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“What if we let him run? Maybe this is his way of taking the decision out of our hands. He knows there’s no real way for you to save his life. Gallo and Frost would find out about him eventually if you tried to hide him here. I’ve been racking my brain trying to come up with a solution, but there’s nothing. What if this is his way of making things easier for us?”
Erick’s quiet. He’s considering, but I don’t need him to agree. I know what he thinks of my father, and he isn’t wrong. Dad’s a con man, a liar, a cheat. Anything he does always has an ulterior motive, and those motives always lead back to him, back to whatever he needs and wants.
But for once, I want to pretend like my father’s doing something hard that benefits everyone but himself, even if that goes against his character.
“We’ll find him,” Erick says at last. “And if we don’t, I don’t know what’ll happen. I hope he doesn’t stumble right into Gallo’s or Frost’s hands.”
“I hope so too.”
It’s a hard night. Ren’s men come and go, updating when necessary. The phone keeps ringing and Erick talks quietly, giving orders. Nothing happens, nobody’s found. Marina brings tea and snacks. She’s haggard, exhausted like everyone else, but she won’t go to bed, not even when I tell her to. “I’ll be here for you,” she says, patting my arm.
I’m a wreck. I drift in and out, lying on that couch. Erick drinks, glares, talks. Eventually, the sun starts to come up, and I’m ready to stumble into bed for a few hours of sleep when Ren appears in the doorway.
I know it’s bad news before he talks.
“We found the truck,” he says. “Needed sunlight to do it, but we found it.”
“Where?” Erick comes around the desk, his shirtsleeves rolled to his elbows, clothes rumpled.
“You’d better come see.” Ren glances at me. “Maybe she should stay behind.”
“No,” I say, leaping to my feet. “No, I’m coming.”
Erick stares at me before nodding. “Alright. Let’s go.”
Ren leads the way. We get into a Jeep and follow a twisting dirt road. I understand why Erick wanted someone to show me how to navigate it before trying to drive it myself: there are false turns with multiple steep drops into ravines.
“We chose this place because it’s hard to reach,” Erick says over the noise of the Jeep’s engine. “Lots of dangerous shit just getting out here. There’s a reason it’s a fantastic prison.”
I give him a hard look. “No need to remind me.” Though he’s got a point and I’m glad I never indulged in my escape fantasies, because it’s all desert and steep drops all over the place.
“We have enemies, Hellie, which means this place has to be secure. That’s another reason why I want to keep you out here.”
That makes more sense to me. I don’t say anything as Ren slows the Jeep and rounds a corner. Ahead, more Jeeps are parked, forming a blockade across the path. On the left is another steep drop, a cliff that ends in nothing, and I understand that we’re high in the desert mountains at the top of some massive mesa.
Ren kills the engine and we get out. Men stand around, all of them looking grim, and I feel sick. This is bad—this is horrible—and my mind’s moving too fast to process everything around me.
“Maybe you should stay back,” Erick says, putting a hand on my arm, but I shake him off and walk to the edge.
Down below, there’s a twisted shape. It’s blackened, and the rocks are scorched all around it. I stare, brain refusing to make sense of what I’m seeing, until Ren speaks.
“If I had to guess, he went over driving too fast in the middle of the night. It’s not hard to do. He would’ve died on impact, nice and fast, if that helps at all.”
Then I understand. Down below is my truck. My new truck—now a twisted mass of metal and burned-out parts.
“No,” I say, horror grabbing me by the throat. Tears fill my eyes. “No, that’s not real.”
“I’m sorry.” Erick tries to pull me away. “You don’t need to see this.”
“No,” I say and try to fight him. I’m out of my mind, struggling, thrashing. I just got my father back, I wanted another day with him, there had to be another way—but he can’t be down in that ravine, down in that destroyed truck, burned beyond recognition, dead on impact. “No, please, no, this can’t be real.”
“I’m sorry.” Erick drags me from the edge. I’m not thinking anymore, I’m reacting on instinct, screaming in sorrow and mourning and rage.
“Why did you do it? Why did you try to run!”
Erick holds me tight. His big arms pin me against him, keep me from doing something stupid like running to that edge. I want to see Dad one more time, tell him I loved him, but the selfish bastard stole a truck and tried to run away, and all his games finally caught up with him.
Now he’s dead. A burned corpse in the desert.
