Page 75 of Death is Familiar

Mads didn’t make a single move. He just kept his face still, unreadable. Perhaps he was going to let me go, find a mechanic, and get the slashed tire situation sorted. If that was the case, Mads would really be subverting my expectations. The whole tire-slashing would have been a coincidence, and Mads, despite Botan’s warning, would have no further cards up his sleeve. No Machiavellian plans.

But we both knew that wouldn’t be happening.

A sentiment which was made abundantly clear when Mads pulled a gun on me.

A fucking gun.

“Keep driving.”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I really hated guns. They were so unfair.

“Drive.”

“Keep the money, I don’t care,” I offered. “Just put the gun away.”

“This isn’t about the money.” Come on, it had to be a little about the money. He cocked his head and gestured with the pistol. “Drive.”

Turning off the blinker, we continued past the auto repair shop and I shot Mads a death glare.

“Don’t look at me like that. Eyes on the road. I’ll tell you when to stop.”

“I’ll look where I want.” I sized him up, paying just enough attention to the road to keep us on the straight and narrow. Now, I was no gun expert, but the gun was familiar. It’s shape. The coloring. The make.

Why the hell did I feel like I knew this gun?

Then, it clicked. It looked identical to the gun Jack sported in his holster. The one he brandished above his head in Monongahela. Shit.

In that moment, I came to realize two things. One, is that I was fairly certain I was looking down the barrel of Todd’s gun, the one that had been misplaced during the assault at the cabins. And two, Mads wasn’t afraid to use it.

My skin turned cold. “How the hell do you have an FBI-issued gun, Mads?”

He looked at the weapon in his hands. “Shit.”

Mads’ attention flashed to our surroundings. We’d passed the edge of town and were surrounded by fields as far as the eye could see. If I kept driving straight, we wouldn’t hit another town, or another person for that matter, for miles. Even Google Maps didn’t have this part of the road filled in, that’s how out-of-the-way we were.

“Pull over.”

“I’m not pulling over.” I took the driver’s seat for a reason.

“I don’t think you know how this works.” Mads leaned forward, but kept the gun out of my reach. “I have the gun, I make the rules.”

“I have my foot on the gas pedal, and will drive us into a tree if I have to.” Mads could also technically grab the emergency brake, but I wasn’t about to point that out. Nor was I going to point out that we were about to approach a large swathe of flat treeless farm land. “And I’ll have you know, I’m a really good driver, so if I decide to total half this car, it sure as hell won’t be the side I’m on.”

Mads hadn’t been expecting that. His clutch on his weapon tightened.

“Besides you won’t shoot me.” The next part was a risk, but if Lawrence had been put up to the Seal by Mads, it only made sense that Mads wanted me to play the role. “You have a vested interest in making sure I’m unharmed. I think it has something to do with me being the key.”

“What the hell did you just say?”

“The key.”

“How the hell do you know that?” He straightened his shoulders. “I don’t know what you think you know, but let me assure you, you don’t know the half of it.”

“Don’t I?” His face was like stone, unreadable, but I kept pushing, “So, here’s what we’re going to do, Mads. You’re going to put down that gun. I’m not going to ram this car into a tree. Then you are going to explain everything to me.”

“I know that trick, Delilah.”

The trick where he explains everything and then I use his own weapon against him to get what I want—yeah, that trick. “But it’s the best option you’ve got.”