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He spent an entire day up here, banging around the playroom, drilling holes in the ceiling and walls, pointing out the best placement for maximum visibility, upselling me on products that were top-of-the-line, quizzing me on my security system because “maybe it’s time for an upgrade.” He even installed the nanny cam app on my phone, then dragged it onto the third page, so it would be with all the other house stuff.
And today, hechosethis room. He brought us here on purpose. Strapping the kids to the couch, questioning me about Cam, ordering me around. Even where he’s standing now, one foot planted on the corner of the rug, his body pointed into the room, puts his uncovered face in all three shots. Everything about this seems intentional.
He wants Cam to see. He wants him to watch what’s about to happen on his little screen while he’s rushing to get here with the ransom.
“But that won’t help you with your hospital bill. A pile of cash that big will be a red flag. You’ll get caught. What happens when the police show up at your door? They’ll confiscate the money, and then where will you be? Who will help Gigi then?”
“She’ll be fine. At home with a new set of lungs.”
“Buthow? You just told me her insurance won’t pay for the transplant unless you can pay for the antirejection drugs.”
“It’s taken care of. I’ve taken care of it. And we’re getting off track. Let’s not forget that I wouldn’t be standing here if Cam had kept up his end of the deal. Heowesme this money.”
Frustration rises, hot and choking in my chest. “You’ll get arrested! There’s got to be a better way.”
Sebastian’s brows shift into a sharp V. “You don’t think I’ve tried everything? I’ve written letters, I’ve filed a million appeals, I even showed up at Channel 7 and begged that reporter Juanita Moore to do one of those investigative deep dives. She said the story wasn’t ‘fresh’ enough to be interesting to the public. I’m out of options. This right here is the very last one, and I’m prepared to see it to the end in order to save my baby girl. You’d do the same if you were in my position.”
I look at Beatrix, then think of Baxter across the street, and my eyes water. I’d tear my lungs out for them, rip out my still-beating heart. “You’re right. I would. In a heartbeat.”
“So get in the chair.”
I shake my head, planting myself deeper into the one next to Beatrix. “Let me help. Let me call Gordon. Maybe he can help you and Gigi.”
My offer straightens his spine with anger, with indignation. “It’s too late! This isn’t some silly story where you can slap on a happy ending. This is my life, and you can’t even imagine the shit I have to go through. Have you ever stuck your card in an ATM and have itnotspit out cash?”
Not since college, I think dully, but it seems like an answer I shouldn’t admit out loud.
I think about where he left the gun, on the table to my right, but there’s no way I could get there first. Not with Beatrix in the way, with Sebastian’s body parked a good three feet closer. Better to keep quiet and wait.
Sebastian’s scowl says he knows the answer. “That’s what I thought. So you keep on living your American dream up here in country club fairy-tale land, but enjoy it while it lasts because life can turn on a dime. Believe me when I say there’s no safety net to catch you when you fall. For people like me, life is not something to enjoy but to survive. Your American dream is my nightmare.”
“It’s true, I can’t possibly understand what you’re going through, and I can’t be your safety net, but I can help you get one. Think what you want about Cam and me, but we have influence. People listen to us. If we call up the news stations and make a stink about what is happening to you and your daughter, we can change your situation. We can start a GoFundMe and make sure everyone who comes through the restaurants knows about it. We can help.”
“A GoFundMe, like we haven’t tried that,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Last time I looked there were six of those things, andmaybewe scrounged up enough money to pay for three months of treatment, and then what? On the fourth month her body rejects the lungs, and it’s a death worse than what she’s going through now.”
“There has to be something I can do.”
Sebastian shakes his head, gestures to the empty chairs on either side of me. “You can stop acting like you give a shit and get in the damn chair. Cam will be here any minute.”
The panicky feeling returns, a vibration in my bones, a hot itch just under my skin. “Sebastian, please.Pleaselet me help you.”
I stare up at him, and it’s so obvious to me now, the violent loathing in his eyes. The ugly anger, a hatred that all afternoon I thought was meant for me, but it’s not really. It’s for Cam. And the second he gets here, the instant he barrels up those stairs and into this room, the bullets will start flying.
And Sebastian won’t be aiming for Cam.
He’ll aim at me. At Beatrix.
An eye for an eye. Our daughter for his.
Today—all of it—it’s about getting even.
C A M
6:54 p.m.
“Where’d your colleagues go?” I squint into the rearview mirror, hoping to pick out the two big bouncers in the car on my bumper, but the rain is really coming down now. There’s nothing but glare in the glass. “Is that them behind us? I can’t tell.”
Nick twists around on the passenger’s seat, checking the back window. “Not unless they suddenly turned eighty and white. They passed us ages ago.” He wriggles his cell from a pocket on his leather jacket. “Lemme see where they’re at.”