A Necessary Evil(33)

It had all happened so fast, Mollie could hardly believe she was actually free. Pops had saved her, just like she knew he would. She was still upset about everything she’d learned over the past day or so, but none of that mattered right now. What mattered was that she was safe in this car, and the man was now dead.

She couldn’t believe she was still alive, and she couldn’t understand why the man had barely touched her since grabbing her from the parking lot. Mollie had heard about the other missing girls, and the man had told her everything he had done to them before killing them and disposing of their bodies. So why not her? He could have done anything he wanted during her captivity, but he’d spent most of his time reading, sleeping, pacing, and rambling. She considered herself extremely lucky compared to those poor girls. But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t have emotional scars for the rest of her life.

“Here comes the boss now,” Bruno said, breaking her train of thought. Bruno had carried her to the car and placed her gently in the passenger seat while her pops had remained down in The Vault, finishing the man off.

But when Mollie looked through the windshield, she saw the man stumbling in front of Pops, who had a gun pointed at the back of his head. His hands were bound together with zip ties, and his face and right arm were entirely covered in blood. Mollie couldn’t believe what she was seeing. She’d thought for sure the man was dead. Her pulse quickened, and she held her breath. Seeing him again was terrifying, but when she looked more closely at him, he looked completely different than when he was in control. He now looked defeated. Maybe even a little scared.

Bruno got out and walked up to Pops. Mollie strained to hear what he way saying.

“I thought you killed him, boss.”

“I probably should have,” she heard her grandfather say. “But I realized that would have been too quick and easy for him. I had a better idea.”

“What’s that?”

“You’ll see soon enough. I want you to take him back to Trifecta. Use Mollie’s car. It’s parked right over there.” Pops tossed him a set of keys he must have found down in the bunker.

“Okay, boss. But what about you?”

“Just keep him on ice, but do not let him die. Call Dr. Werner and have him look at his wound. I’ll be there shortly. I’m taking Mollie home to her mother.”

“Yes, boss.” Bruno nodded. He pulled out his gun, shoved it into the man’s ribcage, and guided him away from the Cadillac.

Her grandfather tucked his gun behind him and climbed into the driver’s seat. He turned and placed his hand on Mollie’s shoulder. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“Yeah,” she said. “I’m fine, I guess.”

She didn’t look right at her grandfather. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t have been kidnapped in the first place if it weren’t for him.

“Everything is going to be okay.” He squeezed her shoulder gently. “Pops is here. Are you ready to go home? Your mother will be so happy to see you.”

“Yes, please.” That was all she could manage. She was afraid if she said much more, her anger toward Pops would show, and she was too exhausted, physically and emotionally, to deal with her complicated feelings toward him right now. She just wanted to get away from the bunker and home to her mother, climb into her own bed, pull the sheets over her head, and sleep for a week.

“Then let’s get you home.” Pops put the car in gear and backed it away from where he’d parked by that damned deformed tree. He did a turnabout and slowly drove through the woods, occasionally swerving to avoid large fallen limbs or holes in the ground. The car jostled and bounced as they drove over rocks and branches, but Mollie’s muscles slowly begin to relax the further they drove.

She couldn’t believe this was really happening, that she was really in her Pops’s car, driving away from that hell hole and the madman who’d held her hostage for hours and hours. She let out a deep sigh of relief and blinked back tears of happiness. It was real. She was going home.

Mollie looked over at her grandfather, who appeared satisfied and maybe even a little smug. A tiny smile played across his lips as he kept his eyes on the bumpy road ahead. She should have felt gratitude and fondness toward him. Instead, the more she stared at him, the more she realized she didn’t know him at all. Not really. Sure, she’d known he was a famous “businessman” who probably bent the rules from time to time to get what he wanted. But Mollie had always assumed that meant he paid off politicians and greased the palms of government officials. She had never had any clue what he was really capable of. He had lied to her for years. Not to mention the fact that she would never have been kidnapped had it not been for his actions all those years ago. Her resentment toward her pops grew exponentially, the more she thought about what the man had told her.

When they finally made it out of the woods and onto a paved road, Mollie caught a glimpse of an old white farmhouse up on the top of the hill to her right. Was that where the man lived? She’d figured he had a house nearby, especially when he’d left her there for a while then returned with a television. Besides being old and maybe a little disheveled, the house seemed normal. Mollie tried to reconcile the idea that this man lived in a normal house with the fact that he was a cold-blooded killer who had kidnapped and murdered at least six other girls just so he could get to her. Though part of her felt guilty, mostly she was angry. And her anger was directed at the man who had caused it all—the man who was now driving her to safety.