Shane blinks at me, as if genuinely having forgotten our history together at the library, and then his face clears. “Oh, yeah. I was tying knots with everything I could get my hands on for weeks.”
I let out a sigh of relief, trying to cover it with a bright smile. “I think you showed me a few of them—wasn’t there one called the Hercules knot?”
Honestly, I don’t know what I’m doing, but I feel comforted by his relaxed posture, the grin that spreads over his face at the memory. “Oh yeah. That one took me like three days to get. I kept making a thief knot by mistake.”
I laugh along with him, like I have any idea what he’s talking about. “I should have paid more attention when you were explaining it to me. Would’ve come in handy now.”
Glancing up, I’m taken aback by the earnestness on Shane’s face as he meets my gaze. Unnerved, I feel the smile slipping from my face. “Shane?—?”
“Ishould have paid better attention, to you. Maybe then we wouldn’t be here now.” He gestures down to the gun in his hands. “It’s just…I had no idea how hot you were, you know? You always dressed so frumpy.”
So if Shane had known I was “hot,” he wouldn’t have taken the job from the mafia, tried to have me kidnapped in Mobile, or shown up here with a gun to take us all hostage? I’m not really sure how that tracks, but Shane looks sosincere, it’s clear that he, at least, believes it. “Oh,” I say, for lack of anything better.
“And I’m sorry it has to be this way, for real. I think you’re a nice girl. It isn’t anything personal.”
Oh, God. He’s going to kill me. Maybe not right this moment, here in this hotel room, but after he’s taken care of Dean and Thad. He’ll find some way to kill them quietly so people won’t overhear, but he can’t leave behind any witnesses. That’s what he’s trying to tell me in his own clunky, self-serving way. And he isn’t opening the door for me to change his mind—he’s trying to get me to tell him that it’s okay, no hard feelings,I understand that you have to kill us all.
My mouth runs dry. I try to think of something to say, some way to appeal to him, to change his mind, but instead I can’t help but look over at Thad. I can see on his face that he’s reached the same conclusion. We can do nothing but stare at each other, both of us lost, not knowing what to do. Not quite believing that we didn’t get more time.
My attention is drawn back to the room by a quick movement out of the corner of my eye. My first instinct is that it’s Shane, lunging for me, and I tense. But it isn’t Shane moving.
It’s Molly.
Petite, round-bellied Molly moves faster than it would seem possible for anyone in her current shape and size. One moment, she’s a meek, quiet, big-eyed presence, lurking ghost-like in the corner of the room, and the next she’s leaping onto Shane’s back, knocking him to the ground with the force of her body.
“Molly!” Dean calls out anxiously over Shane’s startled, then belligerent, shouts.
Again, my stupid instincts have me moving first toward Molly, until Thad barks at me sharply. “The gun, Helen!”
I look over, seeing that it’s skidded out of Shane’s hands. Molly’s weight is pinning him to the ground, but even nine months pregnant, she isn’t heavy enough to hold him for long. Pushing past the panic of having to (a) hold a gun and (b) potentially use it, I hop over Shane’s prone body, careful to avoid his flailing limbs.
Once the gun is in hand, I point it, trembling, toward Shane. “Stop!” I order him with as much authority as I can muster into my voice. I channel the stern spine of Mother Lois, the rigid rule enforcer in my order, who would have found issue with anyone, even the Pope, for not being quite stalwart enough; the moxie of Erica, making up fake appointments and calling people the wrong name just to get her way; and the mettle of Julie Andrews, climbing over mountains to escape the Nazis. “Stop moving, or I will shoot.”
Something in my voice must ring true, because Shane obediently goes limp. Still, I keep half an eye on him as I skirt around the room, giving him a wide berth, so I can reach the table where Dean and Thad are tied.
“Sis, that was so badass!” Dean crows, even as his eyes track back anxiously to Molly. “Baby, you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Molly returns in that quiet, nervous voice of hers, muffled into Shane’s shoulder.
“You did good, Helen,” Thad tells me solemnly. He holds out his free hand for the gun. “Let me hold it while you call the police. Then you can untie us, okay?”
I’m relieved to relinquish my hold on the gun, relieved to call in the authorities. Relieved to have Shane incapacitated on the ground, and mostly relieved that, by some miracle, we’re all going to be walking out of here tonight. “Okay,” I agree, handing over the gun.
Chapter 44
Thad
It’s a relief once the police show up, even though I’ve done this all enough times to know that their arrival signals a long night ahead of us. It’s not like the movies, where the flashing red and blue lights mean we can slink off again—“There’s your perp, officer. Good night!”—and this will all be over for us. There are witness statements to give, more than once. Paperwork to fill out. We have to wait until the ambulance arrives to take Molly to the hospital, and console Dean that she’s fine, they just want to check on the baby with equipment the EMTs don’t have on hand before they give her the all clear—and explain to Dean that no, he won’t be going with her. He probably won’t be seeing her again for a very long time, maybe never.
A month ago, I don’t know that I would have been all that sympathetic to Dean.People come and go in our lives, I would have told him, if I’d deigned to give him any words of comfort at all.Best not to get too attached.
Now I can’t help but think about how I’d be feeling if it were Helen they were driving away, Helen who I would never see again. That was almost what happened earlier tonight, what Shane was all but telling us he would do. Maybe he would have killed Dean and me first, or maybe I would have had to watch him take Helen from the room, knowing she was never coming back.
The thought is agonizing. Unbearable. It makes me feel like a caged beast. I know police procedure, I know how this all works, but I’m still restless, pacing, irritated that I’m stuck answering the same questions over and over again, unable to be near her. To check that she’s all right. To comfort her. To comfort myself in the knowledge that Shane didn’t succeed: she’s okay, she’s okay.
When they take us all down to the station, I make sure I keep my eyes on Helen as much as possible. I know when she’s taken into one of the offices to give her statement, and I know how long she’s there, and I check the look on her face when she comes out. She looks tired, but otherwise unharmed. If she’s anything like me, she’ll want to sleep for a thousand years once we finally get back to the hotel.
At one point, I see her speaking to an officer, who brings her over to talk to me. My heart catches in my throat at her sudden nearness. I want to pull her into my arms. I want to hold her. I want…to do things that would not be appropriate to do in a crowded police station. Instead all I do is stand as she draws near, swallowing hard as our gazes meet and hold.
