Chapter 5 - THE COAT IN THE HALLWAY
I nearly swerved into the next lane.
“Your brother?”
“Half-brother,” Jack said, locking his phone and shoving it into his pocket. “Arthur knows Marcus is my weak point. He’s the only family I have left.”
I stared at the road, the headlights blurring through my tears.
“He has my mother. He has your brother.”
I tightened my grip on the steering wheel.
“Where is the locker? Did the police file say?”
Jack looked down at the redacted pages.
“Yes. South Station. Locker 402.”
He looked up at the dashboard clock.
10:45 PM.
“We have an hour and fifteen minutes before midnight,” Jack said. “Pull over. I’m driving.”
“You’re bleeding.”
“Pull over, Emily.”
I did as I was told, swapping seats with him on the shoulder of the highway.
Jack drove with a terrifying, reckless precision.
We reached South Station in less than fifteen minutes.
The massive train terminal was mostly empty, echoing with the sound of late-night janitors and the distant rumble of departing trains.
We moved quickly through the concourse.
Jack kept his hand inside his jacket, his eyes scanning every shadowed corner.
We found the old baggage lockers near the lower platforms.
Rows of rusted, dented metal.
I stopped in front of locker 402.
My hands were shaking as I held up the tiny brass key.
“What if it’s not here?” I whispered. “What if Arthur’s men already found it?”
“Then we go to Pier 4 and we kill Arthur anyway,” Jack said coldly.
I swallowed hard and inserted the key.
It turned with a stiff, grinding squeak.
I pulled the metal door open.
Inside, sitting in the dust of two decades, was a single object.
A thick, leather-bound ledger.
I reached in and pulled it out.
It was heavy. The leather was cracked and worn.
I opened the first page.
Columns of dates, names, and massive sums of money.
Payoffs. Bribes. Murder contracts.
Everything was meticulously recorded in my father’s neat handwriting.
“We have it,” I breathed.
“Give it to me,” Jack said, taking the ledger and tucking it under his arm.
He grabbed my hand.
“Let’s go.”
We turned back toward the concourse.
And stopped dead.
Standing at the top of the escalators were four men in dark suits.
They weren’t police.
They weren’t travelers.
They were Arthur’s men.
“They tracked us,” Jack cursed under his breath.
He pulled me behind a thick concrete pillar just as the men started drawing their weapons.
“How?” I asked in a panic.
Jack looked down at his own suit.
He reached behind his lapel, ripping the fabric.
He pulled out a tiny, blinking GPS tracker.
“They didn’t track the car,” Jack realized, disgusted. “Arthur planted this on me during the board meeting this morning. Before the interview.”
He crushed the tracker under his heel.
“We have to move.”
Jack grabbed my hand and we bolted down the maintenance hallway behind the lockers.
Shouts echoed behind us.
Footsteps pounded on the tile.
We tore through a set of heavy fire doors, entering a labyrinth of dark service corridors beneath the station.
Jack stopped suddenly, pushing me against the wall.
He listened.
Footsteps were coming from both directions.
We were trapped.
Jack let go of my hand.
He took off his torn, blood-stained suit jacket.
He draped it over my shoulders.
“Put this on,” he ordered, his voice terrifyingly calm.
“Jack, what are you doing?”
“Keep the ledger inside the coat,” he said, not answering my question. “Hide it.”
I clutched the jacket tightly around me.
Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.
He handed it to me.
“Call this number. It’s my head of security. Tell him exactly where you are.”
“What about you?” I demanded, panic rising in my throat.
Jack looked at me.
His dark eyes were soft for the first time since the lobby.
“I’m going to create a distraction.”
“No!” I grabbed his arm. “They have guns! You can’t fight four men alone!”
“I’m not fighting them, Emily. I’m leading them away from you.”
Jack reached out and touched my cheek.
His thumb brushed away a tear I didn’t know was falling.
“You fed me half a sandwich today,” Jack smiled sadly. “You told me loyalty means knowing who deserves it.”
He stepped back.
“My father owed your father his life. And I owe you yours.”
Before I could stop him, Jack turned and ran down the left corridor, shouting to draw their attention.
“Over here!” Jack roared.
The heavy sound of boots changed direction, chasing his voice into the darkness.
I was left alone in the freezing hallway.
Trembling, I put my hands into the pockets of Jack’s coat to keep them warm.
My fingers brushed against something stiff.
I pulled it out.
It wasn’t a gun.
It was an envelope.
I opened it under the dim emergency light.
Inside were two first-class boarding passes.
Flight to Geneva, Switzerland.
Departing tomorrow morning.
The names on the tickets were Jack Whitmore.
And Emily Carter.
He hadn’t planned to use me as bait.
He hadn’t planned to drag me into his war.
He had planned to give me the job, protect my mother, and disappear us both to safety.
I stared at the tickets.
He was willing to give up his entire empire to protect a girl he had just met, all to honor a twenty-six-year-old debt.
A gunshot echoed through the tunnels.
My heart stopped.
May you like
I wasn’t going to hide.
I grabbed the ledger, wrapped the coat tightly around me, and ran toward the sound of the gunfire.
