“I-I’m sorry.”
A red light blares in front of him, and the car screeches to a halt. Frank tosses his head, slapping his cheeks with so much violence that I back farther into the seat.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Trying to wake up. They had me on pretty strong painkillers thanks to your gangster husband.” He sends me a withering look.
“Should you even be driving?” I whisper hoarsely.
“I’m fine.”
The light burns green and Frank floors it, taking us on the highway.
“Why are we getting on the highway?” I say in a loud voice, hoping the phone will pick it up.
“Relax. You’ll be fine. We’re just taking a quick trip over the river.”
Why does that sound like a threat?
“How did you get Étienne from his grandparents?”
He shrugs. “It was easy. Flash a badge. Yell in their faces. They kept calm until I took the baby from them.”
I fight to keep my voice restrained. “Frank, what did you do to them?”
“Nothing permanent.”
I’m going to die.
It keeps pounding in my head, an obsessive voice, growing louder and louder all the time.
The car jolts as we drive over Champlain Bridge with a closed lane on the right. Frank ignores the orange cones and merges into the empty lane as cars zoom past us.
“Frank, what are you doing? Why are you stopping here? Frank!”
The car lurches to a halt and I look to my right. It has to be a hundred-meter drop, at least, into the murky river.
Ignoring me completely, he opens the door. The noise from the traffic outside blasts into the car, and Étienne stirs from his sleep and whimpers. I unfasten my seat belt as Frank walks around the car slowly, a steely look in his eyes, and I lunge at the backseat, ripping the restraints on Étienne.
“NO!”
He yanks open the door so violently that it bangs on the metal bridge. I scream as he takes my baby from the car seat and holds him to his chest. He’s close—way too close to the edge. I scramble out of the car, and when I straighten Frank aims a gun at my chest, his eyes shining.
I’m going to die.
“I’ll take care of him. I swear.”
“NO! PLEASE DON’T!”
Étienne squalls, his little face screwed up in agony as he lets out a long wail.
“I screwed up!” I scream into the howling wind. “I made mistakes. That doesn’t mean I have to die for them!”
“Too many mistakes.”
The black muzzle rises an inch and I move backward, my senses screaming.
“NO! You don’t understand!”
Make him think you changed your mind.
He wipes a stray tear from his eyes.
“What don’t I understand? That you prefer a gangster over me? That you’d choose this hell for your son instead of safety?”
My back hits the metal railing. Angry wind whips at my hair, almost as if it knows my death is imminent.
“You have no idea what he did to me! I was scared.”
“I gave you plenty of chances to do the right thing.” He approaches me until the cool metal of the gun kisses my forehead.
My whole body shakes, waiting for a blast, an explosion of pain, a roaring sound, and then what?
Darkness.
“I’m weak. I was afraid to stand up to the mob twice. I got away with it once. I didn’t think I would be able to get away with it again.”
His eyes soften. “I told you. I would have protected you.”
“I know. Please don’t kill me. I’ll—I’ll do anything you want, just please don’t take me away from my son!”
Frank’s eyes pinch shut, affected by the emotion in my voice. I pray to whatever God there is out there that someone shows up soon.
“I’ll be whatever you want me to be, I promise!”
Tears squeeze through his eyes. “I just want her back. I have to make it right.”
He holds the baby against his chest with one hand, the other hand holding the gun, which slowly lowers.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see a car rolling toward us, running over the orange cones. My heart leaps when I recognize it.
Frank sees the car, wheels around with the gun aimed in front of him.
“Frank, the baby!”
He seems to forget there’s a baby against his chest. Luc bursts out of the car, his torso hidden by the car door. Anguish twists his face.
“GIVE ME MY SON!”
Boucher’s arm rises.
“NO!”
I grab his arm, yanking it down. “It’s too dangerous! Give me Étienne!”
The wind swallows my words, and I have to scream them again.
He shakes his head.
“DROP YOUR GUN!”
“Frank, give me the baby!”
Luc’s panicked face meets mine. He doesn’t know what to do. The moment he drops his weapon, he’ll die.