not him and I have to awkwardly explain to some random man why I was yelling “Dad!” and chasing after him? Yeah, the awkwardness would haunt me for at least ten years, but it’s better than not knowing.

I really should tell the others, but the man is slipping through the doorway into the stairwell, and I can’t run back to them without losing sight of him. I’ll just… see if it’s him, tell him to wait, and call the others. It’ll be fine.

I push through the door into the stairwell, but my moment of indecision has already made me lose him. A weird ball of anxiety bubbles up in my stomach as I rush down the stairs, running down them as fast as I can. They’re built so you can’t look down the stairwell, so what if he slips out on a different floor? What if it’s not even him and he really is dead like I’ve started to believe as the years passed?

I’m taking the steps as quickly as I can, eager to see even a hint of him, when a door opens and I plow right into a man. He drops the papers he’s holding, and I instinctively drop down to help him grab them. “I’m so sorry. I’m really sorry!”

“What the hell are you doing running on the stairs?” he asks.

I cram what papers I’ve collected into his hands, knowing if I spend any more time, the man who might be my father will just get farther from me. “I have to… emergency,” I choke out. Then I continue to rush down the stairs. Why did I even stop to help? I should have just been rude and spewed my bit about it being an emergency and hurried on my way.

And why the hell did we have to be eight floors up?

I quickly pull out the phone Leland gave me to let Tavish or someone know, but when I open up the contacts, I realize that the only person programed in it is some guy named Tucker. I don’t know who that is, and knowing this group, it’s probably like some speed-dial hitman. I tuck the phone back in my pocket, hoping they have the number and can call me if they need me.

“Dad!” I yell. If it’s not him, he just won’t answer, right? He won’t stop. Hell, he probably can’t even hear me, or if he does, he’ll never imagine that it’s me calling him. It’s been twelve years. Would he even recognize my voice anymore? How much have I changed?

My foot slips and I nearly fall but catch myself.

Why am I panicking? I’m panicking.

Regaining my footing, I hurry down the final flight of stairs… how the hell haven’t I caught up with him? I’ve been rushing down the stairs with almost no hesitation. Did he stop on one of the floors? Did I miss him going through a door? Or was he running from something as well? Or… did he actually see me and was running from me?

Heart pounding hard in my chest, I dash through the door into the lobby area and see his back as he reaches the outer door. The receptionist looks over at me as I run after him. “Wait!” I yell, but he passes through the door and out into the street. I rush through and see him racing across the street.

“Dad, wait!” I yell, and still nothing. “DAD!”

I see the briefest hesitation before he turns and looks back at me. He stumbles to a stop and there’s no doubt now that this is him. That this is the man I looked up to. The man I wanted to be like when I grew up.

And the man who really isn’t dead… and if he isn’t dead?—

“Shawn?” he asks. “Shawn… I have to go. I have to go.”

“Dad, no! Wait!” I run across the street as he reaches an SUV that doesn’t seem to be parked legally. I grab his arm, forcing him to look at me. I want to tell him everything I’m feeling. I want him to understand everything I’ve gone through these past twelve years never knowing if he was dead or alive, yet all I can get out is, “What the fuck? What the fuck?”

Dad anxiously looks around before trying to twist out of my grip, but he can’t. Did he forget I’m not that kid he left behind? That I’m a grown man now?

He starts prying my fingers off. “Shawn, you can’t be seen with me. If they know you’re my son… Shawn, you have to go. You can’t be seen with me. I don’t know what the hell you’re doing here, but you have to go.”

“You think they don’t already fucking know I’m your son?” I ask. “I have been abducted, beaten, threatened, taken to a fucking island of hell, and thrown out of a goddamn airplane. You can look at my fucking face and tell that they know I’m your son. I think I deserve some answers.”

Dad stops and maybe he finally gets a look at my black and blue busted-up face. Then he anxiously looks back at the building. “I have to go, Shawn. I have to go. I’m sorry. Go to the police. They’ll keep you safe.”

“Then I’m going with you,” I say.

“No, please, just go somewhere safe.”

He gets into the car and I’m afraid that if I rush around to the passenger seat, he’ll take off, so I slip into the back seat of the SUV.

“Shawn, come on. Please.”

“I’m not leaving. I’m not going anywhere until you tell me everything. I deserve answers, dammit.”

I feel so flustered. I feel like crying, and it’s so fucking stupid. Do I even want to be in this goddamn car? If he’s been alive for these past twelve years, does that mean he’s just chosen not to ever reach out to us? To never tell us that he was alive?

“You could have told us you were alive,” I yell. I’m nearly shaking, and my emotions are all over the fucking place.

“I didn’t want any of you to be at risk,” Dad says.

“You could have sent a fucking… postcard. You could have done something .”

Dad pulls out onto the street since it’s clear I’m not getting out. But I feel weirdly vulnerable. Like… I shouldn’t have left the others. It’s not like I really even know them… but do I even know my father anymore?

Why am I panicking? I’m not good at this shit. I’m not some action hero who swoops in and knows what to do and?—

“Fucking hell!” Dad yells as he slams on the brakes to avoid hitting Tavish who just leaps out in front of the SUV.

He raps on the window and mimes some stuff before hurrying to the door. Dad starts accelerating, likely thinking he’s some assassin come to murder him. I quickly reach over for the unlock button but Dad, seeing what I’m doing, begins hitting buttons to relock the door. Somehow in his panic, he ends up rolling down the back window instead.

“Not quite what I was thinking!” Tavish yells as he throws his upper half through the window while Dad guns it.

“Dad! Stop, this guy is helping me.” I scramble to grab Tavish to keep him from falling out of the moving vehicle he’s halfway inside.

“I saw him working with them!” Dad shouts as he tries rolling up the back window but starts rolling the passenger side down instead.

“This must be your father,” Tavish says as he squirms a bit. “I think I’m stuck.”

Desperately, I start pulling him, but he does indeed seem to be stuck on something.

“Shawn, push him out! He’s working for them.”

“I know he was. It’s a whole thing, but now he’s not! Dad, please believe me!”

“I think my machete is stuck,” Tavish says as he wiggles this way and that, ass still stuck out the window while my dad panic-drives through the city.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have brought a fucking machete!” I brace my feet as I pull for all I’m worth, afraid he’s going to fall out and get hit by another car. “Tavish, stop kicking so much! Someone’s going to hit you!”

“I’m a motherfucking bear. I would hit them,” he says as I reach through the window and grab him by the back of his pants so I can tug him.

“Fucking hell, why are you trying to split my balls with my underwear?”

“Because you brought a freaking machete! Can you release it?”

“Ow. My balls! My balls!”

“Would you rather have bruised balls or no fucking legs? Dad, stop the damn car!”

“He’s lying to you!” Dad yells as I pat along Tavish’s side until I find the machete that’s wedged against the handle. I tug against it, hoping to free it.

“He’s not fucking lying! You’re the liar! You were supposed to be my father, and instead, you just went off and fucking pretended to be dead for twelve years! Now stop the goddamn car!”

He slams on the brakes, probably thinking that’d get rid of Tavish, but instead, Tavish comes oozing into the SUV, melting onto the floor of the vehicle as the machete is whipped out of my hand and flies off onto the road.

“Oh, my balls are safe,” Tavish says as he gives me a thumbs-up. “So is this how normal people meet the parents?”

“You two are dating?” Dad asks, nearly murdering us so he can crane his neck around to see. “He’s tricking you! Shawn, dammit, this man is not who he says he is.”

I open my mouth to tell him we’re not dating before tossing out, “Maybe if you’d been in my life at any point, you could tell me who I can and can’t date, but you haven’t. We are madly in love, and you don’t get a damn say in it.”

“You’re right. But you act like I chose not to be in your life,” Dad says. “I sacrificed everything to keep you guys safe. You think I’d choose to leave the people I love behind?”

The fight leaves my body as the words sink in. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I know you wouldn’t. I’m just… tired, scared, angry… I don’t know.”

Dad reaches back and squeezes my leg. “I’m sorry. I really am.”

Tavish rights himself in the seat next to me.

“I really thought I was doing what was best for all of you. I swear, I really was,” Dad says. “Maybe it doesn’t feel that way… but I promise you.”

“So what exactly did you see or do that forced you to run?” Tavish asks.

Dad glances at him in the rearview mirror. “Shawn, I don’t know that you can trust this man. He’s working for Arthur.”

“I know he was, but it was a contract job, and he was misled into believing I was the guy who murdered his daughter,” I say.

“I don’t feel comfortable talking in front of him. He could go and tell everything I say to Arthur. He could be telling him where we’re at right now.”

“I’ll plug my ears,” Tavish says curtly. And I realize how much more relaxed I am now that he’s with me. I shouldn’t need some… contract killer or whatever the hell he is to comfort me. Shouldn’t seeing my dad be enough?

But everything feels weird, and I can’t help struggling to fight off the realization that right now, Tavish makes me feel more at ease than my own father.

Dad sighs, but his hands are wrapped so tightly around the steering wheel that his fingers are white. “This is a mess. This is such a damn mess.” He glances in the rearview mirror, catching my eyes. “God, you’ve grown so much.”

“Yeah… damn near half of my life has been without you,” I say.

“I know, kiddo.”

“What were you doing there at one of Arthur’s companies? If you’re running from them, why were you there?” I ask.

“Arthur told me to meet Nate to speak to him. It was somewhere with people where I’d be safe, and we’d figure things out… but when I showed up… he was already dead. I knew I needed to get out. I knew I wasn’t safe.”

“The door was locked when we walked up, so how’d you know he was dead?” Tavish asks.

“I saw the body when you guys opened the door.”

“So you saw me and still ran?” I question.

“No, I didn’t see you. I mean, yeah, I saw your back, but… I didn’t recognize you,” he says. “I knew it was a warning to me. It was a fucking warning.”

“Why would Arthur kill one of his own men to warn you?” Tavish asks.

“It wasn’t Arthur who did it… at least, I don’t think it was. No, it wouldn’t make sense for him to kill his own man. Fuck if I know. Someone else did it and is trying to frame me. They’re going to have footage of me in the building or something and pin it on me. But I never went into that room. I never… I would never kill someone like that.”

“Not even to get to go back to your normal life?” Tavish asks.

“I’m not a killer. I don’t care what people think of me, but I’m not a killer,” Dad says.

Tavish hums thoughtfully. “The man was recently killed, oh… within the last thirty minutes. I didn’t have enough time to fully check before I saw Ellis darting down the stairs. Kind of odd that whoever wanted him dead didn’t wait for you both to be in the room.”

“You can’t possibly think I killed him?” Dad asks in disbelief. “And if you claim he died thirty minutes ago, why the fuck would I have hung around?”

“Whoever did it had to have ended up bloody. They weren’t careful about it, so they likely had to go change out of whatever they were wearing to get back downstairs. That shirt you’re wearing doesn’t look like it fits you properly. Maybe you snagged it from someone else?”

Dad couldn’t have killed him, right? Dad was a detective. He was one of the good guys. He… didn’t do shit like this.

Dad shakes his head in disbelief. “Shawn, he’s putting shit in your head. It’s what Arthur does. He manipulates you, makes you think you can rely on him, and then fucks you over,” he says. “I don’t trust him, and I don’t think you should either.”

I’m just tired. I don’t know what to do or say, but what I do know is that I trust Tavish… I think. I mean, yeah, maybe I’m a gullible man, maybe our meet-cute was him slamming my head into a dumpster, and maybe I’m letting this idea that he’s handsome and nice get the better of me, but I don’t think he’s a bad guy.

“I just… really don’t think you should be dating,” Dad ends with, and I almost choke, having forgotten all about that in the mere minutes that have passed since it was tossed out there. It’s almost a bit awkward to now go, “Just kidding.”

“I know we’re having a blast talking about who to trust and when and how and all that jazz, but we’re being followed,” Tavish says.

Dad’s head snaps back to look before he guns it, flying right through a red light that nearly gets us killed as a car lays on its horn. My heart is beating out of my chest as I realize how close we’d just gotten to being killed.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Dad chants.

Tavish is also so shocked he seems to be at a momentary loss for words. Then he says, “What the fuck are you doing? You’ve made it quite clear that you know they’re following! Why would you give yourself away like that? You’re pretty bad at this, you know?”

Dad is in a panic. “I can’t let them catch me. I can’t let them!”

“Head out of the city before you kill someone by driving so erratically!” Tavish pulls his gun out as he starts rolling down the window.

“What are you doing?” Dad cries as he rolls up the window. The issue is that Tavish has half of his body out of it—the opposite half this time.

“I was going to fucking shoot them! Roll down the window! You’re trying to suffocate me! What the hell!”

He’s flailing now, his upper body outside the window that he can’t draw back in. Dad is panic driving and I’m wondering why I even got out of bed today.

“Ellis, I know that you’re cute enough that you don’t have to do anything, but it’d be really nice if you rolled down the window to free me,” Tavish pleads.

“You think I’m cute?” I ask.

“That’s what you got out of all of this?” Tavish asks.

“I don’t know! I also got that I’m probably going to die. And so being told I’m cute made me feel a little better! I’m freaking out inside,” I admit as I reach for the window button, but his body’s in the way. “Spread your legs. I can’t reach it.” Then I hear an odd ping. “Did… DID WE JUST GET SHOT AT?”

“My god, why are you two panicking so much?” Tavish asks as he decides that if he’s in this position anyway, he might as well start shooting.

I just ram my hand between his legs as I try to find the button for the window.

“Why are you groping me? Not in front of your father, Ellis. At least wait until we get home!”

“I’m not groping you! I can’t find the damn button!” I cry as I smack the whole door panel before I find the button for the window and roll it down. Then Tavish slips back in, but since my hand is still on the window button, arm deep between his legs, he ends up sitting on me.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to smash you with my giant balls,” Tavish says. “Here, take my phone and call Leland.”

Ah, backup. Yes. Right. Perfect. More people will definitely fix this situation.

With the phone unlocked, I type in Leland’s name and realize it now says “Leland the Weasel,” but I’m rolling with it. I hit the speaker in case Tavish needs to say something of value to him.

“Hellllloooo, Tavish the Temperamental. This is Leland the Lavish.”

“What? No. It’s Ellis. There are people and they have guns and we’re going to die.”

“In the meeting room?” he asks, rightfully confused.

“NO! I saw my dad and chased him, and now we’re in a car and there are people shooting at me?—”

Tavish interrupts me. “Tell him I dropped my machete! Tell him to grab my machete!”

“I think we have bigger things to worry about than a machete!”

“Did you say… car chase?” Leland whispers.

“He motherfucking did,” Tavish says.

“You fuckers went out on a car chase and left me here with a boring dead body?”

“I’m more than positive that this wasn’t planned!” I protest.

“It’s fine,” Tavish says. “I have it mostly handled… Ellis, swap places with your father. He’s panicking too much.”

“And you think I’m not panicking?” I ask, very uncertain how he came to that conclusion.

“No, I got this, don’t distract me,” Dad says. “I have this one hundred percent under control?—”

And that’s the moment a vehicle slams right into the side of this one. The car is shoved off the road, hitting the ditch before I’m flung forward into the seat in front of me before the seat belt I’d slithered half out of to help Tavish snaps me to a halt.

The world twists around me. My vision turns dark and then suddenly, I’m being dragged out of the car. Someone has their hands wrapped around my wrist, pulling and tugging me. I don’t understand what’s happening or why. All I know is that as my vision clears, the person standing over me is neither my father nor Tavish.

Are they caught in the car? Are they okay? Tavish didn’t have his seat belt on, did he? Did my father? What if something’s happened to them? I need to get to them. Will the car catch on fire like they do in the movies? I need to get them out before they do.

I try to twist, and when I do, I see that my father isn’t trapped in the car, he’s about fifteen or so feet from me. How the hell did he get so far away?

“Keep running, Zachary, and I’ll put a bullet in your son’s head unless you turn back around and come here,” the man calls.

“You’ll shoot us both,” Dad retorts. “You’ll shoot us both.”

“You know I won’t. We need you, Zachary. So stop this nonsense. Get back here and I’ll let your son trot on free.”

“You’ll kill us both,” Dad repeats. It seems to be the only thing he knows how to say.

And I watch in disbelief as my father turns from me.

“Ha, what a fucking laugh,” the guy says. “You think he’ll stop if I shoot you in the leg? Maybe he’s not sure how serious I am.”

I’m not sure anyone could mistake how serious he is. “No, no, please. I don’t know anything about this. I don’t even know what’s happening. I haven’t seen him in twelve years.”

“You want me to shoot him instead?” he says, and I know if he could, he’d have already done it, but I still slowly shake my head.

“No, please… I don’t want anyone to be hurt.”

“How fucking sad. You’d defend that man after he left you? I almost feel guilty shooting you. Almost .”

Suddenly, I hear a noise before someone slams right into the man. I realize it’s Tavish who is practically riding the man to the ground. He slams his fist into the man’s face with enough force that the man’s head is snapped backward and then he just keeps whaling on him. Blood is spraying out as the man’s head is slammed back again.

“Get up and run,” Tavish yells.

I get up, but how the hell can I run? He’s over here protecting me, saving my life; there’s no way I could just leave him. But… I’m also not sure what help I am here. The man throws Tavish off him before lifting his gun as I scramble for the taser that Tavish had tucked into my pants. Tavish and the man are brawling as I hold the taser gun with unsteady hands. I’m shaking so much that I have no fucking idea how to steady it.

Stop panicking. Stop panicking. For fuck’s sake, stop panicking!

Tavish jerks back and I fire, not expecting that he’d gone back just to throw himself forward again.

Tavish yelps.

“Did I miss you?”

“Aye! You nearly got me in the bawbag! You might be cute, but there’s only so much cuteness gets you!”

“S-Sorry! I don’t know what the fuck a bawbag is, but it sounds serious,” I say as I watch the guy spasm before hitting the ground. It looks horrific. It looks almost as bad as the guy’s finger being shot. What am I going to do next? “Tavish, am I becoming a bad person? I think I’m being a bad person! I keep having to hurt people and I don’t like it!”

Tavish tackles me so fucking hard to the ground that I’m not expecting it. I lose my grip on the taser as something flies over his head. Then he wraps an arm around me and just starts dragging me, and all the while I’m just lying there confused, slightly terrified, and more than a little upset.

“My father left me,” I say.

“We have much bigger things to worry about,” he responds as he shoves me down into the ditch where the SUV is. “Get under the car.”

“What if the car blows up?”

“It’s not going to blow up! Get under it.”

He peeks around the bumper and starts shooting the gun he acquired from the man I tased as I quickly crawl under the SUV sitting at a precarious angle, one tire up in the air.

Now I’m worried about it falling down and crushing me, but Tavish… oddly enough, hasn’t steered me wrong yet. I mean… sure, he’s done some extremely sketchy things, but so far, he has kept me alive.

Tavish fires off another shot before moving up the slope.

“Where are you going?” I ask.

“My gun’s in the car. I need it.”

“Don’t leave me,” I plead.

“I have to get it.”

“I-I’ll get it. You keep them back. I’ll get it,” I say, knowing that if he stops shooting to hunt around for the gun, they’ll just make their way over to us.

My heart is pounding in my chest as I squeeze out on the far side of the car and grab the handle, but the door is crushed in on this side and won’t open. I have to get up to the passenger door, which I pull open.

A bullet hits the windshield, and I watch with wide eyes as cracks rush down it.

I’m going to die. I’m going to die. I’m going to die.

“Tavish, I don’t want to die,” I say.

“I’m not going to let you die, El,” he assures me.

I’m not so confident that he can predict who’ll live or die, but I have little other option as I take a deep breath and push further.

Heart pounding out of my chest, I wiggle into the back seat and hunt around for the gun. I don’t see it anywhere, but who knows where it slid during the impact. Ducking down, I peek under the seat and see it at the far edge. As quickly as I can, I dig it out just before I see a face I don’t recognize creeping around the corner. Can Tavish even see him from this angle? What if he doesn’t have any ammo left? What if I just sit here and the man shoots him?

I lift the gun. I have a good view of his head from here. I just have to pull the trigger and then everyone will be safe. We’ll all be safe.

He must notice me and jerks back a little before realizing that if I was going to kill him, he’d already be dead.

I’ve fucked up. I’ve fucked up so damn bad. He smirks and lifts his gun a moment before Tavish slams the butt of his gun right into the man’s face, knocking teeth out and sending blood spraying.

He drives the man to the ground and then in one fluid movement he yanks open the door, gathers me in one arm, and pulls me out with ease. “I got ya. Stop fretting so much. I’m not going to make you murder anyone you don’t want to. I mean, if you wanna murder them, I’m fine with it. It’s definitely not a deal-breaker.”

“I… I don’t know if you’re joking or what’s happening right now.”

“I’m flirting,” he says.

“How the fuck can you flirt right now?”

“Is there a better time to flirt than when shooting a gun?” Tavish asks as he holds his hand out. I put my free hand in his and he holds it up and kisses the top of it. “As much as I’d love to hold your hand… do you think I could have the gun?”

“Oh my god,” I whisper as I realize he’d held his hand out for the gun . Why the fuck would I think he’d want to just like… hold my hand in the middle of people trying to murder us? I’m so wound up that I’m struggling to even get embarrassed, but I’m positive that I’ll add this to the things that haunt me. Quickly, I hand him the gun, which is much better in his hands than mine.

“Looks like we’ve pushed them back enough that we should be alright if the others get here. What the hell did they do? Stop for a damn snack or something?”

“I don’t know… but my dad literally left.”

“Join the dick dads party. Wait… that sounds a bit like a porno… hmm… The Dads are Dicks party. There’s definitely room for more,” he says. “Maybe it was better he left.”

My mind isn’t quite so sure about that, but what else am I going to say?

Suddenly, a car pulls onto the scene that I don’t recognize, and the window rolls down as Leland sticks his head out. “Get in the motherfucking car, you sweet motherfuckers.”

“Where the hell’s your car?” Tavish asks as he just starts hauling my ass toward it.

Cassel rolls his window down. “Weirdly, we hit someone’s machete just lying in the road and blew the absolute fuck out of the tire.”

“Then where’d you get this car?” I ask.

“Don’t worry about it,” Leland says. “Get in the car. There’s too much shit going on. The police are coming. We need to get our asses out of here.”

Tavish stuffs me into the back seat where Cassel sits, and Leland guns the car. He probably takes a good chunk of rubber off as he floors it.

Now that the car is on the move, I’m left fixating on the fact that my father just left me. And it wasn’t like he left me last time. He literally left me to save his own ass.