House of Steel (24 page)

“He killed Henry?” Joe asked, still trying
to catch up.

“Yeah, Gunnar shot him right in front of me.
My father was there. They both claimed Henry was going to hurt me,
but I didn’t believe them,” Evie replied.

“I knew something wasn’t right,” Joe said,
looking toward Delaney on the other side of the pen.

“What wasn’t right?” Evie prodded.

“That your father was hiding something. Not
without a doubt, but I suspected something a few months back. Your
father started to get real short with me when I started talking
about Elizabeth. Almost angry. There was something that I was
missing. So I followed him a bit, got close to Gunnar by fixing his
car and then your father asked me to help her out,” he nodded
toward Delaney who was huddled against the poles, trying to
conserve any warmth within her body. Her body had gone into
survival mode. Her eyes perked up as she felt the other two looking
at her.
To help me out. The accident… it wasn’t an accident.
The car’s lights illuminated so fast in front of her, appearing
from nowhere.
It wasn’t an accident.

“And when the blood was found on campus, I
knew it had something to do with Holston. I had just picked her up
and found a Leighton football roster in her car. I knew there was
something with her and the student. So I saw a chance. A chance to
play his game to find out the truth, but I never wanted to believe
it, Evie. Not Elizabeth. She didn’t deserve it.” Joe’s voice shook
beneath his hands. He looked up at Evie, his eyes bloodshot with
years of pain and suffering from the loss of his daughter.

“I know she didn’t,” Evie rushed, her voice
louder and stronger. “But Henry? I don’t believe it. Gunnar killed
Elizabeth.”

“I don’t know, Evie. I guess they could have
made it look like an accident. I wouldn’t have been able to live
knowing that my Elizabeth was murdered. I would have killed that
Henry kid, but it seems like Gunnar took care of that,” Joe
replied.

“But why Elizabeth?” Evie whispered into the
darkness.

“I don’t know.” Joe shook his head, looking
up at the girl his dead daughter had once called her best friend.
The little girl he once taught how to ride a bike now stood erect
before him, handguns gripped in both hands while standing in a pool
of blood. “What is your father doing hiring rapists and murderers?
Who is he?”

Evie shook her head as she kicked Gunnar’s
lifeless body on the cement.

“Before Elizabeth died, I…” Joe started as
the wind whistled again, drafting frozen air into the barn.

“You what?” Evie prodded.

“I was looking into your mom. Elizabeth
asked me to do it as a favor for her and for you.” His eyes met
Evie’s as his voice trembled.

“My mom,” Evie whispered. A heaviness fell
on her chest as the memories of the late nights talking with
Elizabeth about her mother surfaced. A mother she had never
known.

“She said that you didn’t know her name.
That she was dead. A waitress from some obscure town that he had
met and gotten pregnant. She gave the baby,
you,”
he nodded
toward Evie “to your father to raise and that shortly after giving
birth, she died in a car accident.” He paused, looking back down at
the pool of blood now seeping close to his feet.

“He told me a car accident, too,” Evie
whispered. Delaney watched on the other side of the pen as the
story of the two strangers unfolded, their pasts intertwined.
But why am I here?

“Elizabeth said that you found a picture at
the cabin and that you wanted to know who she was. Just so you knew
who you came from. And Elizabeth,” he stumbled on her name. “Sweet
Elizabeth just wanted to help you. She loved you so much, and I
loved her.”

Evie shifted her legs before bending down
close to the ground, resting the point of the guns on the concrete.
Any color she had drained from her face as she listened to Joe’s
voice.

“I was looking into it, and Holston must
have known what I found,” Joe added.

“What?” Evie whispered.

“Your mother. She had a family of her own. A
husband. Kids.”

“A family? Is she alive?” Evie stood back
up, guns rested on her hips.

“She might be. I don’t know. I stopped
looking into it after Elizabeth died. I just couldn’t do it
anymore. I didn’t have the energy,” he stammered. “But I had no
idea who your dad was. I still don’t know.” His shoulders shuddered
as he put his head down again.

“Henry couldn’t have,” Evie whispered. It
couldn’t be Henry. It had to be Gunnar.

“Holston Parker. Who is he?” Joe asked.

“A killer hiding in plain sight.” Evie’s
words echoed off the walls, resonating in Delaney’s ears. Holston
Parker was a killer, and he was after her and her family, but she
still didn’t know why. The pieces floated around her head, unable
to connect. She looked at Joe’s face, stricken with a revelation
that altered his inner core. He was unable to speak, silent as the
information penetrated him.

“I know, Joe. It happened for me ten years
ago, in this same exact place. Gunnar killed Henry here and my
father; he was the one that told him to do it. I’ve been waiting
since then. Waiting to seek my revenge,” Evie looked back at
Delaney still standing on the other side of the pen. Delaney
shifted her body, silent.
What do you want?
“And now
Elizabeth. He’ll pay for all the wrong he has done.” Evie stood
straight, slipping one of the guns into the holster.

“Evie, you don’t know that it was Gunnar. It
could have been Henry,” Joe said.

“You’re going to believe this thug on the
ground?” Evie asked.

“I don’t know. I don’t know what or who to
believe.” Joe’s voice trailed as he turned again toward Delaney.
“But what about
her?
What about that kid? Is he alive?”

“He’s alive.” Evie bent down, patting down
the pockets of the dead body on the concrete. “And for her, I don’t
know
why
her, but I know that she’s important to him.” Evie
stopped as she caught the glimpse of the beginning of ink near his
wrist. She pulled up his sleeve, revealing the initials that ran up
his arm.

“Initials,” Joe answered Evie’s silent
question.

“Of who?” Evie asked.

“The last one is the guy that he murdered in
front of me,” Delaney said, clearing her throat. She shifted her
legs and stood up taller, eager to contribute information. She saw
no other way out of this barn, out of the murderous mess without
showing Evie her value.

“He killed someone in front of you,” Evie
repeated, turning to Delaney while still crouched on the
ground.

“Yeah. The man who raped me when I was
fourteen,” Delaney added, “R.R. Richard Rowan.”

“When?” Evie demanded.

“Two days ago. At your shop.” Delaney nodded
toward Joe. “After you left, Gunnar showed up with Richard Rowan in
his trunk. He sunk a knife into his chest. Killed him within
seconds. You could tell, he had done it before. He got pleasure out
of it.”

“And you didn’t tell anyone?” Evie
grilled.

“He threatened me,” Delaney shot back. “You
didn’t tell anyone, either, about that Henry kid.” Delaney
straightened her body, defending her actions.

“I didn’t,” Evie replied, turning back to
Gunnar’s arm. She pulled the sleeve all the way up, revealing the
remaining initials lining his arm. “There are twenty-two
initials.”

“Gunnar’s killed twenty-two people?” Joe
asked in disbelief. “For Holston?”

“I didn’t know there were this many,” Evie
said as she scanned the arm. “H.T. Henry Thomas.” She reached into
her pocket and retrieved her phone. The white flash illuminated the
dark barn as Evie snapped a picture of the tattoos.

“Evie,” Joe started as he moved closer to
her.

“You better go, Joe.” Evie stood up, staring
up into his wrinkled eyes.

“Do you have that kid?”

“Joe, you better go,” Evie repeated.

“Evie, you’re in over your head. What are
you going to do with him?” He nodded down at the body.

“Joe, you need to go. My father can’t know
you were here. Just go. I will take care of him.” Evie backed away,
holding the keys to the handcuffs tight in her hand.

“I can help,” Joe continued, his gentle eyes
agonized.

“No, you can’t. You have to go. I’ve got
this. I will avenge Elizabeth for you. For the both of us. I
promise you that.” A tear dropped from Joe’s eye as he studied the
holster, now hanging in sight. She held the gun tightly in her
other hand. The sweet girls he had known were long gone. He turned
to open the gate, moving toward Delaney.

“Take care of yourself, Evie,” he said as he
walked through the gate. “And you, Delaney,” he whispered as he
moved passed both the women into the darkness of the barn. Evie
followed him through the gate, setting her eyes on a shivering
Delaney against the bars of the pen. Delaney flinched as Evie
grabbed her hands, swinging her around to expose the handcuffs.
Evie slid the key in, turning it with a click.

“I’m V,” she said, turning to look up at
Delaney.

“I’ve gathered that,” Delaney responded,
pulling her arms from behind her back. Pain shot through her wrists
as she rubbed them with her fingertips. “I guess I should thank
you. At least, I think.”

“Not yet, but that asshole was the one who
took Theron and carved him open. And he kidnapped you to try to get
to me. To try to find out where Theron was. I’m guessing he was
supposed to scare him, not kill him. He certainly wasn’t supposed
to slice him with a machete.” Evie nodded to the body in the pen.
“But he’s safe now,” she added as she moved back into the pen.

“Where is he?” Delaney prodded.

“He’s stable, but he’ll need some help soon.
You need to trust me, D. I saved your life,” Evie spat back as she
sifted through the body’s pockets again.

“You used me. As a decoy, for whatever this…
this mess is,” Delaney yelled back. Her heart thudded against her
chest.

“I did,” Evie replied, unforgiving. “But you
slept with a student and you whore yourself out for men on the
internet.”

“I don’t whore myself out,” Delaney shot
back. “And why does your dad, my brother’s boss, care about me?
What the hell did I do?” Delaney grabbed onto the poles to steady
herself.
I should run. But no keys. The snow.

“The truth? The truth is that I don’t know
yet. I know that you fucked that kid, and Gunnar killed the man
that raped you. Other than that, I don’t know. But, I know that you
matter, and I know that you need to trust me if you want to get out
of this alive.”

Evie began lifting the bales and rolling
them alongside the wall. Delaney watched as the slight woman with
shocking strength, stacked the bales on top of each other until
they reached the wooden planks. Evie looked around, shining the
light to their surroundings before slitting the strings of the bale
on the top of the stack with a knife she had pulled from her
pocket. Evie’s petite hands scattered the loose straw around the
tower.

“What are you doing?” Delaney asked as Evie
slid her hand into another pocket near the knee of her pants.
Who the hell is she?

“Taking care of this place by doing what I
was promised would be done more than ten years ago,” Evie added as
she retrieved something that fit in the palm of her hand. Several
clicks sounded before the red flicker of a flame illuminated from
her hand. Evie raised it and held it there, meeting the dry straw
near her head until the red spread in front of her. The smoke rose
as she waved her hand back and forth, making the flames dance
across the yellow strands. It spread quick, swallowing the dry
straw with each second as it ignited the top bale resting against
the wood planks.
She’s burning it down.

“It should be enough. It’s done,” Evie
whispered as she slid back through the gate to stand next to
Delaney. “We have to go. Theron doesn’t have much time left.”

32

DAY 4: Sunday, December 21 – 5:10 p.m.

A haze of smoke crawled up toward the peak of
the barn as the flames flickered in Delaney’s eyes. She felt a
compelling urge to trust the woman standing next to her, as crazy
as it was. Delaney had no choice except to trust her. Evie had
saved her. She had Theron. And she wanted to seek revenge on her
father, a homicidal maniac.

“Let’s go,” Delaney pleaded. Evie stood
immobile, eyes transfixed on the billowing haze and orange color
that multiplied across the brittle straw. Evie was right. The fire
would take. The straw and wood on the barn was weathered and dry.
It would ignite and spread fast.

“Over one hundred-years-old. And just like
that. Poof. It’s gone.” Evie smiled before turning the beam of the
light to the walkway ahead, falling into a slow jog. Delaney
followed her footsteps down the concrete. Her feet like clubs
against the hard surface.

“By the way, are you okay?” Evie’s voice
split through the crackle behind them.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she lied.
Besides the
raging headache, numb feet, frozen fingers, and emotional trauma.
Yeah, fine.

“If you want to get out of here, alive, then
you’re going to have to follow my lead. And you’re not going to
want to lie.” She spun to look at Delaney’s face. “That shit
doesn’t work for me.”

“I feel like death then. Not quite warmed
over,” Delaney replied. “Is that better?”

“I have a jacket in the car. You can put my
boots on when we get in, but for now, we have to keep moving.” The
fire smoked behind them as it spread up to the wall. Several feet
of the wooden planks had ignited, illuminating the pen below.
Delaney looked back at the body of the man that had beaten her. It
was the same man that had closed her wound that had festered for
fourteen years and for that, she was grateful, but she had seen his
crazed eyes as he’d beaten her. He was a killer. She envisioned
Gunnar in flames, his body melting to ash. She turned back to meet
Evie’s eyes.