Chapter 8 - THE DECOY AND THE TICKET
I slammed on the brakes in the dark parking lot across the street from the hospital, my heart hammering in my throat.
“They’re waiting for us,” I sobbed, looking at the men guarding the emergency room doors. My mother’s breathing was a horrific, shallow rattle in the backseat. “If we drive up there, they’ll kill us. If we don't, she dies.”
Vincent stared at the hospital, his jaw clenched tight enough to crack stone.
He looked at Leo in the backseat, then at me.
“Take the car,” Vincent said softly. “Drive around to the loading dock in the back. When the chaos starts, get her inside. Don't look back.”
“What chaos?” I demanded, grabbing his arm. “Vincent, you can't take on six armed men alone. You’re already bleeding!”
Vincent reached into his coat pocket. He didn't pull out a gun.
He pulled out a small, folded ticket. It was an old Amtrak ticket, dated twenty-eight years ago.
“Arthur bought this for me the night he died,” Vincent whispered, placing the ticket in my hand. “He told me to take the train to California and never come back. I was too scared to leave. I stayed, and I let Carmine turn me into a monster. I’m not running anymore, Emily.”
Before I could stop him, Vincent opened the door and stepped out into the freezing rain.
He didn't try to hide. He walked directly out of the shadows and into the harsh streetlights, straight toward the front doors of the hospital.
“Moretti!” one of the men shouted, drawing his weapon.
Vincent didn't flinch. He raised his hands, empty, and kept walking.
“Carmine wants the ledgers!” Vincent yelled, his voice carrying over the rain. “I have them! Tell my brother to come out here and face me himself!”
The men swarmed him, weapons raised.
“Now, Emily!” my mother gasped from the back.
Tears streamed down my face. I threw the Honda into gear and sped around the dark perimeter of the hospital, tires squealing as I reached the loading dock.
I slammed the car into park and leaped out, pulling my mother from the backseat. Leo followed, terrified but silent.
I kicked the service doors open, screaming for help.
Nurses rushed forward. Within seconds, they had my mother on a gurney, strapping an oxygen mask to her face. The color slowly began to return to her cheeks as they wheeled her into the trauma bay.
I collapsed against the wall, clutching the silver bracelet and the train ticket to my chest. She was safe.
But Vincent was out there.
“Wait here with Leo,” I told a stunned security guard, shoving the boy behind the desk.
I ran through the hospital corridors, pushing through the double doors of the emergency room entrance just as a sleek black limousine pulled up outside.
I froze behind the glass.
A man stepped out of the limo. He looked like an older, crueler version of Vincent. Carmine Moretti.
Vincent was on his knees in the rain, two men holding guns to the back of his head.
“Hello, little brother,” Carmine smiled, stepping under an umbrella held by a guard. “I hear you have something that belongs to me.”
“The ledgers are gone, Carmine,” Vincent spat, blood dripping from his chin. “They’re on their way to the Feds.”
Carmine laughed, a dry, evil sound. “You always were a terrible liar, Vince. You wouldn't be standing here if you didn't have the book.”
Carmine pulled a silver revolver from his coat and aimed it at Vincent’s chest.
“Goodbye, Vincent.”
“Wait!” I screamed, pushing through the glass doors.
Carmine stopped, turning his cold eyes toward me.
I held the heavy leather ledger high in the air, the rain instantly soaking the cover.
May you like
“I have the book!” I yelled, stepping in front of Vincent.
TITLE: The Weight of the Ledger
