I was careful not to step in the blood. There was a hall off the kitchen that led back toward the laundry room. The door was shut and I heard another noise. Gun held level, I slowly pushed it open.
Sitting toward the back of the room was Maron’s daughter.
She blinked at me. “The bad men were here,” she said.
“It’s okay,” I answered, moving toward her. She flinched away. “It’s okay. I’m going to call for help.” I knelt down in front of her. “Do you understand?”
She nodded. She was maybe ten years old with frizzy red hair and freckles. The poor fucking girl.
“I’m going to call someone. But first, I’m taking you to your room. Is that okay?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Close your eyes. Close them tight.”
“Where are mommy and daddy?”
I shook my head. “Just close your eyes.”
She squeezed them shut. I took her and picked her up. I quickly left the room, ran through the kitchen, and took her upstairs. I found her bedroom and deposited her on the bed.
“Stay here until the police come, okay?”
“Okay,” she said. “I will.”
“Don’t go downstairs.”
“I won’t. Will mommy and daddy be back soon?”
“Yeah, sweetie. Soon. Just stay here.”
I didn’t have the fucking balls to tell her the truth.
I left her room, pulling it shut behind me. I walked into the master bedroom, found their landline, and dialed 9-1-1. I told the operator that there had been a murder at Maron’s house, gave her the address, and then hung up.
I went out front, got into my car, and left.
That was the real fucking shit back there. That was what really happened when the mob destroyed lives so fucking callously. This was real life and in the real world, there were always repercussions beyond what you could ever possibly imagine.
That girl’s life was destroyed because some mafia bastards wanted to get back at Maron. Maybe it was for helping me, I couldn’t say. But either way, that girl was going to suffer for it. Once all of this was over, I was going to do my best to help that girl. That was a fucking promise.
I couldn’t get sidetracked. I couldn’t get distracted. There was no way for me to help that girl if I couldn’t get through what was coming next.
I had to get Piper back, and I knew where she was. Tony had to pay for what he did to Maron and Maron’s family. Tony had to pay for what he did to me.
Most of all, Tony had to pay for what he did to Piper.
As I sped forward, Maron’s gun in my lap, I knew I didn’t have much time. I had to hurry to get to that warehouse before Tony did something I couldn’t fix.
I wasn’t going to lose anyone else. I wasn’t going to let Piper die.
I couldn’t let her die. She was everything to me.
I drove as fast as I could, pushing the old truck’s engine, rage pouring through me. I was going to tear Tony to pieces.
He had no fucking clue what was coming for him.
Chapter 25
Piper
We drove for hours and Tony didn’t say a word the whole time. It wasn’t like I tried to draw him out in conversation either, but still. It was creepy the way he just stared at the road, slowly bleeding down his arm, this weird smile on his face the whole time.
I wanted to scream and run, but he never slowed down, never stopped the car. There was nothing I could do except watch the miles tick past and breathe what were probably my last breaths.
Soon the landscape began to change. We moved from the southern tip of Iowa back toward Chicago and the top of the state. Things began to seem less rural, less spread out. We drove all fucking day and a large chunk of the night before finally I began to recognize some of the suburban features of Chicago’s outlying counties.
“We’re nearly there,” he said suddenly, surprising me. “We’re nearly there,” he repeated.
He lapsed back into silence. I stared at him, horrified, but he didn’t say another word.
We drove for about a half hour, getting closer to the city. We pulled into an industrial area, except it seemed totally abandoned. There were factories everywhere, large, warehouse-like buildings with smokestacks and winding roads. Tony drove us down a long, empty road before suddenly pulling off and turning toward a building.
It said “J&J Shipping” in white on the front in big, bold letters. The paint was chipped and peeling, and I could tell that nobody worked at this place and probably hadn’t for a long time. Tony drove the car right up to the front door and pulled over.
“Out,” he said. He climbed out of his side and I climbed out of mine.
I knew it was stupid, but I started running. I ran as fast as I could toward the road, screaming my head off for help. I screamed and screamed and ran, trying to get away.