Gone Too Far Page 76

He fired the weapon, relaxed at the sharp ping that sent the bullet through the other man’s skull. Then he got out of the car.

Now to end this.

38

Today

Saturday, April 17

7:20 a.m.

Birmingham

I don’t want to die.

Turning fourteen hadn’t made her as brave as she’d thought. She had to run . . . she should never have taken that call. She should have stayed home and not sneaked out of the house.

She needed a way to contact her mom and . . .

The car door opened.

It was too late.

Alice slid into the back seat of the car. She glanced at Tori.

Tori tried to act normal as the driver pulled away from the curb in front of Alice’s house. Stay calm. She didn’t want Alice to see how terrified she was. She had to play along at least for a while longer. The only thing she could think to do was pray. Didn’t matter whether God had ever answered her prayers before or if she didn’t really know how. Praying was her one option at the moment.

It wasn’t like she could call for help. After picking up Tori a block away from her house, Alice had thrown Tori’s cell phone out the window. She should have started screaming then. She should have shouted for the driver to stop. At first, she’d been too shocked at what Alice had done to react. Then she’d realized she couldn’t do either of those things . . . not if Sarah needed her.

Alice had explained that Sarah had slipped out of the hospital and run away because her parents wanted to send her to a psychiatric hospital. Alice had insisted Sarah intended to try suicide again, but she’d persuaded her to wait until they could talk face-to-face.

Tori couldn’t ignore the possibility that Alice was telling the truth this time.

A glance at the black bag on the floorboard reminded Tori of another reason she had to try to be calm for a while longer. That big knife was right there in that bag. She’d sneaked a look inside while Alice had gone into her house for something she’d forgotten. If Tori dared to scream or to tell the driver . . . Alice would probably kill her before he could even stop the car—if he even stopped. The driver may have been hired by her family. Maybe he was a killer too. Either way, that knife was intended for hurting someone. Tori was not going to let Alice get away with hurting anyone else.

“Our destination has changed,” Alice said to the driver. “Birmingport Road. I’ll tell you where to turn.”

“What the hell is out there?” the driver demanded, speaking for the first time since Tori got into the car. “I’ll have to call in the change. Your card—”

“Keep the charge on the card.” Alice dug into the pocket of her jeans and pulled out a wad of cash, large bills, twenties and fifties. “You think this might take care of the extra trouble?”

The driver shot another glare at Alice in the rearview mirror. “I have to call it in.”

Alice laughed. “There’s five hundred dollars here. Maybe you can make an exception this time.”

He shifted his attention to the street and kept driving. His silence confirmed his agreement. Tori’s heart sank.

Alice rolled her eyes before leaning down, picking up the bag, and tucking the money inside.

Tori’s heart thumped harder and harder as a new wave of fear crashed against her. Why hadn’t she gotten out back there while Alice was in her house? She could have run. Even if the driver had chased her. She should have tried. What was wrong with her? She had allowed Alice to convince her Sarah needed them. After all the lies she had told, how could Tori believe her this time?

Now she was probably going to die. For all she knew Sarah was already dead.

No. No one else was going to die.

Anger shot through Tori. “Where is Sarah?” The thin, not-so-steady voice was hers. The words had burst out of her. Tori blinked, stared at Alice. “When you called, you told me she’d run away from the hospital and was in trouble. We’re supposed to be going to help her. Where is she?”

Alice exhaled a dramatic sigh as if she had no patience for Tori’s questions. “I told her to wait at the warehouse. It was the only place I could think for her to hide. Her parents would never look there.”

“At the port?” Tori demanded, her bravado rallying. “How did she get there? She couldn’t have walked that far.” Hitchhiking would be too dangerous. Sarah would never do that.

Alice nodded to the driver. “How do you think she got there? She called an Uber. Don’t be stupid, Tori. She’s our friend. We’re going to help her. That’s what friends do.”

Tori held back the other words she wanted to shout. How could she not have realized the guy behind the wheel was just an Uber driver? She really could have run, and he probably wouldn’t have cared. She was an idiot. She had to think. Alice could be lying. Why would Sarah run away and ask Alice for help? Why hadn’t she called Tori? They had known each other the longest—way longer. Why hadn’t the police had a guard on her hospital room? Sarah had confessed to pushing Brendal. Wouldn’t the police be watching her or something? Tori squeezed her eyes shut. The whole thing—the whole story was some kind of crazy lie that Alice had probably convinced Sarah to believe. No way had Sarah pushed anyone.

Tori understood now what kind of liar Alice was. But she couldn’t risk letting Sarah down if she needed her. Ignoring Alice’s call hadn’t been an option any more than not seeing this through was.

But she should have told her mom instead of leaving a note and sneaking out. If this was another lie . . .

“I don’t believe you.”

Tori froze. She’d said the words. Out loud. To Alice.

Alice held the bag closer to her chest; one hand slid inside. “Just shut up, Tori.”

Tori dared to meet her gaze. Alice’s eyes were wild and fierce. She was not kidding.

“We’re doing this together,” Alice said calmly. “Just like we planned.” She even smiled.

Probably for the driver’s sake, since he watched in the rearview mirror.

And they hadn’t planned anything. Alice had told Tori what they had to do, and Tori had done it.

Tori said another hasty prayer. Since he apparently didn’t work for her family, she hoped the driver wasn’t one of those people who didn’t like getting involved.

Help me, please.

Tori stared at that rearview mirror and silently repeated the words over and over. Maybe her eyes would somehow telegraph her plea to the man.

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