Shattered (20 page)

“That was the first thing I’ve done right
since I was a child,” Anderson shot back. “You deserve much worse,
you pathetic excuse for a man. Why don’t you come clean to all
these people about what you’ve done?”

“I haven’t the slightest—” Robert
started.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” Anderson roared from
the pit, turning away from Robert, “This man is not what you think
he is. The league is a front. A joke. Robert Hunt has been duping
you out of millions of dollars every week, pocketing your winnings
and robbing you all blind.”

“Robert, is that true?” shouted a voice from
the crowd.

“Of course not,” Robert said. But Anderson
went on.

“Robert Hunt is a menace, a brute, and a
murderer,” my fighter cried, pointing at Robert in the stands. “I
know everything, Robert. I know what you did to my family.”

“Your family?” Robert sneered, “I had nothing
to do with—”

“This man stole me away from my parents when
I was thirteen years old,” Anderson shouted into the darkness,
stepping over Marco’s limp body. “He killed them so that he could
train my brother Toby and I to be fighters in his disgusting fraud
of a league. He raised us to fight, to cause pain, to win at any
cost. And when my little brother decided that he was too smart, too
good for this, Robert lured him here and let him get beat to
death—to galvanize me. This place is built on the blood of my
family. It’s built on lies and murder and crime. And you are all
implicit.”

Nervous chatter rang through the air as the
audience grew more and more uncomfortable. People were confused,
anxious, at a loss for what they should do next. Robert scanned the
huge arena with hatred boiling in his eyes.

“You don’t believe this nonsense, do you?” he
cried, “This is lunacy! This is nothing but the paranoid ramblings
of a boy who’s been hit in the head too many times.”

“I heard you!” Anderson roared, “I heard you
tell Kaela everything!”

I held my breath as my name rang through the
stadium. Robert’s face twisted into a grin, and he turned toward
him with sinister ease. “Ah, yes,” he said, “Kaela. I should have
known that she would be behind all of this. Nice costume,
dear.”

Anderson spun to face me, looking scared for
the first time. I looked helplessly between them as every eye in
the place landed on me in my new skin.

Robert wagged his finger at me gleefully.
“You know I can’t let you get away with this, dear. I’m a man of my
word, after all.”

I felt a cold steel barrel against the small
of my back, and the world spun around me. I glanced over my
shoulder and saw Edward sneering behind me, a handgun pressed
against my skin.

“We couldn’t take any chances,” he said, as
Robert’s two henchmen stepped toward us. “By the way, Emilia
Bellantoni is a ridiculous name.”

“Leave her alone,” Anderson shouted, “Robert!
Tell your men to back off!”

“I don’t think I’ll do that,” Robert said
drolly, “I should have had them finish the job a few days back.
However, I suppose I just have a flair for the dramatic.”

“Kaela,” Anderson said, advancing toward me,
“Kaela, it’s OK. Everything’s going to be fine.”

“It is?” I asked breathlessly, feeling the
tip of the gun flush against my skin.

“Just listen to me,” Anderson said urgently,
as the entire crowd looked on. “Just do as I say, and everything
will be fine. I won’t let anything happen to you. Not ever.”

Robert let out a cold laugh across the ring.
“Oh, Anderson,” he sighed, “Still trying to save the people you
love after all these years. Won’t you ever learn?”

“I’ve learned plenty,” Anderson said to
Robert, “I’ve learned so much more from Kaela than you could ever
teach me. One lesson in particular has been incredibly helpful
tonight."

“And what would that be?” Robert asked,
taking the bait.

“That sometimes,” Anderson said, positioning
himself directly beneath me in the ring, “It’s important to call on
your friends in your hour of need.”

A gunshot echoed through the arena, and I
waited for the cool fingers of death to drag me out of my body. I
felt a wetness against my back, and looked around wildly. Edward
slumped against me, clutching his arm. It was his blood that had
splattered me, and he reeled away shrieking. From every corner of
the arena, police officers emerged, their weapons glinting in the
low light. The crowd went mad, crying out and trampling each other,
racing for the exits. I looked around at the ensuing chaos, watched
as burly officers tackled Robert’s men to the ground behind me.

“Kaela!” Anderson shouted from the pit.

“What do we do?” I cried.

“Jump!” Anderson said, holding his arms open
to me. I glanced across the circle and saw a handful of cops
closing in around Robert. He was staring straight at me,
practically frothing at the mouth. Before I could move, he pulled a
gun from this jacket. Time seemed to slow down as I clambered over
the edge of the railing and flew through the air. I could swear I
heard Robert’s discharged bullet whiz past my ear as I cut through
the electrified air. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the
policemen tackle the criminal at once, coming down on him like a
wave.

I landed heavily in Anderson’s arms, curling
into a ball against his chest. He set me down lightly and tugged me
across the sand. We flew together, sparing no glances for Robert or
any of his men. Our feet carried us across the sandy floor at
breakneck speed as the arena raged above us. The cops had closed
off and barred all the exits, as dozens of men in uniforms were
flooding into the space. Altercations between criminals and police
erupted everywhere, and mayhem descended upon the crowd.

Anderson pulled me into the dark tunnel
leading off the ring. We dove into the shadow of safety, tearing
through the underground maze. I followed Anderson blindly, trusting
him to know his way. He did, of course—rounding corners and
chugging along like he’d memorized the place’s blueprints. There
was probably a good chance that he had. Even as we ran deeper and
deeper along the hidden track, we could hear the chaos from above.
Gunshots were firing, people were crying out—the raid was in full
swing.

Finally, Anderson stopped and leveled a
mighty kick at the blackness before us, sending a hidden door
flying off its hinges. We sped out into the warm night, and I gaped
at what we found there. A nondescript blue sedan was idling in the
alleyway, without a soul in sight. Anderson reached under the front
wheel and withdrew a set of keys. With a wild grin, he popped open
the passenger door for me.

“After you,” he panted.

“You’re out of your goddamn mind!” I
cried.

“You’re God damned right,” he said, “Now get
in!”

He didn’t have to tell me twice. I scrambled
into the seat as he tore around the car and got behind the wheel.
The motor roared to life and we took off into the city. As we
rounded the corner, we spotted dozens of cop cars parked in front
of the red door with the silver number eight. Just as we were
pulling away, the door opened and the first criminal was pulled
through with a police escort of seven. Robert was cuffed between
two huge police officers, his mouth bloodied. Anderson got his
attention with a blast of our horn. I waved cheerfully at the man
as we peeled away. The last thing I saw as we turned the corner was
Robert’s astonished face being forced into the backseat of the cop
car.

I slumped back against my seat and began to
sob and laugh in turn. My exhausted, tightly wound body seemed to
relax for the first time in two weeks. I lost all control of myself
in a shocked and unwieldy euphoria.

“We did it!” I cried, bouncing in my seat,
“Anderson, we did it! We got away!”

He grinned at me from the driver’s seat.
“We’re not away yet,” he corrected, “Traffic and all.”

“Where are we going?” I asked anxiously, “I
brought my passport, I’m ready to go wherever you want,
Anderson.”

“To tell you the truth,” he said, “I haven’t
figured that part out yet. I got about as far as the car trick
before I ran out of smart ideas. You’ll have to be the brains of
this operation from here on out. I’ve just about exhausted
mine.”

“Whatever you say, boss.” I told him, leaning
back heavily against the seat.

We finally cleared New York City and sailed
into New Jersey. I looked back at the receding skyline. The city
looked so peaceful from far away—all billboards and twinkling
lights. It was hard to imagine that somewhere, underneath it all, a
thousand of New York’s most powerful men had just been caught red
handed in a corrupt underground fighting league. Somewhere among
those city streets, Robert Hunt was huddled in the backseat of a
cop car, apprehended at last after getting away with so many years
of crime and murder.

“Do you still think it’s a beautiful city?”
Anderson asked me, catching my eye in the rearview mirror.

“I do,” I said, “Despite it all. There’s no
place in the world like it. What about you? Do you still think it’s
beautiful?”

“I think I’m robbing it of its most beautiful
asset even as we speak,” Anderson grinned, “Even if she’s dressed
up like a circus clown at the moment.”

“Leave me alone!” I said, pulling the padding
out from under my dress. “Desperate times...”

“Indeed,” Anderson said, “But it’s over, for
now. Let’s just think about that for a minute.”

We fell silent as the road stretched out
before us. I felt sleep rush in to claim me, and realized that it
had been 48 hours since I’d last closed my eyes. I was finally free
to rest, at least for a little while. For the time being, no one
could touch us - we were finally free. I let my head rest against
his shoulder and fell into the deepest, most satisfied sleep of my
life. I felt like I’d earned a little shut eye—though god only
knows, Anderson deserved it even more than I. I let my eyes fall
shut, knowing that I was safe with Anderson at the wheel—as
always.

Chapter
Twelve

We spent the next week on the road together,
Anderson and I. Neither of us had any destination in mind, nowhere
to run to. We swerved around the country in our little blue sedan,
blasting the radio as loud as it would go. The windows stayed
rolled down, and I loved the way that the wind ruffled my short
hair. I watched as America flew by my window, shifted and changed
as we made our way from state to state.

First, we made our way down the coast. We
sailed through the middle states and headed further south. We
stayed a night in North Carolina, camped by the shore on the Outer
Banks. I’d spent most of the night looking up at the vast array of
stars that spread above us. I’d never seen a night sky like that
before in my life. We lay in the sand together, not saying a word.
Neither of us was ready to speak about what happened, or the
implications of what came next. We were just happy to be together,
at peace, at long last.

From North Carolina we swung up through the
plain states, stopping at gas stations and rest stops to scrub
ourselves down the best we could and load up on snacks and soda. We
tore through bags of trail mix and chips, and whatever other local
treats we could get our hands on as we went. Anderson, who had been
on a strict protein rich diet since he was thirteen, rediscovered
the glory that is the French fry. I had seen him overcome with
pleasure before, but never quite like the first time a fry touched
his tongue after a decade and change of abstinence.

We made our way through Montana next,
spending a night in a tiny cabin in a gorgeous national park. The
farther away we got from the city, the more we finally relaxed. We
stayed in Montana a whole day, hiking and drinking in the clear
air. Anderson told me that he’d emptied his accounts entirely, that
all the money Robert had been hoarding from him was safe inside a
new account that the Mob boss could not touch. Anderson wouldn’t
tell me the exact amount we had access to, but assured me that it
was enough for us to live on comfortably and then some for the rest
of our lives.

California was our destination after that. We
started at the top of the state and worked our way down through
wine country, San Francisco, Los Angeles...all the way down to the
Mexican border. We found a tiny seaside motel there and checked in,
a week into our flight. The concierge seemed nonplussed about our
desire to pay in cash, and that was just fine by us. Anderson
carried our scant luggage up into the room and looked around
approvingly.

“This will do for a while, right?” he
asked.

“Sure,” I said, taking in the space. It was
surprisingly tidy, our room. The queen sized bed was made up with
crisp creamy linens; the room was decorated with a few solid items,
as opposed to a slew of tasteless artifacts. Through the back
window, the nighttime ocean rippled and roared. I closed my eyes
and let the sounds of the waves wash over me. It was a peaceful
metronome, their progress and recession. Just the thing to soothe
one’s frazzled nerves.