House of Steel (28 page)

“Your mother is an old friend of mine.”

“She’s never mentioned you,” she replied.
There was no way this man was a friend of her mother’s.

“It was a long time ago, and Ann holds a
special place with me.” His words drifted.

“How so?” Delaney asked as she studied his
face, trying to regain any control that she might possibly have.
Although, she doubted there was anything she had control of at this
point.

“That’s all you need to know. If you do what
I tell you, your mother will stay safe. If you don’t, well, you
know the devastating result. Your family would be crushed with her
slow and painful end,” Holston warned as his voice darkened. “And
don’t forget your devoted Mark and precious James, passed out just
down the street.”

The words hallowed her as she closed her
eyes, trying to escape the cot. The room. Holston Parker. She had
put everyone close to her in danger. The pain in her head radiated
through her body ripping through her gut, leaving all of her
exposed.

“But why me? What do you need from me?”
Delaney asked as she slowly opened her eyes to see him standing
next to the cot.

“I need your discretion, Delaney. You’ve
made some huge errors in judgment. These things,” he said as he
moved his hand into his pocket of his pants, retrieving the pink
satin fabric of her mask, “I thought you would clearly have sorted
out by now.” He held the mask from his forefinger and thumb,
allowing it to dangle in front of her eyes.

“By now?” she accused.
How long has he
known me? “
You almost killed me, running me off the road.”

“I didn’t almost kill you. Slowed you down,
that’s all. I’ve been around for a while, being silent, yet
vigilant. But I couldn’t be silent any longer. I needed to step in
to stop the destruction. Do you think that Leighton would have
hired you, a recent graduate, without a little encouragement? A
little negotiating with the President?” He crumpled the fabric into
his hand, squeezing it into a small ball before putting it back
into his pocket. Delaney’s face flushed. It had been a leap being
hired at Leighton, but she thought she had earned the position with
her graduate work and exhibits. Shame scolded her body.

“You’re talented, no doubt about it. I’ve
seen your work,” he added, leaning toward her again, watching the
color drain from her face. “No, not that work. Your paintings. I
admire your painting, as you can see.” He nodded toward the barns
streaked across the room.

“What do you want?” Her eyes focused on the
metal sliding doors on the other end of the room. Her head screamed
to her body to sprint out of the room, to rid Holston Parker from
her life, but her body lie battered and bruised on the cot.

“Are you happy here?” he asked.

“I thought I was.”

“Until?”

“Until this.” She pointed to the streak of
blood dried on the side of her face. “Until that.” She pointed to
her canvases hung in the air to mock her.

“I brought you here because I needed to keep
an eye on you. Make sure Ann’s daughter was staying in line. I
needed to help you and your brother. I brought him here because I
thought he would help you and
me.
” He paused before walking
along the wall near the windows, covered with black tarps. “But
this,” he spread his arms out toward the room, “this was too much.
This was too far. My Evie threatened that boy’s life. She killed
two of my employees. Two of her coworkers, and Joe is gone now,
too. She created a mess that needs to be cleaned up.”

Two? He couldn’t possibly know I killed
one.
Delaney felt the handle of the hatchet in her hands, still
stuck in the man’s skull as she tried to pull it back. The sound of
the metal hitting his skull crawled into her stomach as she pulled
her knees into her chest to cradle them. Her stomach lurched
again.

“That mess that she created. Tell me more
Delaney. After all, this can be the first of many ways you can help
me. See how this works? I help you. You help me. An understanding,”
Holston said as he walked back to the cot. “I’ve found that this is
how all relationships work.”

“But I don’t want a relationship with
you.”

“It’s too late. We already have one. You
see, this could have all been avoided had you not made your errors
in judgment. Need I remind you? First, the mask. Second, the
student. I was trying to help you,” he added. His face was calm and
steady, although she could feel his patience waning. “Gunnar was
supposed to warn that boy. Keep him away from you, but my daughter
took things into her own hands. That boy would have been fine had
it not been for her. How Gunnar managed to split him open is beyond
my understanding and once I find him, he will pay for his error of
threatening that boy’s life. Putting
me
in peril.”

“Too late for that,” she muttered under her
breath.
He didn’t know about Gunnar. Make it three
employees.

“I didn’t quite hear what you said,” he
said, leaning in to her.

“It’s too late for that. That bastard is
gone.”

“Gunnar?” he said, his eyes searching her
for confirmation.

“Yes, Gunnar. The man who killed Richard
Rowan in front of me two days ago. The man who kidnapped me to
question me about Theron. The man who - ”

“Killed Richard Rowan in front of you,”
Holston interrupted. “Where?”

“He stuck a knife in his chest and killed
him in seconds. Why?”

“Where?”

“Joe’s shop. I assumed it was you that
called Joe to get me out of the ditch,” Delaney accused. She felt
the vulnerability seep into her bones as she added, “And you knew
about Richard Rowan.”

“I did. I know quite a few things about you,
Delaney,” he replied as he studied her face. Delaney shuddered,
turning her eyes away from him.
How can I be tied to this
man?
“And how did you feel watching him?”

“Disgusted,” she replied, looking down at
her dirty hands.

“Yet relieved,” he suggested.

“Yes,” she breathed, still unable to look at
his eyes.

“It was warranted. Richard Rowan didn’t have
the right to walk this earth like you and me,” he said.

“And Gunnar did? He did this to me,” Delaney
said, turning to face him. The dried blood ran down the side of her
face from the large welts on her head.

“Gunnar has spent the last twenty years in
redemption. He has saved himself from the sins he committed when he
was young with the work he has done for me, but the time was
nearing. He was straying from his work, resorting back to his old
ways. It was becoming
addictive
,” he replied. “And you know
what that’s like.”

“Whatever sick game this is, I don’t want to
be a part of it. Your friend, Joe, is dead. Gunnar is dead and your
daughter is dying as we sit here.”

He smiled before his eyes became emotionless
again. “Joe was a good man. Elizabeth was a special friend to my
Evie. Special friends are important, aren’t they?” he asked.

James.
The hospital.
She lied
still, cradled on the cot. “Did you make the call to James’s
office?”

“Things were spiraling, as you know. It
seemed necessary. Unsuspecting, caring person that James Anderson
is. I have always been fond of him. He would be a good influence on
you. He doesn’t know, if you were wondering. He’s oblivious to this
all.”

“Stay out of my life,” she whispered.

“The barn?” His eyes darkened.

The barn was important to him. “
Gone.
She burned it to the ground with all three bodies in it.” The words
dripped from her mouth with pleasure.

“Quite a mess to be cleaned up,” he
responded as if a child had spilled a glass of milk on the
table.

“What do you want from me?” Delaney pleaded,
feeling the torture of her pounding head on top of the cot.

“Your discretion.”

“My discretion? If I help you, you’ll leave
my family alone?” Delaney shifted her body weight up, leaning on
her elbows.
I need to negotiate if I ever want to get out of
this monster’s wrath.

“I will promise to leave the rest of your
family alone, except for Ann, of course. I will continue to help
her as I always have,” he replied evenly.
Help?
Holston
Parker had done nothing to help her, except to tear her life apart.
There was no bargaining chip. There was little she could say.

“Mark and James? You will let them go?” she
asked. Her heart slammed against her chest as she thought of Mark
and James passed out in the bar, vulnerable.

“Yes. Mark will continue to work for me, and
you, my dear, will continue to work at the university,” he said,
leaning in again. “And this. Everything that has happened, you will
keep it to yourself. Sounds like a reasonable arrangement, doesn’t
it? You will find I am a reasonable man. Quite powerful, too. I
have many arrangements with various constituents. The police being
one.”

Delaney studied his face, his words
carefully formulated. He was warning Delaney, promising that she
would suffer consequences if she went to the police.
I have no
choice
. The words branded in her mind as a tear rolled down her
cheek.

“How am I supposed to help you?” she asked,
her voice small.

“You already have, my Delaney. You already
have,” Holston answered as his hand tightened around the glass vial
inside his pocket.

34

DAY 4: Sunday, December 21 – 5:45 p.m.

Evie slumped lower, sinking into the sticky
filth of trash bags and grease before silently swinging the cover
toward her. Complete blackness. The nauseating stench of the
industrial garbage permeated into her nostrils as she attempted to
steady her breathing. She winced as she shifted her weight off her
arm. The crinkle of the garbage bags filled the inside of the box.
Evie froze as she listened to the footsteps coming closer. They
paused.

She stopped breathing, feeling the
excruciating pain radiate down her arm. The sound of footsteps
registered again. This time, they were going back to the right.
Ethan was going back the way they both had come from. He was going
back for her. Ethan knew he needed Delaney, not her.

Evie waited, motionless, among the leftover
French fries and half-eaten, stale buns from Atlas Pub. The smell
of moldy, decomposed garbage made her eyes water as she bit down on
her lip. A metallic taste soaked into her mouth before she realized
she was bleeding. Her lungs burned with each breath of the cool,
bacteria-filled air. She moved her right hand slowly up to the
front of her left arm. The searing pain consumed her as her fingers
felt the white gauze that covered the exposed, torn flesh. A
tourniquet had stopped the bleeding. She knew Ethan must have done
it, but the bullet hadn’t gone through, and she needed help.
Someone needed to get the bullet out. She gasped as the fumes
filtered through her airway; she needed air.

“One, two, three, four, five,” Evie
whispered before she rolled to her right side, against the metal
wall. She pushed up, cracking the lid an inch. Her eye poked out to
a dark and empty alley. Evie exhaled again before pushing the lid
higher. With her knife clenched in her teeth, she hoisted herself
with her right arm over the edge of the wall. Her black boots
staggered onto the concrete among the patches of ice. She slid her
hand into the empty pockets of her pants, checking to see if any of
her other belongings remained. Ethan hadn’t discovered her knife in
her knee pocket, but her phone was gone, along with the picture of
Gunnar’s tattoos and her gun. They had pulled right in front of her
loft, so Theron had to be safe; Holston couldn’t make him
disappear. He was too high-profile at this point.

“Be resourceful, Evie,” she whispered as she
looked at the back of Atlas Pub. Mark and James. Ethan had left
them, most likely passed out, if not worse. Exactly what she
needed. She slipped through the door. The clang of the bell dinged
as she moved along the wall, leaning her back against the
“Employees Only” sign. She reached her arm behind her and twisted
the knob, cracking the door open to slip in.

Evie’s hand fumbled against the wall,
feeling for the light switch she knew was on her left. She had been
in the stock room plenty of times before, but this night was
different. Ethan wasn’t here to protect her. To talk to her. To
help her. She was running from him. She flicked the lights on.

“Turn it off,” the voice groaned from the
middle of the room. Mark and James’s bodies were slumped together
on the floor. Silver racks lined with bottles and cases that
surrounded them on all sides. Evie caught movement from Mark, his
body shifting against James.

“Move over,” Mark slurred with his eyes
still shut. Evie waited, watching Mark before his arms stopped
moving. Their bodies were heavy, motionless; Ethan had drugged them
at her request. She crept over to Mark and patted down his jacket.
Nothing. She slid her hands into the left pocket of his jeans.
Nothing. Evie winced as she crouched down and reached her hand
underneath his body. She felt the hard plastic against his jeans,
wedged between the floor and his body. He was lying on his phone.
She knelt down, pushing his body over with her right arm. Just a
few more inches.

“Get off!” Mark yelled as she latched onto
his phone and slid it out from underneath him. She waited, still on
her knees next to him. His eyes moved beneath his lids.

“Mark, it’s V. Everything’s fine,” she
whispered in his ear. He groaned in response before his head
slumped to the ground again. She staggered up to her feet and put
the phone into her pocket. As she was about to turn toward the
door, she caught the shimmer of the racks. Alcohol.

Her boots stumbled to the racks where she
stood, eyeing the crates and bottles of varying shades lined up in
perfect rows. She scanned the bottles until her eyes fell on the
black and white label: Everclear. The 190 proof grain alcohol -
illegal to sell in Wisconsin - stared back at her, calling her. She
pulled the bottle off the shelf, holding it between her legs as she
twisted off the top. Her hand shook as she raised the bottle to her
lips, letting a shot of liquid slide down her throat. It ravaged
her mouth, scalding her before she felt it settle into her
stomach.