Chapter 7 - THE NIGHT CHICAGO TURNED AGAINST THEM
Tomas answered the phone.
“Talk.”
A voice shouted from the other end.
Willa couldn’t make out the words.
Tomas’s expression hardened.
“Get everyone out.”
He listened.
“No.”
“Forget the warehouse.”
Another pause.
“People first.”
He ended the call.
Everett watched him from the bed.
Tomas looked toward Sterling.
“Warehouse Nine just exploded.”
Sterling smiled.
Tomas crossed the room.
“One of my men was inside.”
“Occupational hazard.”
Tomas punched him.
Sterling fell.
Blood immediately ran from his mouth.
Tomas grabbed his collar.
“You want a war?”
Sterling laughed through the blood.
“You’re already in one.”
Everett whispered.
“Tomas.”
The room went silent.
Tomas released Sterling.
Everett struggled to lift his head.
“People.”
Tomas understood.
“I’m getting them out.”
Everett shook his head.
His eyes moved toward Sterling.
“Families.”
Tomas went still.
Then he grabbed his phone.
“Damn it.”
Willa looked at him.
“What?”
“Sterling knows where everyone’s families live.”
Another phone rang.
Then another.
One of Tomas’s men answered.
“Reyes.”
His expression collapsed.
“What address?”
Tomas took the phone.
Willa returned her attention to Everett.
“You need a hospital.”
Everett immediately moved his finger twice.
No.
“You can’t stay here.”
Two.
“Everett, your body has been poisoned for months.”
He looked directly at her.
“No hospital.”
His voice was weak, but the words were clear.
Tomas ended the call.
“He’s right.”
Willa looked at him.
“How?”
“Sterling controls people at St. Ambrose.”
Whitfield’s face changed.
Willa noticed.
“So that’s where you would take him.”
Whitfield said nothing.
“Isn’t it?”
Sterling laughed.
Willa understood.
St. Ambrose wasn’t simply the hospital that had destroyed her career.
It was part of the machine.
She looked at Whitfield.
“How many?”
He stayed silent.
Willa stepped toward him.
“How many patients?”
“What are you talking about?”
“How many people did you kill?”
Sterling looked bored.
“Willa.”
She ignored him.
“Harold Fisk.”
“Everett.”
“Who else?”
Whitfield’s eyes moved toward Sterling.
Willa caught it.
Sterling was the one he feared.
She lowered her voice.
“You’re going to prison.”
Whitfield scoffed.
“So is everyone in this room.”
“Maybe.”
“But there’s a difference.”
She pointed toward Sterling.
“He’s already planning how to blame you.”
Sterling’s smile faded.
Whitfield looked at him.
Willa continued.
“You think he’s going to take responsibility?”
“No.”
“He’ll say you acted alone.”
“That the medication was your decision.”
“That the forged medical records were yours.”
“That Harold Fisk was your mistake.”
Whitfield’s jaw tightened.
Sterling spoke sharply.
“Enough.”
Willa smiled.
There.
She had touched something.
She walked closer to Whitfield.
“And when Everett dies?”
“He’ll say the doctor did it.”
Sterling stood.
“Shut up.”
Whitfield looked at him.
“Would you?”
Sterling stared back.
Willa said nothing.
The seed had been planted.
Tomas approached Everett.
“We need to leave.”
Everett nodded faintly.
“To where?” Willa asked.
“A safe house.”
Sterling laughed.
“You really think I don’t know every safe house Everett ever owned?”
Tomas smiled.
“Not this one.”
Twenty minutes later, Everett was loaded into an unmarked medical van through an underground garage.
Tomas insisted Sterling come with them.
Whitfield too.
Willa sat beside Everett.
Outside, the Kane estate disappeared behind them.
For the first time since the forced wedding, she was leaving the property.
But her mother was still missing.
Willa looked at Tomas.
“Ruth.”
He nodded.
“I have people searching.”
“You said that hours ago.”
“I know.”
“She has dementia.”
“I know.”
“She could be terrified.”
“I know.”
Willa’s voice broke.
“You don’t know.”
Everett’s hand moved.
Willa looked down.
His fingers were trying to reach hers.
She took his hand.
Everett squeezed weakly.
Willa looked at him.
He whispered.
“Find her.”
“I will.”
Everett shook his head.
“I will.”
Willa stared.
“You can barely breathe.”
His eyes hardened.
“Still mine.”
“What?”
“Problem.”
Even now, he was trying to take responsibility.
Willa squeezed his hand.
“She became your problem when you married me?”
Something close to a smile appeared.
“Apparently.”
Willa almost laughed.
It was the first moment of warmth either of them had felt in days.
Then the van slammed sideways.
Metal screamed.
Willa was thrown against Everett’s bed.
“Ambush!” Tomas shouted.
Gunfire hammered against the armored side panels.
The driver swerved.
Sterling smiled from where his hands were zip-tied.
“I told you.”
Tomas drew his weapon.
“Everybody down!”
Another vehicle rammed them.
Everett’s monitor alarmed.
Willa covered his body.
The rear doors shook under gunfire.
Tomas fired through a side port.
The van accelerated.
A black SUV pulled alongside them.
Willa saw a masked gunman lowering his window.
“Tomas!”
He turned.
Too late.
The gunman fired.
The driver screamed.
The van veered across the road.
They smashed through a barrier.
Willa saw black water beyond the windshield.
Lake Michigan.
The van tipped.
For one suspended second, nobody moved.
Then everything rolled.
Glass shattered.
Metal screamed.
Willa lost Everett’s hand.
May you like
The van crashed upside down into freezing water.
And began to sink.
