“There’s a diner down the road. They make some pretty good eggs, and we have…some things to talk about.”
A small pit begins to form in my stomach.
My mother.
I nod. “Okay. But what am I going to wear? My dress from last night?”
Magnus grins. “There are some of my clothes here from when I was younger. I bet you could fit into some of those.”
“The tomboy look?” I suggest. “You sure you wanna see me in that?”
“Baby,” Magnus says, taking me into his arms, “it is absolutelyimpossiblefor you to look anything other than beautiful in anything.”
The diner isempty except for us and one other couple sitting by the door. Magnus and I take the booth in the back so we can talk without being overheard. After such a wonderful night and morning, I’m a bit on edge about what this discussion is going to be, but Magnus is right about one thing: The eggs are great here.
“So where is he keeping her?” he asks. “Your mother?”
“He calls it The Castle,” I reply, the words like a toxin in my mouth. “We stayed at his home where he lived, he called it The Palace—” Magnus scoffs and shakes his head. “I know, disgusting. But The Palace is where he keeps things he can’t have around him in case the police decide to raid. Illegal things. It’s well fortified and filled with his men. That’s where he keeps my mom.”
My hands are shaking as I hold my knife and fork. This conversation is bringing up things I’ve tried desperately not to think of in quite some time. The thought of my mother there with Vincent, captive, unable to leave because of what he’s done to her…
“All right,” Magnus replies. “I’ll get her out.”
“I don’t know, Magnus,” I sigh. “Maybe…maybe it’s too dangerous, you know? Maybe I should just go back. I mean, she’s my mom. If she gets hurt because I ran off—”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Josie,” Magnus says firmly, taking my hand. The tears are already welling up in my eyes. “You’re not going anywhere. Vincent isn’t going to win. Understand?”
I nod, too choked up to speak.
“Thank you.”
6
Magnus
Right where he left them,I think as I pull away the old panel of floorboards in the kitchen beside the fridge, exposing the crate of firearms. It must have been there for at least sixteen years now, and as I lift it out of the compartment, I find myself doing something I can’t remember doing more than once or twice in my life: thanking my father.
I hear Josie’s footsteps behind me about to enter the room and call out to her.
“Don’t come in here, baby.” I don’t want her to see this—these instruments of violence and death. She’s already experienced enough hardship in her life; she doesn’t need to be reminded of what’s going to occur today. Protecting her doesn’t just mean keeping her physically safe. It also means making sure she is no longer tormented by the life she’s been forced to lead since encountering Vincent.
All I want is for her to be happy and at peace. As long as she’s with me, she’ll never hold a gun, so why does she need to see a whole crate of them like I’m a soldier getting ready for war?
She doesn’t.
I take two pistols over to the counter and check them. They’ve been sealed and stored so well over the years that not an ounce of dirt or dust has gotten on them. I take them and three magazines of ammunition and place one in my waistband, and the rest in a duffel bag and head into the living room where Josie is seated on the couch.
With her hair all messy and her make-up having been washed off in the shower, she looks completely natural and absolutely adorable. And even with a baggy T-shirt, there’s no hiding how great her tits are.
“You look unbelievably sexy,” I tell her.
Josie blushes and twists her hips bashfully. “Not silly?”
I step close and take her in my arms. “If silly means sexy, then absolutely.”
Josie giggles, warming me up inside. For a moment, I forget what I have to do today. If only I could just run away with her. If only Vincent hadn’t cornered us into this impossible situation where he’s holding her mom hostage.
“You know what I think? I thinks Magnus means protector,” she suggests, gently pressing a palm against my chest. “I don’t know if that’s true, but to me it is. What do you think about that, sir?”