Don't Let Me Die: A gripping psychological thriller Page 18

  “There you are,” he says when he sees me. “We gotta go. That was my guy on the phone. Karlo is on the move. Apparently, he’s heading back home. Or at least it looks that way. My man is staying with him from a safe distance and will update me regularly.”

  I walk up to the car with my mouth half open. “So what does that mean for the plan?”

  “We keep going and work out where he is going to be. If he is heading home, we’ll need to cut him off somewhere along the way. It’s too late for him to make it all the way back in one trip, so he’ll most likely stop off for a break.”

  “How will we find him?” I ask with one hand on the handle.

  James flashes his smile again. “Got a chip on his car. My guy knows exactly where he is at all times.” He stands straight, proud of the abilities of his associate. “Come on,” he says as he taps the roof of the BMW. “Time to move.”

  I nod before climbing in. I feel so useless. All I bring to the table is my hatred. It’s not a skill worth bragging about.

  We make it back on the road and keep going the way we started. James fills me in on the next plan. He figures Karlo will cross the state line in St. Louis after we do, so our best bet is to hold back and wait at a gas station on the border. Once Karlo crosses, we can continue to track him and hope that he stops off somewhere.

  “Him being back in the state will work for our benefit. It will make an arrest more plausible if he’s in Illinois.”

  “Wait,” I say, “what were we going to do if he was still in Kansas City?”

  James’s eyes shift around in his head as he gives me a weak smile.

  “What?” I ask as I try to cross my arms over my chest and turn. The seats in the BMW are too tight to get my message across.

  “We were going to drag him back over state lines and then call the cops.”

  “Against his will?”

  “I guess so. I doubt he was going to come along voluntarily.”

  The discovery messes with my head. On the one hand, it made total sense, but I can’t shake the feeling that James is taking this whole thing too seriously. Either he is trying too hard to be the protective brother, or he is another idiot member of my family. I can’t tell which is worse.

  “You’re upset, aren’t you?” he asks.

  “No, just confused. I know Karlo deserves that kind of thing more than anyone else, but I don’t want to break the law to seek justice.” I let my head drift back out to the farmlands to think for a minute. “Or maybe I do. I don’t know. I can’t even tell you how I will react when I see him. I’ll either go into a blind rage and kill him or collapse into a heap.”

  James shakes his head while keeping his eyes on the road. “I’m sorry, Emma. This was a terrible idea. I should never have gotten you involved. Especially with you in that hospital.”

  “No, it’s okay. Getting me out of there, even for a minute, is more than anyone’s done for me recently. I dread going back more than anything.”

  A moment of silence forms between us. James’s eyes dart around the car’s interior.

  “Who says you have to go back?”

  “What?” I let out. My heart beats too fast in my chest.

  “Think about it. You’re out. Why go back? I can help you start over. I have the money, trust me.”

  “But what about—” I stop myself from completing the thought. I still don’t know whose name I should be saying. Frank or Darren? All I can say without a doubt is that one of them is dead because of me.

  “He will understand. Maybe with enough time, you could go visit him.”

  My hands cover my face. James has hit me with too many things at once. The BMW starts to close in around me as the seat belt cuts off my circulation.

  “Stop the car,” I whisper.

  “Sorry?” James asks. It’s unclear if he can’t hear me or if the demand concerns him.

  “Stop the fucking car. I can’t breathe.”

  James slams on the brakes and pulls over to the emergency lane. He undoes my seat belt for me, and I pile out of the car and fall into the grass. I struggle to catch my breath, but the open space gives me enough grounding to refocus and suspend my fears from escalating into a full-blown panic attack.

  “Are you okay?” James asks as he kneels beside me.

  I stare at him for a moment. He has no idea what I’ve been through. He is trying to patch up a five-year hole with a quick fix.

  “No, James. I’m not okay. I’m as far from okay as someone can be.”

  Forty-Five

  Before.

  “Why midnight? And why there?” Darren asks out loud for the tenth time that evening. It’s only seven p.m. We received the location an hour ago, accompanied by a substantial threat not to go to the cops. And of all the places in the world for these people to pick, we are going to meet at a small park near the elementary school called Vista Park.

  “I don’t know. It’s as good a place as any, I suppose. And the time will guarantee no one is around.”

  Darren looks at me with a twisted brow and a squint.

  “What?” I ask. “Do you think I understand the first thing about what is going on? This is all insane. We’re about to unload all of our money to keep some lunatics away from our family.”

  “We have no choice!” Darren yells. “You convinced me of that. Don’t try to change my damn mind now.”

  “I’m not,” I say, quieter than before. I don’t want Frank to figure out what is going on. “I’m only saying that you need to take a seat and calm the hell down. If we go in all wired up and crazy, they’ll think we’ve gone to the cops. They already know we’ve been talking to them.”

  “Not since that video came our way. They’re probably watching us right now. Karlo must be recruiting all kinds of lowlife scum for this deal. All for two hundred grand. It’s hardly worth the effort.”

  I thought about that myself. We weren’t exactly the best marks to farm a payday. I grab Darren by the arm as he moves by me. “What if this is about more than compensation? What if they want the money, and to see us dead too?”

  Darren shrugs me off and continues stomping around. “They don’t. I know these idiots. They just want money. If we go through with the drop-off, everything will be square.”

  “Then what? They magically leave us alone?”

  Darren stops pacing and squeezes his head tight. He rubs at his temples with closed eyes. Finally, something snaps.

  “What do you want from me?” he yells my way. “I’m trying my best. All you keep doing is making me question my every instinct. One minute you are telling me to pay up, the next you are acting like we have other options.”

  “Maybe we do,” I say.

  Darren shakes his head at me with raised palms. “No cops.”

  “Not that,” I say. “Maybe you could bring your gun along.”

  “And what?”

  “Scare them. Make them think twice about messing with us. Shoot them if you have to.”

  “Shoot them? And go to jail?”

  “No, it would be self-defense, wouldn’t it?”

  “Not out in a park by a school in the middle of the damn night. That’s also forgetting the fact that I am one man against a number we have no idea about. You think they won’t bring guns themselves?”

  I drop my head into my hands and tug at my hair. How could I be so stupid? What ignorance is coming out of my mouth? I’m desperate for a solution, a way out of screwing ourselves over or exposing our lives to a bunch of revenge-hungry criminals.

  I hear crying and realize it’s me. I sniff away the tears and wipe my eyes with my sleeve.

  Darren moves in by my side and places an arm on my back. “I’m sorry for yelling. I didn’t mean any of it. I’m just as scared and confused about this as you are.”

  I grab at him and stand. I fall into his chest and try to find an answer in the security it provides. Usually, I feel safe in this position, but not tonight. I can sense Darren’s anxiety overriding everything. He is a ba
ll of stress close to exploding. How is he going to make the drop-off without spooking these people?

  The time for us to leave comes. We make Frank stay at a friend’s house, so he won’t have to know about any of it. It was late notice, but one of the moms on the basketball team believed my BS story about a family emergency. We told Frank to go along with it, otherwise he’d be grounded for even longer.

  I didn’t like saying goodbye to my son with the possibility that it could be the last time I would ever see him, but I had no other option. If the drop-off goes horribly wrong, he won’t be in any danger. Karlo wasn’t the type of criminal who went after a teenager. Or was he? I had no idea.

  We sit inside Darren’s truck staring at the clock. The park is only a few minutes away. We head out and arrive early in the exact spot we were told to be. No one is around. A deafening calm rolls over the area. Every tree remains stiff in the wind-free night. I’ve never seen the weather do this before. I pray for a breeze to show me that I’m not losing my mind.

  “There’s a car,” Darren says as he grips the steering wheel tight. He closes his eyes and lets out a lungful of staggered air.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to come?” I ask.

  He nods. “No, forget that. If this all goes to shit, start the car and get the hell out of here. Go get Frank, and then go straight to the cops.”

  “Okay, but what about you?”

  “I’ll be okay, honey,” he says with a smile to cover a quivering lip. “Just a few young punks trying to squeeze some dollars from an old man. Nothing else.” Darren opens the door.

  I throw my hand after him and grab hold. “I love you,” I say.

  He glances down at me and grins out of the corner of his mouth. “Love you too, honey.” His smile fades in an instant as he shuts the door and throws the bag of money over his shoulder.

  The car Darren spotted drives straight out on the field of the park, keeping its distance from our truck. I recognize the old sedan that had been sitting outside our house, this time with two figures inside.

  Karlo wasn’t working alone.

  Darren heads straight toward their blinding lights. I want to scream out a warning to him, but it will only cause a panic.

  The old car comes to a rough stop. The first figure climbs out of the car and walks around to the passenger door. I can’t make out his face, but it’s the body of a man. I can tell by the shoulders alone.

  He opens the door for the second person as if they are royalty. I imagine all kinds of crazy in the form of mob bosses. Was Victor connected? He couldn’t be. Why would he have worked for us?

  My rambling thoughts no longer matter when I realize who the second person is.

  There’s no mistaking it. Frank is guided out of the car and is now standing by the man with both of his arms bound in front of him.

  Forty-Six

  “Frank!” I yell as I jump out of the car and run toward him. Darren turns back to me with wide eyes as he realizes why I’m screaming our son’s name.

  “That’s far enough,” a modulated voice calls out from behind a mask. It’s the man standing by Frank—the same one from the video. He has a pistol pointed straight at me. I freeze on the spot and stare at my son. I am so close to Frank that I can see the tears in his eyes. He has no idea what is going on or why.

  Darren steps forward. “He isn’t part of this. Let him go.”

  “Shut the fuck up. Did I say you could talk?” The robot voice booms out at us and chills me to the bone more than the cold ever could. Darren remains stationary. We both do, not wanting to give the man a reason to kill Frank.

  “Listen, Karlo,” Darren says. “I have the money right here. Just take it.”

  The gun lowers for a moment before the man kicks Frank down to his knees. “Don’t move.” He brushes past our son and heads straight for Darren, who holds the bag out. The man snatches it free from Darren’s hands and tosses the pack aside.

  “Get the fuck over there by him.”

  “Karlo, wait—”

  “Don’t say my name,” Karlo yells before he hits Darren across the face with the metal gun. Darren drops down to one knee. Karlo grabs him and drags him over to Frank’s side and places him on both knees.

  I am frozen. I can’t move a muscle. My legs feel like they weigh a thousand pounds each as I stare at the psycho in the mask. He slowly circles around Frank and Darren and holds his gun out to their heads. He pulls back the hammer on the pistol.

  “Please don’t,” I say.

  “Shut up. Do not speak unless spoken to, or I will waste them both right now.”

  I nod, not sure if I can reply with words. Karlo isn’t messing around. He never was. This has always been a dangerous situation. Why that dawns on me now is beyond frustrating. We should have gone to the police. What did we have to lose?

  “Two hundred grand isn’t going to cut it. We want more. We know you have it.”

  “We don’t,” I say. “That’s all of it. The business is gone now. All we have left is our house.”

  “That’s right. That big fucking expensive house in the nice part of town. You are going to hand it over, understand?”

  I agree as fast as I can. “It’s yours. Take it.” I reach into my pockets to fetch the keys. Karlo aims the gun at me.

  “I’m just grabbing the keys.” I hold them up with a shaky hand to show I’m serious. What good is a large house if your family is dead?

  “Don’t move,” Karlo says as he opens the car door. His engine is still running as he pulls out a document and slaps it on the hood.

  “You and Darren own that house outright. I want the deed transferred to me. Both of you sign this right now.”

  “Okay,” I say. I cast my eyes to Darren and realize he isn’t scared; he’s angry. There’s blood coming from the cut on his skull that he won’t soon forget. I shake my head at him as subtly as I can. He ignores me.

  Darren jumps up and drives his elbow into Karlo’s gut. The blow empties the masked man’s lungs and gives Darren an opportunity to wrestle for the gun. They both grab at the weapon and fall to the ground. I run toward the fight, heading for Frank, but Karlo regains the upper hand before I have a chance to reach my son. Karlo shoves Darren off and holds the pistol to his chin.

  “What the hell did I say? You think I’m messing around?” Karlo gets back to his feet and kicks Darren in the face. I watch as my husband topples over and crawls away. Karlo goes after him and lifts him up and around, tossing him back to his spot beside Frank. I move away as Karlo shifts his aim toward me.

  “You Turners don’t seem to learn, do you? Well, I might have to teach you all a lesson.”

  “Please, he didn’t know what he was doing,” I beg.

  “Bullshit. He knew what he was doing. Just like he knew what he was doing when he tried to screw Victor over.”

  “That’s not true,” Darren gets out. I can hear him struggling under the multiple attacks he has suffered.

  “You shut the hell up and sign this, now.” Karlo turns back to me. “You’re next.”

  I turn to Darren and plead with him. “Do it, Darren, please.” I stare into his eyes and try to dissolve the hatred flowing through him.

  “Okay,” he mutters.

  “Okay? You think you have a choice?” Karlo shouts. He lifts Darren up to the hood of the car. He pins him down and puts a pen in his hand. “Sign it.” Karlo pulls out a penlight and guides Darren through the process of transferring the title to our house. I come over next and sign every spot he orders me to put pen to paper. All Karlo has to do now is fill out his details and take the document to a crooked notary. I begin to understand how he has planned this whole thing out. All except one detail.

  “Now was that so hard, Turners? See what happens when you work as a team?”

  He shoves me back and places Darren on his knees.

  I already comprehend what will happen next. All I can do is beg for Karlo to be reasonable, but I realize this has been part of his
plan from the start.

  To properly secure our house, we need to be dead.

  Forty-Seven

  “You don’t need to do this, Karlo. We can leave town right now. We won’t interrupt you taking it. The house is yours.” I try every line on the angered criminal, but Karlo just stares at me. I can see his black eyes through the mask. Even without those contacts in he would still be staring at me without care. I am nothing to him but an obstacle to overcome. How does a person reach this point?

  “You Turners had your chance to play nice. Now it’s time to play a little game.”

  “No, please, we don’t have to play any games,” I say.

  He squares the gun at my head again and wraps his gloved finger around the trigger. I cower down and look away, waiting for the bullet to hit my skull and scatter my brains across the thin layer of snow building up on the grass. I can’t help but picture the red spray slicing across the air to stain the ground.

  I peek and realize the gun is no longer pointed at me. “Too easy,” Karlo says. “I’ve got a better idea.” He places a hand on Frank’s shoulder.

  “Don’t touch him, please. Can’t we just let Frank go? He has no part in this. You can take the house without involving him. Darren and I are the ones you want.”

  A smile fills Karlo’s eyes. His mouth is covered with the modulator, but I can recognize the rise in his cheeks, revealing that this entire ordeal is making him happy.

  “Frank can’t go,” he says. “If I let him live, he inherits the house. You see the problem I have.”

  “No, you could claim the house before that happens. Inheritances take time. He’s not even eighteen yet.”

  “Sounds logical, but I’d rather you all were dead. It’d be easier.” The gun aims down at Frank. I lose control of my body and charge at Karlo. Before I can stop him, he drives the side of the pistol across my face and slams me right in the temple. A bright flash of white sends me to the ground. I can’t tell which way is up for a moment until I see him standing over me.