Carolina Moon

them in the rearview mirror as your eyes dart up. Panic, outrage, hate. They’re getting closer.
    Your arm burns from the bullet and the blood drips.
    But you’ll get away. God’s on your side. He left the car for you. Fast. Faster.
    A test. It’s just another test. You’ll get away. Have to get away. But you’ll come back for her. Oh, you’ll come back and you’ll make her pay.
    Hands slicked with blood. The wheel spins out of your grip. The world rushes at you, shapes tumbling.
    Screaming. Is that you screaming?
    “Tory! For God’s sake, Tory. Stop it. Wake up.”
    She came back facedown on the shoulder of the road, her body jerking, screams ripping through her head.
    “Don’t do this. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
    “I’m all right.” Painfully, Tory rolled over, shielded her eyes with her arm. “I just need a minute.”
    “All right? You went tearing out to the road when they drove by. I was afraid you were going to run right out in front of them. Then your eyes rolled back in your head and you went down.” Faith dropped her head in her hands. “This is too much for me. This is just more than enough.”
    “It’s all right. It’s over. He’s dead.”
    “I think I figured that part out. Look.” She pointed down the road. The flames and smoke pillared up, and the sun bounced off the chrome and glass of the police cars circled in the distance.
    “I heard the crash, then a kind of explosion.”
    “A fiery death,” Tory murmured. “I wished it on him.”
    “He wished it on himself. I want Wade. Oh my God, I want Wade.”
    “We’ll get someone to call him.” Steadier, Tory got to her feet, held out a hand for Faith. “We’ll go down and ask someone to call him.”
    “Okay. I feel a little drunk.”
    “Me too. We’ll just hold on to each other.”
    Arms wrapped around each other’s waists, they started down the road. The heat bounced off the asphalt, shimmered on the air. Through the waves of it, Tory saw the fire, the spin of lights, the dull beige of the government car with the FBI agents beside it.
    “Do you see where he crashed?” Tory murmured. “Just across from where Hope … just on the bend of the road across from Hope.”
    She heard the car coming behind them, stopped, turned.
    Cade leaped out, raced forward to wrap his arms around both of them. “You’re all right. You’re all right. I heard the sirens, then saw the fire. Oh God, I thought…”
    “He didn’t hurt us.” Cade’s scent was there, sweat and man. Hers. Tory let it fill her. “He’s dead. I felt him die.”
    “Ssh. Don’t. I’m going to get you home, both of you.”
    “I want Wade.”
    He pressed his lips to the top of Faith’s head. “We’ll get him, honey. Come on with me. Hold on to me for now.”
    “He took your car, Cade.” Faith kept her eyes shut, her face pressed against her brother’s chest. “I’m sorry.”
    Cade only shook his head, held her tighter. “Don’t think about it. Everything’s going to be all right.”
    Clinging to control by a thread, he helped them into the car. As he drove forward, Agent Williams stepped out in the road, signaled.
    “Miss Bodeen. Can you verify that’s your father?” She gestured toward the wreck. “That Hannibal Bodeen was driving that vehicle?”
    “Yes. He’s dead.”
    “I need to ask you a few questions.”
    “Not here, not now.” Cade shoved the truck back in first gear. “You come to Beaux Reves when you’re done out here. I’m taking them home.”
    “All right.” Williams looked past him, toward Tory. “Are you injured?”
    “Not anymore.”
    Her mind went dull for a while. She was aware, in a secondary way, of Cade taking her into the house, leading her up the stairs. She drifted a little further away when he laid her on a bed.
    After a while, there was something cool on her face. She opened her eyes, looked into his.
    “I’m all right. Just a little tired.”
    “I got one of Faith’s nightgowns. You’ll feel better once we get it on you.”
    “No.” She sat up, put her arms around him. “Now I feel better.”
    He stroked her hair gently. Then his grip vised around her, and he buried his face in her hair. “I need a minute.”
    “Me too. Probably a lot of minutes. Don’t let go.”
    “I won’t. I can’t. I saw y’all go by. Faith driving like a maniac. I was going to blister her good for it.”
    “She did it on purpose. She loves to agitate you.”
    “She did, plenty. I stalked back