It's Complicated

Chapter 21: Kacey Eton

I take a good look at Travis. He has definitely lost a little bit of weight, his right arm is in a sling, and the whole right side of his shirt is red from blood. His brown hair is matted, while his skin is very pale in contrast. He wraps his good arm around me and pulls me into him. In response, I wrap my arms around his neck and hug him. And even in this freezing room, there is a warmth between us. It doesn’t hit me how much I missed him until that moment.

“Sorry, there was a traffic jam,” I say jokingly. He holds me in his left arm. Then he tenses, his eyes glancing to the four corners of the room where I know the cameras are.

“Umm. There are cameras watching us right now,” he says slowly.

“Got that covered,” I say, recalling cutting all of the indoor camera wires while I was sneaking through the ceiling. And diverting all of the guards to the other side of the building was a brilliant idea on Phil’s part. Travis’s body relaxes again. I would like to stay in his arms, but I know we have to get out of here.

“Travis. We need to go, now,” I say. “Do you think you can make it?”

“Do we have another option?” he asks. He tries to lighten his voice.

“Travis,” I say seriously. “Can you make it?”

“Kacey, I have a bad arm, not a bad leg,” he laughs. “So, which way out?”

I turn to look at the ceiling from which I came in. As I turn, I freeze. There are figures standing in the now open door on the opposite wall. I instantly jump away from Travis, my knives already in my hands. The first thought that crosses my mind, is “How much did they see?”

“My my. Look what we have here,” a man says, stepping out of the crowd. I feel my heart stop in my chest when I lay my eyes on him. I know the man. I saw him once, in a memory. Those cold, black eyes being one of the last things I remember. The scar going down his right cheek confirms my suspicion. He is the man who killed my mother and the man who shot me that same day.

“Kacey, is it?” he asks. He seems to ponder this for a minute, and then curiosity crosses his face. My heart beats a little faster. He couldn’t have put it together. He couldn’t!

“I knew a Kacey once,” he reflects. “Adorable little girl. It was a shame, what had to happen to her. But, she did witness a murder.” My fingers tighten on the knives. I want to run, but I can’t leave Travis.

“Let us go,” I instruct the man in a strong voice. He ignores me.

“You know,” he goes on. “I sometimes wonder if she is still alive. The man I sent to take care of her the second time wasn’t always the most reliable.” He cocks his head to one side, the smallest of smiles playing against his lips. “I can’t help but wonder what you’re hiding behind the mask.” The man walks over to me, and I raise my knives up, an act of defense.

“My dear Kacey. It seems you have brought knives to a gun fight,” he says. As he says it, five people from the crowd step forward, guns raised at me. All of them aim at my head. I feel myself start to tremble. Unlike Travis, I can’t say these people won’t hurt me, because I know they will in a heartbeat. I reluctantly slip the knives back into their sheaths. He walks up to me and rips the mask from my face, letting it fall to the floor.

“You,” the man says, his eyes locking on me. “You sneaky—” he cuts himself off with a short laugh. “You are truly amazing, Kacey Emerson.” I want to run, I really do. But my feet stay firmly in place. Travis stiffens at my side. “I really did not believe you were possibly still alive. Though,” he says, turning to the other people standing in the door. "You shouldn't be." No one moves a muscle.