I want that for her, I do. But… I need her too much to let her go.
The next time I look up, the light is green so I make a left, back towards the freeway. Where I will take Sasha to the last place on earth she wants to be.
That’s right, James. You’re an asshole. You have a chance to give her a new family, but no. You deny her that opportunity so she can play her part in your sick plan that will never work.
But the funny thing is… Tet isn’t concerned with any of those messy feelings. And so I let James slip away as the road passes by. James zones out and Tet takes over.
After all, he’s the one who gets things done.
He’s the one who keeps us alive.
And right now, staying alive is the only thing that matters.
Until it’s time to kill.
Chapter Four
Sasha
When James gets out of the truck I watch him from the crack of my eyelids. I know where we’re at. Fort Collins. Ford worked here last year. His friends live here. If I got out of this truck right now and went back to that bike shop, I could find him.
But James…
I’m worried about him. I wait until he’s out of sight and then I follow him down to the garage. I peek through the door as he has some kind of internal struggle. I know what he did here. Nick told me.
He killed his brother.
And the first time I heard that I felt there was no way I could like James¸ let alone love him. But I was wrong.
When it looks like he’s finished I trot silently back up the stairs, run down the path, and put myself back to sleep inside the truck.
When James comes back and we get back on the road, I know what he’s thinking as we wait for the light. The light is green and he’s still sitting there trying to come to terms with what he needs to do and what he should do.
He should take me to Ford and drop me off.
And I’m gonna be honest, a part of me really wants that. A part of me thinks if anyone can fix me—change me back into a little girl—then it’s Ford.
But I heave a silent sigh of relief when he finally turns and takes us north, away from the town. And when we get to the freeway thirty minutes later and we’re still going north, I have to come to terms with where we’re actually going.
Cheyenne.
He’s taking me home—except it’s not my home anymore.
I have not been back to Cheyenne since last Christmas Eve when my father was killed. I ended up in the hospital and then my grandparents came and picked me up and took me back to their ranch in northern Wyoming.
Ford came to see me the next day on Christmas. He drove all the way from Denver, he said. Drove all night long. Almost eight hours.
And when he found me sitting in the bay window seat in my room, he sat down next to me and made his promise.
His hand is cold from driving in that piece-of-shit Bronco he showed up in. I pull away, but he squeezes—hard.
I look up into his soft brown eyes and shake my head, trying not to cry.
“Sasha,” he says. “I swear to God, they will not get away with this. We will make this right.”
“How?” I ask him, wiping my hand across my nose to stop the sniffling. “You don’t have any idea who we’re dealing with. You don’t know anything. You’re not even a hunter.”
“You’re right, I’m not. But I am a consultant. And my partner, Merc, he is a hunter. And he’s still alive. I talked to him.”
I clench my fists together so hard my fingernails dig into my skin. “He should be dead!” I scream that last part. “He should be dead, not my dad!”
There’s a few moments of silence and I figure he’s on the defensive now. He’s not sure what to do with me. I count on that when I’m dealing with men. A small girl has very little power in a big man’s world. But I do what I can by keeping them off guard.
I look up at him expecting sympathy, but I get a sneer instead.
“Don’t play me, kid. I’m not in the fucking mood. I drove eight goddamned hours to be here and give you this.” He holds opens his fist to reveal a flash drive.
Yesterday Ford came into my dad’s gun shop at the antique mall with his friend Merc. And while Merc was buying guns, Ford bought some Christmas presents for his mom and friend.
The flash drive was my present to him.
Sorta.
The present was my last-ditch attempt to get rid of the flash drive before someone came looking for it.
I stifle a cry as I realize I might be the reason my father is dead right now. I reach for it but Ford closes his fist again and pulls away. “Not so fast.”
I stare at him.
“What is this?”
I blink my eyes innocently.
“On first glance, it’s a drive with photos on it. Of a girl and her father and all their crazy times together. But that’s not what it is, is it?”
I say nothing.
“If people are looking for this, you better fucking say so. You understand? Because people are dead, Sasha.”
“I know,” I cry. “I know. But I swear I didn’t know this would happen.”
“So what’s on here?” he asks.
“I don’t know. But I’m afraid to keep it now. Yesterday morning I saw two guys who I know are supposed to be dead. They were standing outside the antique mall, smoking cigarettes. I knew… I just knew they were there looking for that drive. And I got scared and put it in with your gift-wrapped knife to get it away.”
“How the fuck did you know I wouldn’t hand it over to someone who shouldn’t have it?”