Page 30

Chapter Twenty-Nine

–––

Each Dawn I Die

Grimes froze. My mother pushed back her chair and staggered to her feet. Her voice pitched an octave higher than normal as she exclaimed, “What’s happening, Emily? Why is Gregory Grimes here?”

“Get out of here, Mom,” I said. “I’ll see you after.”

“After what?” Fists clenched, she cried, “Emily, I demand to know what’s happening!”

“You have just made a terrible mistake, young lady,” Grimes growled, his voice low and menacing. Around us, the rest of the crowd had risen to their feet. People were pulling out canisters of pepper spray and tasers. The crowd of elderly folks scattered throughout the room turned out to be a more motley assortment of ages, made up to appear older. They formed a rough semicircle around us, blocking the main exit.

“It’s funny,” I said. “That’s almost exactly what Gunnar said right before we killed him.”

Grimes fell still. “What did you say?”

“You killed someone?” my mom gasped.

“Seriously, Mom, get out of here!” I snarled. To Grimes, I said, “That’s right, fuckwad, I killed your son. And now I’m going to kill you.”

“You most certainly will not.”

Shit . I turned my head slightly to see Grace standing in the archway, hands on her hips. “I told you to stay out of this.”

“He’s my father.” Grace walked toward us, limping slightly. As she reached the people on the outer edge of the circle, they shifted to let her pass. “And I will handle him.”

“Yeah, well, hell of a job you were doing,” I said. “Because it seemed more like you were about to become his next victim.”

“I would never hurt my own daughter,” Grimes said. “I was merely going to teach her a lesson.”

“I would have stopped him,” Grace insisted. “In my own way.”

“We didn’t have seventeen years to spare,” I scoffed. “I’ve got a wedding to get to.”

“Give me the gun, Amber,” Grace said, reaching for it. “Then get everyone out of here and call the police. I will make sure Father ends up in custody.”

I hesitated. “That’s not the plan.”

“It is now.”

Grace stood a couple feet away, arm extended. She looked exhausted. The dark circles under her eyes had deepened, and her pallor was even worse than it had been yesterday. Whatever her dad had subjected her to had clearly taken a toll.

But she also had determination in her eyes, without even a twinge of fear. So maybe she’d overcome her terror. Maybe she could actually handle him. “Okay,” I said, relenting and offering the gun. “But be—”

Grimes moved swiftly, like a snake. Before Grace could grab it, he snatched the gun from my palm and turned it on me.

———

“Emily!” my mother shrieked from the archway.

I couldn’t answer, staring down the barrel. Grace had frozen as well. Arms out, she said, “Don’t do it, Father.”

“Plan B!” I shouted, watching Grimes’s finger tighten on the trigger. As I raised my hands defensively, colored balls flew toward us. Grimes’s eyes widened as the air around us suddenly erupted in technicolor smoke.

“Everyone, run!” I screamed, ducking down. The gun went off, too close. Coughing, I pulled my silk neck scarf over my mouth and fumbled for the café counter behind me. Finding it, I groped my way along to the door that led to a service hallway. As I opened it, I felt someone at my shoulder: Grace.

“Where on earth are you going?” Grace demanded. “We need to stop him!”

“With what?” I said, grabbing her hand. “Don’t be an idiot. C’mon!”

I dragged her down a utilitarian back hallway. At the very end was a set of double doors. We’d nearly reached them when the service door popped open behind us. Glancing back, I saw Grimes storming toward us, his face a furious mask. He raised the gun again, aiming at me.

“I can stop him,” Grace insisted, trying to yank free.

“The hell you can!” I retorted. “You’re a lot of things, but none of them is bulletproof.” I threw open the door at the end of the hallway and physically hauled her into the small room beyond it.

Automatic lights flickered on overhead. Grace swore, then spun on me. “Well, I hope you’re happy. You’ve led us into a dead end.”

I swallowed hard—she was right. We were standing in a small rectangular storeroom the size and shape of a shipping container that was filled with boxes of cleaning supplies stacked on shelving.

The only way out was the door we’d entered through. The same door that now was slowly opening. I shrank back against the far wall as Grimes stepped inside. He grinned at us and said, “Well, now, girls. Time to teach you some manners.”