Yes, it was time.
Day touched Goldie’s cheek, mouthing silently, “Go. Now.”
Goldie seemed reluctant, but he nodded. “You come get me when you’re done. Then we’re going the fuck home.”
Day grinned.
Yes, home.
They were going to go home and see Twinkle and Purrcy and everything was going to be okay again.
Day watched Goldie head upstairs, and he looked down at his father’s corpse with a frown.
Don’t worry about me. There will be time for that later. You need to be ready for what’s coming.
Be the agent of God’s fury.
Become His wrath.
Go now, and make me proud, son.
21
GOLDIE
Of the many scenarios Goldie had considered for their escape, being shot was definitely never part of one.
He’d expected to see Jack and Lin die. He had accepted that was inevitable if he and Day wanted to leave this house alive. He knew Day was going to have to hurt them. With their lives on the line, Goldie would have done the same.
Maybe not as skillfully, but still.
As Goldie hurried upstairs, he reconsidered that being shot had always been a possibility.
After all, there were statistically many more potential situations that ended with him and Day being shot and dumped in a ditch than successfully fleeing their captors.
Being shot andsurviving—that was the truly unbelievable bit.
Goldie couldn’t believe the medallion had stopped the bullet. He’d heard stuff like this happening on the news, freak accidents like a child’s crucifix catching a stray bullet during a Fourth of July party or a woman’s gold chain blocking a ricocheted shot from a nearby shootout.
But this…
Actually saving Goldie’s life at such close range?
It was a miracle.
Goldie didn’t use that word lightly, and he didn’t have enough time to fully appreciate all of its ramifications.
Not to mention that talking Day into asking his dead father’s corpse for forgiveness had totally worked and turned him back into an elite merciless murder muffin again.
Holy fuck.
Goldie made up his mind that he and Day were going to have a long talk about all of this when they got out of here.
He turned when he reached the top of the stairs, and the door he found there led into a small bedroom. He assumed at first that it had to be a guest room because it was so empty, but then he saw a faded painting on the wall above the bed with Day’s name scribbled at the bottom.
It was a cluster of rudimentary trees, a big sun, and two vague figures kneeling in what was probably meant to be a depiction of prayer. Other than the small bed, there was no other furniture in the room except for a tall dresser. A large brass crucifix hung from the footboard of the bed, tied there with a red ribbon.
Goldie thought about dragging the dresser in front of the door, but he wasn’t sure if he could move it or if moving it would attract too much attention from whatever might be going on downstairs.
