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“No,” I replied. “I can walk out of here.”
I didn’t know who the bastards were who had kidnapped me, but I wasn’t going to let them have anymore power over me. I would walk out of my prison on my own feet.
Kimble reached for my hand again, but I waved him off. “I’m fine. I can walk.”
He took me out of the back of the house through the alley exit. His SUV was parked around the corner. His head swiveled back and forth the entire time we jogged to the vehicle. It was a fleeting thought, but I couldn’t help but remember all the times I’d tried to outsmart Kimble. All the times I’d lied to him. Hidden from him. Sneaked out of the house and caused him to search for me. I treated him like shit. Like trash. Like a stupid brute.
His palm gripped my shoulder as he held open the backdoor for me.
“Just stay down,” he instructed me.
I was brimming with adrenaline and a new awe for him. I nodded.
The door closed and Kimble slid behind the steering wheel. The gun rested in the console. His eyes darted to the rearview mirror.
“You sure you’re okay?” he repeated.
I fastened my seatbelt. “Other than desperately needing a shower, I’m fine.” My fingers trembled, making it hard to snap the belt into place. I had a thousand questions for him, starting with how he found me. I sat low in the seat.
“Does my father know you found me?” I asked. I wondered if he was worried. Had the nurse even tried to tell him I was gone? It was probably a terrible idea to inform a dying man his daughter had been kidnapped.
“Kennedy.”
My eyes met Kimble’s in the mirror.
“No,” I whispered.
He pulled over on the side of the road. We were somewhere where sugar can grew. He shifted the SUV to park and twisted in the seat.
“Mr. Martin, your father, he passed away last night. I’m sorry.”
I felt a lump in my throat. I nodded. “Thank you for letting me know.” I looked out the window. The sugar cane rustled in the breeze. “Was he alone?” I asked.
“The night nurse was with him,” he answered.
I bit the inside of my cheek. I was angry at myself for feeling sadness and pain. He didn’t deserve my grief. He’d done nothing but resent me my entire life. I’d barely made the cut to be his protégé. His own daughter, ineligible. I’d fought so hard for a place next to him and now he was gone. That place didn’t exist anymore.
I cleared my throat. “Did he know I was missing?”
Kimble nodded. “He did. He sent me to find you. I’m sorry I couldn’t bring you home to say goodbye to him. I tried. I wasn’t able to keep my promise to him.”
I swore it was because the adrenaline had worn off. It was because I’d been locked in a tomb, preparing to be raped or killed for a week. It was because I’d only faced death one other time, when my mother died. I made up excuses for the reason I broke. For the tears and sobs that followed. For the five minutes I allowed Kimble to crawl in the backseat and put his arms around me while I cried, until there were no more tears.
