Blood and Bone(32)

Sobs rip through me. "No."

He coughs, and I can hear the death rattle. I pull out my phone,  realizing I don't know the address. Desperation and defeat fight for the  top spot in my heart. I push off him, turning and running outside. I  get to the street, dialing 911.

The operator asks me questions, but I shout at her, "1901 Fairview  Avenue. A man has been shot. He's a surgeon at a hospital in Seattle. He  says it's a stomach wound and he's dying. Please hurry." She shouts  things at me, but I run back inside, scrambling with my fingers to find  light switches so the emergency workers can see their way inside. I hit  something and a door opens. I hit something else and light flickers in  the back. It's enough. I leave the door open and run to the flat. He's  still breathing. I cling to him, holding my hand over the wound.         

     



 

He opens one bloodshot eye. "Why are your hands so cold?"

It makes me smile through the sniffles and tears. "They're coming. I  called for an ambulance. I told them you're a doctor from Seattle and  that you've been shot."

He winces. "They're going to be looking for me. My blood is at the scene  where Randall is dead. They're going to know I was hurt, and Rory knows  I was a surgeon, doesn't he?"

I swallow hard, nodding after a moment.

"You have to run. You have to leave me here."

I shake my head but he pushes on me. "GO NOW!" His voice cracks.

I stand, backing away. "I can't leave you."

He pats his own chest. "You live in here. You can't leave me, ever. A  person's heart can't be given away more than one time. After that it's  not real. It's forced. I gave you my whole heart, and you gave me yours.  We don't need anything else." The sirens in the distance change the  subject for us. "Go, now. Go to the place you hid from the monsters."

I turn and run. I don't look back. I can't watch him die, and I can't  stay and get caught too. Rory will win. Our best chance is with me free  to kill him. I won't have any fancy way of doing it. I have only one  way.

I take the car and drive as fast as I can to North Carolina. His cash is  still in the car, thank God. I get some drive-thru food, suffer through  it, and head for Pat's house just as the sun starts to come up. I have  no way to contact Antoine, but I have to assume he isn't in on this.  He's innocent and yet guilty by association. He will give my aunt to  Rory and let him kill her but just not know that's what happened.

I park a block behind the house and run along the road, cutting through  yards and hopping over fences, with a great deal of effort. I imagine it  was the reason I stayed so skinny, to make running and hopping fences  simple.

When I land on the grass with a thud in Pat's yard, I scan for any  movement. I don't cut across the grass but hug the perimeter. There is a  sedan parked out front. It's beige and has two guys in it. I almost  roll my eyes.

I grab the hide-a-key from the planter and unlock the basement door.  Slipping into the dark, I close the door and lock it. The shadows in the  house remind me I'm scared of the dark. The ache in my heart reminds me  I no longer care.

I hurry up the basement stairs, sneaking past the windows on the main  floor and rushing the second-story stairs. I creep into Pat's room,  pulling down the attic stairs inside her closet.

The light from the morning sun fills the attic. It's small and bright,  with windows everywhere. I crawl up the stairs, pulling them up with me  when I get inside. The space hasn't changed. There are still Barbie bins  and coloring books. The dollhouse is dusty and smaller than I remember  it being.

I glance about, wondering where I would have hidden something up here.

A fuzzy memory sneaks in, reminding me of the time I wrote a love letter  to Dawson Diego. He gave it back with a big X across the spot where he  had to pick yes or no. I saved all my tears and humiliation for this  spot and then hid the letter behind the wall. I turn, seeing the very  spot. You had to crawl across the ladder, and only a small child would  be able to make it across. It was my very first booby trap. I scoot  along the ladder, not sitting on it, but am able to reach across it to  the spot where the panel pushes back with ease. Clearly I never clued  into the fact adults have long arms . . .

I pull a large manila envelope from the panel. It's stuffed sort of full for something that should contain only a key.

When I open it up there is a ton of paperwork inside, all written in  handwriting I don't recognize. I don't know what it means, but I'm  guessing if I hid it, it must be important. I dig farther down, finding a  key that looks nothing like a key. It's got the handle part, but the  end looks like it belongs inside a computer. I think it's a high-tech  key. It probably has a microchip in it-spies always say the word  microchip like it means something. I honestly can't say what a microchip  is. I don't even care slightly.

At the very bottom there is a letter. It's written in my handwriting.

I don't know who to address this to. I don't know who will find it. A me in the future, perhaps.

My name is Andrea Olson. I have discovered my name is actually Samantha  Barnes. Anyone who knows me dies. Everyone who loves me is lying. I have  to write this to you because I am about to lose my memories again.  Whatever you do, don't fall for that one.

Trust no one. I made that mistake already.

There is a safe-deposit box in Turin, Italy, with some evidence in it. I  went there, and before I could even get the box opened, a man tried to  kill me. Something terrible is happening to me. I am covered in scars,  and I don't know who I am. There's also a man chasing me. He says his  name is Rory and he used to be my lover, but I don't believe him. He  makes my skin crawl. He keeps asking me to take him to my father's  house. If he did love me he would never ask that. Whatever you do, don't  tell anyone when you leave for the security box. Just go there alone. I  made the mistake of trusting Simon, my boyfriend. He's a liar too, and I  don't think his name is Simon. I think it's Benjamin Dash, but I'm not  sure. Whatever is in that box, he wants it. So does Rory. I wanted to  find it and destroy it, so I could be free of them all.         

     



 

I have no advice for you except to go and destroy what's in that box. I  have lost this battle. I am here to say good-bye to my aunt, but she  isn't here. I remember her and this house. I remember so many things  that make no sense.

I hope you remember me!

I don't know what to think of it. Clearly I didn't get the whole story from Derek last time. I just panicked and went rogue.

The only intriguing part of the entire letter is that Rory and I have  met before. He knew I was on the run with Derek? So his pretending to  see me for the first time in years was all an act.

Of course it was. He acted so nonchalant when he met me. He didn't run  to me and hug me. He entered that office and was as cool as a cucumber.  He was expecting me to be alive. He was expecting me to be with Derek.

I feel like I have more questions than anything. But I have one answer  that I didn't before. I need to go to the safe-deposit box alone. I  contemplate opening the ladder and climbing down that way, but there's a  bad feeling inside me. My eyes glance at the window I always left from.  It's awfully high up, but I know I've done it many times.

Deciding it's better to be scared of heights than it is to be caught by  the two men in the sedan out front, I open the back window to the attic  and climb onto the roof. Clinging to the envelope, I refuse to look  anywhere but the place my feet have to go. I hurry down the back roof,  hopping the two feet down onto the awning over the back deck. From there  I walk to the end of it and jump. My feet tingle from the four-foot  jump, and I could throw up if I gave it a second thought, but my heart  is racing. I have brought the magical key of doom into the real world.  The key everyone wants is right here in my hand. If I get caught, I am  screwed.

I hurry through the yards back to the car, fighting the terrible feeling I have that I am making a giant fucking mistake.

Getting to Italy isn't hard. Getting out of the United States without  Rory finding me is. I use the passport and credit card Derek gave me  when we were going to Austria.

I choose JFK as my airport, assuming it's so busy they won't be looking  for me there. I catch the red-eye out, completely exhausted and, oddly  enough, comfortable with sleeping on a jetliner.

When we land my eyes are aching, my heart is broken into a thousand  pieces, and my mind doesn't stop wandering. But I drag myself from my  seat and stumble down the aisle. Flight attendants smile and greet me,  but I don't give a rat's ass about a single thing in the world. Derek is  either dead or dying or sick. Binx is in a kennel, and he only ever  lasts about a week. So I am on borrowed time with that one. Angie might  be in danger. Pat is in danger. And whatever the hell is in that  safety-deposit box is a risk I can't afford anymore.

A man ahead of me has his iPhone hanging from his bag. I walk closer to  him, wiggling my fingers and watching the phone. It's a crazy idea but I  reach up, slipping it from the bag, nudging him as I pocket it. He  looks back, and I offer a sheepish grin. "Sorry."