The Open Road

Chapter 24

Marie

This couldn’t be happening.

This couldn’t be happening.



This couldn’t be happening.

Yet it was. I could recognize any of his vehicles from miles away. I could detect the change in the atmosphere when he was near. So why was I not moving? I tried to open my mouth; get some air in, scream for help, tell everyone to run, but I couldn’t. I mean, has anyone ever tried to outrun the devil?

Someone was trying to talk to me. I could hear their voice but it was not distinct enough for me to comprehend. I felt my arm being pulled, I wanted to let myself follow whoever had the good sense to leave but I just…how had he found me? All this time, in the shadows, now he finds me? And with this much ease?

Fucking Darren had sold me out.

A tear escaped my eye. I twisted my face, eager to make the tear disappear before the car halted. I almost scoffed, some things never changed. A black Mercedes meant that the goons inside would be clad in some dapper outfits. I wondered if he was sick enough to make them wear bowties. I wondered if he had put the bowties on them himself. Darren had no idea what he had gotten himself into. People joke around about selling their souls to the devil for success. Is it not a small price to pay for living in a mansion and basically shitting money? Well, no price can be put on freedom. No price can be tagged on being able to wake up in the morning and having your biggest worry be what breakfast to take or what outfit to put on. Selling your soul is like willingly walking into a prison cell. But not the normal ones where you get to bask in the sun on the yard or share stories with your inmates; no, this one will isolate you from the world, from any sort of human contact except his.

My teeth clenched when the car came to a sudden halt. Three men immediately alighted, their guns already trained on us. They wore matching dark suits complete with white shirts and exotic bowties. Their eyes were obscured by thin, dark sunglasses. They were new. Contract killers? Ex-military? The way their legs were slightly bent coupled with how they were moving with unnerving sync screamed trained killers. My heart sank, we had no chance at surviving this.

I saw something from the corner of my eye. Yes, a door had just opened. A backseat door. He had always had a flair for dramatics. We had been forced on our knees at some point. None of us had questioned the command. Wait, were the only two now? Had I not counted three? For the first time since I had spotted the car, I angled my head to the side. Bob was kneeling beside me, his hands behind his head, his arms arched in the air. He was staring straight ahead, his mouth grim, his eyes darkened. I bent forward a little, my eyes scouting for Jack. Had he left us or had he escaped? I suddenly felt the urge to scratch the lining of my throat. Surely he would not abandon us? If he was that type of a man he would have jumped ship back at the hospital…

No one is coming to rescue you, Marie.

I have never been able to decide which is worse, fear or despair. While fear can motivate you to act, you will never be rational in your choices, let alone happy with the outcome. And despair? Despair leaves you docile and lost. You might as well be a comatose patient, for the rest of your life. I heard his footsteps approaching. Custom-made shoes from Rwanda that allowed him to move about stealthily. Yet I heard him. The man does not believe in stealth. He believed that power was loud and aggressive.

"Well well, look at what we have here if it isn't my wife harboring an escaped convict."

I slowly averted my gaze towards him. He had not changed at all. Strikingly handsome, dark almost shimmering skin, carefully shaved goatee, and kind eyes. He was smiling, charmingly. Memories of us sitting in front of the television and watching football matches resurfaced. We had both been enthusiastic fans. We had both loved the same team. At some point, I had been very happy with Patrick.

"I have heard of your surviving tactics…”

My eyes widened a fraction.

“What? You thought I would not keep tabs on you? You are my wife, the one woman I have ever truly loved. So I chose to bide my time, let you enjoy the freedom you so desperately craved, and guess what? The very man you ran to for protection approached me Marie, me.”

And what a f*****g fool he was.

Patrick shifted his attention to Bob. I watched as his expression swiftly changed. The charming smile vanished and in its place was…malice. A shiver ran down my spine, had Darren asked him to kill Bob. I opened my mouth to speak, to ask, to beg but nothing came out.

“You and your brother have interesting dynamics. I have never seen such a dysfunctional family. Son kills father, son goes to jail, son escapes jail, brother wants to kill…son? No no no. That cannot be right.”

A peal of raspy laughter emanated from Patrick. His men did not join him.

“Tell me, Robert, did you really kill your father? Because if you did, then I am working with the wrong brother.”

I turned to look at Bob. His mouth was pressed in a tight line, his breathing labored. I expected him to angrily retort but instead he just stared back at Patrick.

“But then again you have escaped prison in the name of clearing your name…You are a hard one to figure out. Perhaps one day we could do business together.”

Wait, does that mean that he was not going to kill Bob?

"As for you my love…You put me in a lot of trouble you know. Business got bad, customers fled and I could not get to you because you ran to my enemy. You took away my title Marie. Do you know how long it took me to get that title? After all, I did for you? How could you do this to me, my love?”

I felt it before I saw it. His hand had enveloped my neck. He was squeezing it, denying air into my chest. I hardly recognized the sounds that were coming out of my mouth. Half-screams, half-gasps. Our eyes were interlocked, I felt mine well with scorching tears.

“Is that any way to treat your wife?”

Patrick retrieved his hand and allowed me to fall forward into his arms. He embraced me. Everything about this was so familiar. His large chest, woody scent, and prickly goatee. I was home.

“Tell me Robert, do wives normally hide children from their husbands?”

My body went numb. A metallic taste formed itself on my tongue. There was a loud ringing in my ears. Patrick knew about Kimberly. Patrick was going to go after Kimberly.

Before I could scream, before I could beg for my daughter’s life; the sound of a gunshot blared through the air.