Kiss Me If You Dare

38

My legs scrambled to keep up to Simon’s fast pace. “You killed Jane?”

“The professor was paying me to protect you. Majestic was paying me to track you. And Jane got in the way. She knew too much and was using the information to get more of the Braddock fortune. I could have cared less until she tried to get a piece of my action. You elbow in on a hit, you end up at the bottom of a cliff.”

I dug my fingernails into the skin of his hand. “That’s disgusting. It was Thanksgiving Day.”

He cried out in surprise and slugged my temple. “You’re right. I should have waited until it wasn’t a national holiday.”

I blinked back tears, determined to remain in control of my emotions during crisis. I craned my neck around, but all I could see was Simon’s chin. “Can we take a break? I can’t keep going this speed with your arm cutting off my air.”

He waved his weapon in front of my face. A thick, straight piece of wood, like the handle of a wooden spoon, sharpened to a deadly point. Simple, nonmetallic, and effective in gaining my cooperation.

We passed a couple signs on the wall. SURGE CHAMBER, said one. REFUGE, said the other. Both arrows pointed ahead.

“Which way, Pops?” Simon twisted my neck as he asked the question, earning a good yell.

My dad was bent over, catching his breath. “You can’t get out this way. I already told you.”

“Come on, old man. There must be an escape tunnel somewhere.”

Dad shook his head. “The refuge is where you go if the escape tunnels collapse. There’s food and water in there.”

“I feel a breeze,” Simon said, holding out a hand to catch the air. “Where’s it coming from?”

“The vent shaft for the surge chamber,” Dad answered. “It’s a straight shot up. Unless you’re Spiderman, you can’t get out that way.”

Simon squeezed my neck. I started to gag.

“Unless I see daylight pretty quick, you’re going to watch your daughter die.”

“I don’t know what to tell you.” Dad gestured helplessly with his arms. “They’re coming for you. I suggest you give up without a fight.”

Simon dragged me through a metal arch toward the sound of rushing water. Dad followed behind. Another vast cavern, this one with a railing and a straight drop to swirling foam below.

“It’s a dead end,” my dad said.

“Dead end for you, maybe. Where’s this thing go?” Simon gestured to the water below.

Dad shook his head. “You wouldn’t have a chance. If you made it out of the lower chamber alive, it’s still almost two kilometers through the tailrace to open water.”

“Then you better hope we can backtrack through the escape tunnel. I only get paid when Majestic gets his man.”

A sound like a footstep, or a rock falling, came from the route behind us. Simon turned, yanking my head around with him. The sharp pointy stick prodded my jugular.

Candice stood in the archway.

“You’re okay.” My voice came out squeaky under pressure. From the shadows came Suzette, Monique, then Meagan. “Suzette, get the girls out of here,” my dad said, panic in his voice.

“Mr. Scroll is outnumbered, Jacob,” Candice purred. “I think he’ll put his kabob stick down and give up quietly.” She stood with her arms crossed, looking sleek in her black clothing. The other women followed suit, standing in menacing formation.

Simon laughed, each shake of his body driving the point farther into my skin. “Afraid of a bunch of girls? You look like more hostages to me.”

I grabbed his forearm, nudging the solid mass of muscle away from my air pipe. “Don’t mess with Candice. Trust me. Put the weapon down and run for your life.” “It’s good advice, Mr. Scroll,” she said. “I’ll give you ten seconds to comply.”

Simon laughed.

Candice dug into her pocket and took out a slim squirt bottle, as small as a breath mint dispenser.

“What’s that? Anthrax-on-the-go?”

“Something a little more fast-acting,” Candice seethed. With a quick thrust of her finger, a shot of liquid arced across the space between them. I felt a drop land on the back of my hair, even as Simon hollered and bent down, rubbing his eyes with both hands.

My head was still locked in his grip, but while he writhed, I made a sharp twist and jerked myself free- not without a jab to the neck.

“It’s amazing how effective good old-fashioned pepper spray can be. My own recipe too.” Candice grabbed my arm and pulled me out of reach of my captor.

I held a hand to my neck. Wet, oozing blood stuck to the fur of my new parka. “Jerk,” I said, grateful Simon had missed a major artery.

Simon slashed out with his pointy stick, slicing at my father’s shirt. Dad jumped back, perhaps considering whether it was worth trying to subdue the raving man.

Eyes red and watery and still completely closed, Simon screamed as he gashed the air with his weapon. “You’re going to die, Russo. You and your daughter both. I’m not done with you. Don’t try to leave.”

My dad walked away from the screaming lunatic and swept his wife and younger daughters into his arms and urged them back into the tunnel. “Come on, Patricia,” he called to me.

Simon made a blind lunge toward the sound of his voice, and caught hold of Candice’s jacket.

“Let go.” Her voice was low and threatening.

But Simon had the opposite intention. He pulled Candice to him and drove the point of his stick through the leather into her side.

“Ahhh!” Her scream echoed through the surge chamber. Simon flung her body around blindly, stabbing wherever his weapon found a weakness.

“Candice!” I screamed and ran toward them.

Blood ran from her face, her legs, her arms. She looked ripped to shreds. Candice screamed and flailed, but the angry man kept lashing out, showing no mercy.

I kicked at the back of his leg, popping it out from under him. He hollered and whirled, letting go of Candice and coming toward me, eyes barely slits across his face.

A slew of insults rolled across his lips. I dodged him, no plan in mind as I raced along the rail, heading through the gloom toward a blank rock wall.

“Really smart, Tish,” I chided myself as I ran along. In seconds I’d reached the end of the line. Panting, I turned to face Simon, too late to dodge the brute force that plowed me into the cavern wall. The air rushed out of me the same time my head made a deafening crunch against the stones. I opened my eyes in time to see his fist coming toward my face, weapon in hand.

I ducked to one side, feeling the point rip across my cheek and harpoon an earlobe exposed beneath my hardhat. No breath to scream, I rolled under Simon’s arm, feeling a tug and burning pain at the side of my head as the weapon pulled free of my skin. I scrambled away, my only thought survival, as Candice limped past me to confront our attacker.

“Just run,” I gasped.

She ignored me, fixed on her target. I turned to watch in horror as the older woman wrangled with Simon, the tip of the weapon only inches from her heart.

With a cry, she landed against the rail, leaning backward over the flowing water as she tried to avoid getting stabbed again.

Footsteps sounded behind me. I glanced over my shoulder to see my father. He reached me, putting his arm around me just as Candice screamed and slipped over the rail. At the last moment her arms reached up and clung to Simon’s neck, bending him forward in a precarious dip over the railing. He tried pushing her away, but she swung her dangling body, knocking him off balance and tumbling him forward until only his back end was still on our side of the barrier. With a final grunt, Candice yanked him clear of the metal rods.

“Candice!” I screamed and raced to the rail to see two bodies plummet to the swirls below. The double splash was barely audible over the sound of rushing water.

“Dad! Do something!” My fingers clung to the cold railing.

His arms held me, his silence answer enough.

I stared into the black water, reaching as if I could somehow pluck Candice from the maelstrom.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. Was she special to you?” My dad’s voice broke through my vain attempt to raise Can-dice from the depths with prayer and wishful thinking. I broke into a loud moan, only able to nod my reply. How foolish was it to be sad that the woman I came here to put out of commission was now dead? Shouldn’t I be rejoicing? I hadn’t even dirtied my own hands.

But this wasn’t the ending I’d really wanted. Yes, I’d wanted to hurt Candice in revenge for shooting Brad. But I could never have killed her. Forgiveness would have somehow welled up at the last moment and stopped any deadly blow. After all, hadn’t she come to Churchill Falls to save my father? That favor deserved better than death. Besides, Candice hadn’t actually killed Brad. If he was dying now, it was by his own choice.

Tears dripped onto my knuckles, still clenched around the iron rail. “Is there any hope at all?” I whispered.

My dad’s hand rubbed over my back. “We’ve been running at low capacity for repairs, so the flow is down and divers can retrieve the bodies if necessary. But no, honey. I don’t think it’s possible to make it out alive.”

I nodded and crumpled, forehead to my hands against the banister. There was no chance now of Happy Ever After for Puppa. His love story had come to an end here in the cold dampness of a man-made cavern, the bare glow of overhead lamps illuminating the freezing waters of an underground river.

Lifting my head, I gazed across the expanse. Yet because of Candice and my hunger for revenge, I found my father-and my sisters. Perhaps without realizing it, Candice had given far more than she’d taken.

Humble and sad, with a glimmer of understanding for the whole warped thing, I turned to my father. “I imagine we’ve got some questions to answer. But when we’re done here,” I took a deep breath for courage, “am I still invited to supper tonight?”

He laughed through his tears, holding me in a fierce grip. “Always, Patricia. Always.”