“Never underestimate someone who has nothing to lose,” I tell him. “I know they want me to come. And, I’ll be happy to oblige.”
Fynn sighs. “There is no talking you out of it, is there?”
“No,” I shake my head.
The breeze blows through my hair, ruffling it a little. It reminds me how cold and heartless life can get. I thought I lived through the worst tragedy of my life when I lost my mother. Now, it turns out I might have to go through all of it again, and even worse. Face being left completely alone in the world.
“This is a horrible idea,” he rolls his eyes. “Let’s just be clear on that.”
“We are.”
“But, if I don’t take you with me, you’ll follow me or something, and still end up there, right?”
“Right.” I can’t help but smile. “See? You know me so well.”
“I know that you really don’t like taking orders.”
“When I agree with them, sure. I’ll listen.”
“But sometimes, others know better. Why can’t you listen then?” he asks and I don’t know what to tell him.
“I need to find out what happened to my father,” I keep on telling him the only thing that matters right now. “I need to see if he’s alive or dead. Maybe… maybe that bullet didn’t hit him. Maybe he’s just wounded. Maybe he’s waiting for me, for us, to come and rescue him. I can’t leave him. Not like our mother was left.”
“Maddie…” He walks over to me. “I know you’re confused about your mother’s death. Anderson shouldn’t have been the one to tell you anything. Even though it seems that if he hadn’t, then Hugo wouldn’t have the chance up to this point. So, maybe it’s good Anderson took it upon himself. But, it’s not Hugo’s fault. Your father is a decent guy. Always has been. He just got caught up in some shady things, and unfortunately… your mother ended up paying the price for it.”
I swallow heavily. My mother is the last thing I want to talk about right now, but I can’t say anything. I’m just focusing on not crying. I want my old photo album, so I can take just one look at her smiling face. But, I can’t. I don’t even know if I’ll ever be able to return to the house I once called my home. Will I even find all my stuff there or has Sven already stormed through the place?
“Your father needs your forgiveness, more than anything,” Fynn says.
“I don’t even know if he’s alive.”
He sighs. “I don’t ever do this,” he clears his throat a little, “but, what is your heart telling you?”
I look at him, puzzled.
“Close your eyes,” he instructs me, putting his hands on my shoulder. His touch is electrifying. I notice that he’s done it much more easily this time. My body relaxes. “Picture your father with the eye of your mind. Can you see him?”
“Mhm,” I nod, my eyes still closed.
“What is he doing?”
“He is… reading in his study,” I actually smile at this mental image. “I barged into the room, but he is never upset when I do this. Not once.”
“Looking at him like that, what is your heart telling you?”
I suddenly open my eyes. I can’t believe he, of all people, is asking me that question. But, I reply.
“He’s still alive,” I whisper, my whole body trembling.
“Then, we’ll find him,” he nods. “I promise you that.”
He quickly takes his hands off of me, and I feel like he just electrocuted me. I’m still shaking, barely able to keep my balance. Fear washes over me. What if I can’t do this?
“You still have that gun I gave you?”
“Mhm.”
“Good. You’ll take this one as well. And, here’s some ammo. I’ll show you how to load them.”
He turns away and grabs a few small bags in his hand.
“Fynn?” I lower my eyelids.
“Yes?”
“Do you think we can do this?”
“If you want some assurances that we will all get out unharmed from this, I’m afraid I can’t give you that. I’m not sure of anything right now. All I’m sure of is that there is a sky over us and there is ground beneath us. Those are the only two things I know. The rest is all up for discussion.”
I don’t say anything to that. There’s nothing to say really. But, his words fill me with a strange sense of awe. There are so many possibilities, and in one of them, maybe even many of them, we do get out of this whole ordeal unharmed and alive. That’s all I need to remember.
“Now, let me show you how to use this gun,” he urges me to come over and I do so.
A few hours later, we’re at the designated location. Fynn had explained to me that the Boon was an old tavern, which was torn down ages ago, and all that is left of it are just four big walls and a roof that’s about to collapse any minute now.
Fynn parks the car a bit away, but I doubt anything we do would give us the surprise advantage. We already lost that.
We get out of the car, and I look around. We’re on the outskirts of the city. It’s closed off, secluded. There is no traffic of any kind around. If you want to do anything illegal, this would be your place to do it.
“You OK?” Fynn asks me, as he checks the guns on him.
He bends down to one knee, and lifts his trouser leg. I see the glimmer of a small knife in a pocket around his ankle. He adjusts it, then gets back up.
“I’m fine,” I nod.
I’m everything but fine, but is there a point in reporting that? I need to convince myself that I’m fine, that I can do this. Whatever this is. First I was running away from my kidnapper, and now, I’m walking straight towards him.
“Just stay close,” he whispers, then heads on first.
He is walking slowly, his body is slumping forward. I can barely hear his footsteps. I try to be as stealthy as he is, but it’s difficult. I step on a dry branch, or on some rubble which grinds underneath the soles of my shoes. Fynn doesn’t say anything. He just keeps on going, his hand constantly pressed to his side, where his gun is. Mine is already in my trembling hand, as I wonder whether I’ll have the guts to pull the trigger.
Something rustles in the bushes nearby, and we both jump. He sniffs the air, then shakes his head.
“A squirrel.”
I’m so nervous I’m about to burst out into loud laughter, but I manage to calm myself down. We finally reach what looks like a door, hanging off its hinges. Fynn looks around, but apart from a few flickering lights in the distance, it looks like we’re the only ones here.
“Please, relinquish your weapons.”
We suddenly hear a voice from behind us, and a cocking of a gun, which sounded much bigger than either of ours.
“I always wanted to say it so dramatically.”
I don’t need to turn around to recognize that voice.
“Throw your gun to the ground,” Fynn instructs me and I do it.