Chapter 12 - THE LAST RUN
Vince’s SUV tore down the mountain road.
I followed.
Grace held the dashboard.
“Slow down!”
“No.”
“You die, Sophia loses you twice!”
That reached me.
I eased off slightly.
Marcus tracked Vince’s phone remotely.
“He’s heading toward the Canadian border.”
“Why?”
“He has money there.”
“Block the road.”
“Already working on it.”
Snow began falling harder.
Vince’s SUV turned onto an old logging road.
I followed.
The road narrowed.
Trees pressed in.
Then his vehicle stopped.
Vince stepped out holding a gun.
I stopped fifty feet away.
“Stay here,” I told Grace.
“Julian—”
“Please.”
I got out with empty hands.
Vince raised the gun.
“You should’ve left it buried.”
“My daughter wasn’t buried.”
“I saved her.”
“You stole two years.”
“I saved her!”
“From Crowe, yes.”
His hand shook.
“But after Crowe was gone?”
He said nothing.
“You kept her because you were ashamed.”
His face collapsed slightly.
“I loved her.”
“You had no right.”
“I watched her learn to read again after the concussion. I stayed up when she had nightmares.”
“You let her think I was dead.”
“You were dangerous.”
The truth hurt.
“I was.”
He looked surprised.
I continued.
“I was dangerous because I thought fear was the same thing as respect.”
His gun lowered an inch.
“Elena wanted out.”
“I know.”
“She came to me.”
“I know.”
“She begged me to help.”
“I know.”
He started crying.
The first time I had ever seen Vincent Moretti cry.
“I never meant for Sophia to get hurt.”
“But she did.”
“I tried to fix it.”
“You don’t fix a child by stealing her father.”
His jaw tightened.
“You wouldn’t have changed.”
“Maybe not.”
I looked toward the snowy trees.
“But she deserves the chance to decide who I become.”
Vince lowered the gun.
Then a shot cracked through the forest.
Vince jerked.
Blood appeared on his coat.
I turned.
Detective Crowe stood between the trees.
He had escaped federal custody during transport.
His gun moved toward me.
“Loose ends,” he said.
Grace screamed from the car.
I dove behind Vince’s SUV.
Crowe fired again.
Vince collapsed.
I grabbed his fallen pistol.
Crowe circled.
“This should’ve ended two years ago.”
I fired toward a tree.
He ducked.
“Why come back?” I shouted.
“Because the girl can identify me!”
My blood froze.
“Sophia saw you?”
“She woke up in the ER.”
There it was.
Sophia remembered him.
Crowe fired.
The bullet struck the SUV.
Then another shot rang out.
Crowe fell.
Grace stood behind my car holding the emergency pistol from the glove compartment.
Her hands shook violently.
“I told you to stay in the car.”
She stared at me.
“You’re welcome.”
Despite everything, I almost laughed.
Behind me, Vince coughed.
I knelt beside him.
He looked at me.
“I’m sorry.”
I said nothing.
He reached inside his coat.
Pulled out Sophia’s passport.
“Take her home.”
May you like
His eyes closed.
And for the first time in years, I chose not to hate a dying man.
