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I don’t see any horror or sympathy on her face. More like indifference, which I find more terrifying than the smile I see on Keahi as she fingers her blade.
Leilani continues to do the talking. “It’s over, Mac. You got sloppy. Stealing from your business partners. Calling too much attention to operations. The FBI has been investigating you for years—”
“No big deal,” MacManus wheezes out. “Always… looking. Price of… success.”
“Yes, but now there’s a slain undercover agent buried on Pomaikai. That’s going to be a little harder to dismiss.”
“Not… my fault.”
“Doesn’t matter. Brent confessed to me what happened—she discovered him during one of his misguided acts of sabotage, and he bashed in her skull. Idiot was convinced he was going to be arrested at any moment. But then… nothing happened. Which might have been good luck, but since I don’t believe in such things, I did some asking around, reached out to our associates. They’d already caught wind of an undercover agent being inserted into your operations. They were very unhappy about that development. Learning the agent had been murdered made them even unhappier.
“Consider this their vote of no confidence. Account numbers. Passwords for the offshore accounts. I want them. More importantly, Keahi wants them.”
Another gurgling scream. I screw my eyes shut. I don’t want to see; hearing is awful enough. Vaughn places his hand in mine, squeezing hard. I can feel his body trembling.
It feels like it’s going on and on and on, and then, a sudden, gasping break.
“Account numbers. Passwords.”
“How… can you… do this?”
“You chose a tough business. Failure has consequences. And I’m not paying for your mistakes.”
“I… raised you… like a daughter.”
“You kidnapped me!” For the first time, there’s real emotion in Leilani’s voice. “You snatched me away from my sister, just like she—” Leilani bites off the words, but her sentence isn’t hard to finish.
Just like Keahi snatched her away from her parents. Or more precisely, Keahi snatched her away from her mother, who braided her hair, and sang her songs, and kept her safe with her in the kitchen.
Clearly, Leilani remembers more of her childhood than she’s let on. And has her own opinion on her sister’s role as savior. Interesting.
“I’ve never been real to you,” Leilani accuses now. “I was always just a prop. Proof of your generous heart. You can’t be a total arrogant ass, look at the poor little orphan you’re heroically raising as your own.
“But guess what, Mac? You’ve never been real to me, either. Just some tool my sister brought home one day. She used you first. I used you last. And now you’re done. Account numbers. Passwords.”
A sharp yelp as Keahi no doubt punctuates the demand with her blade.
“At this point, we have at least a week for Keahi to play with you. This atoll is ours; no one to interrupt, no one to save you. Meaning the sooner you give me what I need, the sooner this can end. We both know you’re not that tough. Just be done with it, Mac. Tell me what I need to know.”
Silence. But not the good kind. A knuckles-whitening kind of tension that builds and builds.
Then:
Shrieking. Gurgling. More agonizing screaming in pitches and volume I didn’t know were possible. I try to cover my ears. I hunch my shoulders as if that will block the sound. But nothing works. It’s inside my head, searing my nerves, vibrating my limbs, straining my chest.
Vaughn’s arm is around me. We stand together in the midst of the most agonizing kind of hurricane.
Then, I simply can’t take it anymore.
Maybe MacManus hasn’t broken, but I have.
I push myself away from Vaughn. Before he can stop me, I pound up the porch steps and bang loudly on the front door.
The shrieking ends abruptly. And then the silence gets very interesting.
KEAHI OPENS THE door. She’s holding a dripping knife and peering at me quizzically.
“You,” she states.
