Chapter 41

Luke ramming into Jackson's side introduced the ear-splitting gunshot at the same second.  Jackson stumbled, attempting to hold his balance.  He didn't get the chance to regain his stance though. Luke lunged at him, but this time, tackled him to the ground. 

There was no sound from the struggling men.  Because as the echoing gunshot faded, Carter's loud scream of agony filled the air. It covered any audible sign of Luke and Jackson fighting on the cement to overpower the other.

My eyes darted to the scream. Carter was withering on the sandy ground yards away, yelling out in pain, unable to stay still.  Unfortunately, I was the opposite. My legs, my head, my pounding heart didn't know what to do!  All I functioned as during that first moment of chaos was an absorber. Hell, I don't even know what I just saw, what was happening. I couldn't think.

With Carter's initial scream fading, my mental and physical abilities returned. I needed to move! Move, do something, help!  What was even happening? I glanced between the wresting men who were throwing punches and Carter's thrashing body.  All I knew: Jackson was the main source of danger. He had the gun, he was the one going ape shit, and he shot Carter.

I raced over to the men and had my chance.  Luke lifted a disoriented Jackson before slamming his shoulder into the cement.  It forced the guilty gun to scurry from his grip across the pavement. Thank god! Scrambling to it, I picked it up, and rushed back to them. This shit was not happening!

Jackson landed a punch, nearly throwing Luke off of him. Before he could escape Luke's hold, I aimed the gun down to him. "Jackson!"

He completely froze. Then, a groan escaped him, accompanied by a deep scowl.  Eyes were wild and contemplating. They were shooting between me, the gun, and a wounded Carter.

Just as he snapped forward, reaching for the gun, Luke pinned him back against the road.  Luke snatched the gun from me and pressed the barrel under his chin.  "I will blow your fucking head off!" Luke shouted, his free hand holding Jackson's wrists above his head on the road.

Luke's panicked eyes flew up to mine. "Get the handcuffs from Carter, right now! Key's in my back pocket, check where he was shot."

Digging the small key out of Luke's back pocket, I turned and ran off the road. My pounding feet with Carter's loud breathing produced an eerie rhythm. It was the only solid thing I could process at the moment. The rhythm would stick.  The picture I was approaching would stick too.

His brown dyed strands mixed in with the grainy dirt.  He wasn't thrashing like before; he was just lying there, controlling his breath now between clenched teeth.  His eyes were scrunched shut. You wouldn't think the dude was shot from how calm he appeared.  The blood gave it away.

Carter's bound wrists were raised and pressed against his shoulder.  It was the bloodiest region of his body.

When I fell to my knees at his side and fought his strong arms to lower from his wound, I could see the dark hole. It penetrated the front of his shoulder, leaving a dark and blood spurting hole from his shirt.  Luckily for him, the wound was far enough from his chest.

"Fuck, I hate you people," he moaned in annoyance.  Opening his eyes, the sharp blue found mine. Then, his head shifted down to see his wound. The next second, his top lip raised in disgust and anger. Lord knows how he wasn't panicking. If I was looking at my own wound, I would be freaking out. I was freaking out now and I wasn't the one shot.

This was too much, too overwhelming! He was shot. It made it hard to follow Luke's directions.  But he wouldn't die; I reminded myself of that several times.  Forcing my hand to stay steady, I slid the small key into the lock of the red wet handcuffs. 

It released his hands, which only returned to his shoulder.  Ripping the fabric away, he winced and cupped the wound.  "I'm gonna fucking kill him."  Wincing, he sat up.

What a mistake that was.  It ignited a loud grunt. Instantly, he was facing extreme pain pulsing through him again.  Clearly, the smallest movements could set off the pain and make it unbearable. 

He spit unintelligible fast words and fought the agony with 'fucks,' grunts, and gritting teeth. It was hard not to move or wither, but he fought the urge as best as he could.  He froze and cupped his spilling wound harder, fighting off the spasms.  Jesus, I could barely stand it.  The sight twisted my insides, my mind lost in a whirl. 

By the time it faded from him and he was back to just breathing fast, my intentions snapped me to reality.  I was about to sprint back to Luke with the handcuffs, but Carter's angry words kept me in place.

"God damn, I can't believe that fucking bitch missed!" he scoffed.

What...? My mind was entirely consumed in the events that just occurred, it took me a moment to understand.  I knew his words were significant. Staring at him, I worked my thoughts to move beyond immediate actions. Forcing myself to backtrack and realize why this happened, backtrack to what caused this... it led me into dangerous territory.

Recalling the words made my chest and stomach churn.  The words Carter said, the words that came before Jackson shot him.... Carter was taunting, saying things I didn't understand.  I didn't get it or what the hell any of it meant. The one thing that absolutely went beyond confusion though was the name he said. Jackson Higgins.

What did he mean by that? It couldn't be true, real, that Jackson's last name actually matched mine. Fuck, were we in another world, a dream, was this a drug trip? What the hell happened? How did any fraction of what Carter proudly said make any sense?! I didn't know!  All I wanted to know was why Jackson would shoot him? Was it because it was true? That he was somehow related to me? His actions didn't call Carter's claim bullshit....

Lost in a mess of questions, confusion, and anger, I finally stood. Gripping the unlatched cuffs, I returned to the road with a stronger stride. Each step I took, it became more clear. Who the fuck knows how... but Jackson would not have shot Carter if he was lying. He wouldn't have done it. Instead, he would have called him nuts. He would have been just as stunned as Luke and I at Carter's announcement. Unfortunately, that is not what happened. Instead, he rushed out and shot him.

"How is he?" Luke asked as I came closer.

No longer pinned to the road, Jackson now stood by the car.  His eyes were angled down towards his tensely crossed arms. Whether out of shame from failing to kill Carter or because of what Carter said, I didn't know.

I stopped in front of Jackson.  "What was he talking about?" I demanded to his diverted eyes.

"Albany," Luke said louder, drawing my attention.  Standing a foot away, his gun was pointed towards Jackson.  He nervously glanced around for any approaching cars. "How is Carter?"

"Shot in the shoulder.  I want to know why," I said, looking back to Jackson.  There was always something weird about him. I hope reality isn't as bad as it seems.

Luke grabbed the handcuffs I forgot I retrieved.  He latched Jackson's wrist inside the car to the handle above the open window. Luke ran out of sight to help Carter, leaving me standing there. I couldn't move.  Couldn't look away from where Jackson was still adverting his eyes, his scowl returning.

"Why did he call you Jackson Higgins?"

The man's chest moved faster, breath increasing. The muscles under his skin tightened, noticeably in his dangling arm. After a long moment, he turned his head and brown gaze to me. They were searching mine.  Tense.  And withholding everything he kept secret.  When a small sign of sorrow seeped in, he looked down with that scowl.

"Why?!" I shouted. The man didn't say a word, didn't deny shit. It made the panic rise in me, realizing Carter's words held truth. This was real. And it didn't feel like it. "Look at me! Why? Who are you?"

"You heard him," he finally said.  "He said my name. He knew I would shoot him if he revealed it."

There it was.  Confirmation.  I cringed away at hearing him validate it.  That Jackson Higgins was his name. Ugh! Jackson Higgins... fuck, I hated how it sounded. I hated it. All I could think was how? How was he family? I had none! None that cared or I knew of! What was this?!

Fighting away the desire to beat the shit out of him, I moved my gaze cautiously back to him. With new eyes, to the stranger he was. The fury kept building in me, the gears in my head reeling.  "How is that your name?!" I growled.

No answer – from him anyway.

Being entirely focused on the handcuffed Jackson, I didn't hear the approaching shuffle or Carter's hard breathing until they were in hearing range of my question.  Turning around, Luke walked beside the injured man.  He watched him in worry, but Carter was clearly showing his capability of walking. When they reached us, Luke's worry went to me.

Carter's teeth curved up into a satisfying smile when his eyes caught mine.  "He's your father, cupcake!"  Furry swept over the satisfaction when he glanced to Jackson. He leaned in his direction and hissed, "There asshole! That's what you fucking deserve for missing!"

Carter's words made us all freeze in place.  Luke's eyes grew as wide as I'm sure mine were.  Father.  It meant dad, as in my dad, my father. Father. The word reverberated through me.  It paralyzed my heart. It became hard to breath; my brain was getting fucked. Father? Father? What did I just hear because it surely could not have been that.

My eyes were locked on Carter.  Though he was covered in his own blood, he didn't care.  There was smugness in his face.  And when I glanced to the man he called out... that's when I knew.  I knew with certainty that it was somehow true.

When my insides unlocked, I was caving in.  Falling and crumbling and fading and everything! My lord, what the fuck? What the fuck?!  How, how, how?! How was this possible?!  While my chest was ripping, throat stinging with heartbreak, there was just as much anger. The 'how' didn't matter over the anger. Pure hatred was suddenly injected into my veins.

I stared at Jackson.  His face, the fear and anger in his tense expression.  His eyebrows.  Ears, nose, neck. I took in his hair, the texture and structure, his brown eyes and – god, they matched mine! No! His eyes fucking matched mine! They really did.  I was shocked that Clare didn't attempt carving or changing my eyes since she did that with other facial features that reminded her of my dad.

Dad... holy shit. 

There wasn't a thing about this I understood. And I didn't care. The hate I always had towards whoever my father was now had a target.  Had a person to finally be released onto.  I vomited my hate and let it rush out.

"How? How?!" I shouted. "You ruined me! You ruined me!" Instinctively winding my fist back, I slugged him in the nose as hard as I could. And I mean as hard as I could. It produced an audible crack when he recoiled in pain.  Blood seeped from his nostrils.  While the asshole let out a groan, I ignored my stinging knuckles and got in his face.  "Do you know what you did?! Do you know what you did to me?!"

"Albany, there wa—!"

"SHUT UP!  DO YOU HAVE A FUCKING CLUE WHAT YOU DID TO ME?! Soulless piece of shit, you wrecked my life!" I screamed. The anger boiled in my bloodstream.  I imagined it all. Remembered everything. The abuse, the hate, the insanity claim, the bullies, the degrading treatment she put me through. Everything it led to!  It added fuel to my fire.  "You tore me apart, you left us, you left and betrayed me! Who does that? Who would do that to their family? What kind of person would do that? And why do that to me?! You let her torture me! You let her ruin me! Take everything good away from me! You caused every-fucking-thing!" my lungs screamed.

His jaw was clenched tight.  Even when I pushed my face closer and yelled more, he shut his stupid matching eyes!  There was obviously a lot behind his cover, but he didn't show it.  The asshole took everything I threw at him.  Including another punch in the face, not helping his curved nose.

After he composed himself, he was still avoiding my eyes.  I screamed through my thick throat.  "Look at me! Look what she fucking did to me!" I shoved my wrists up to his face, displaying the scars from Clare cutting me.  Faded scars were scattered along my arms too.  "Look at what she did! Look at what you did to me!  You—" my voice cracked and I took in a hard breath.

This wasn't enough. I wanted to hurt him. I wanted him dead.

I stopped my badly needed assault and glanced over to Luke. His arm was now wrapped around Carter, who clearly was getting another dose of sudden spasms. Not nearly as bad as before though, which allowed Luke to drown in the shock of hearing who Jackson really was.

Luke was pale with parted lips, but all I focused on was the gun tucked against him.  "Luke, I need your gun," I said, marching up to where he was supporting Carter.  Reaching for his weapon, he quickly turned away from me.

"Give me your gun," I persisted, moving around him to gain contact with the side holding his gun.

"No. Albany!" he snapped, slapping away my hand with his free one. "Stop!"

He kept trying to dodge me and slap my hand away, but him holding up Carter gave me the advantage.  I managed to finally snag it from him and walked back towards the man who deserved to be dead. If he didn't abandon me, or at least cared, I might have actually grew up happy. I might have had a mother who wouldn't have gone full blown insane. I would have at least had someone to protect me. But no. I had a shitty life that led to the gang, I had a dad who sold me! He was the reason I knew how to shoot a gun and defend myself. My life wouldn't have seen any of this chaos and death if it wasn't for him.

Before I could raise it towards him, strong hands gripped my arms from behind, forcing them down.  Fucking Luke! I didn't even hear him approach! Ugh! Groaning and grunting, I tried my hardest to break away from him. 

"Let me go!" I growled.  I was having trouble holding onto the gun.

He eventually managed to lock my arms with his behind my back.  It allowed him to securely take the gun.  Of course, he had to take control, had to take it when it belonged rightfully to me! Me! I deserved this! 

"This is none of your business!" I shouted, trying to break away from him.  My eyes stayed glued on Jackson.  His eyes were wide, but not from feeling threatened. That bitch should though! I would have preferred that. Instead, there was sadness and struggle and anger. It let to him subconsciously straining against the handcuffs.

I didn't stop fighting.  It resulted in Luke roughly shaking me in his grip, getting a better hold of me.  "Stop, stop, Albany! I only have one pair of handcuffs!" he hissed.  "Don't make me use them on you instead of the suicidal freak I need to remove a bullet from and the one who shot him! Quit! There is no time for this."

Luke didn't loosen his grip until I stopped struggling. Once I satisfied his fear of me shooting the man – or he ran out of patience – he turned me around towards him.  I realized there was a lot of panic within him he was trying to control. His green eyes radiated his fight to keep control.

"We'll deal with him in a minute, I need you to help me.  Do you understand? He's not going anywhere," Luke said, nodding to the cuffed prick.

I didn't want to understand, but I did. "Fine," I mumbled, biting my lip and looking down. I needed to remember that; he's not going anywhere. I could stay calm long enough – hopefully. But damn... he's my dad. My dad. I didn't know anything anymore.

"Thank you," he said with an exasperated sigh, fully freeing me from his hold.  "Now, help me get Carter out of sight and in the back seat."

Forcing away any question, worry, hateful thought I had towards Jackson, we moved to where Luke left Carter in order to restrain me. He was sitting on the ground, breathing hard again after fighting off the sudden pain that struck him.  Seeing us approach, he lowered his eyebrows. "Since he didn't do it... will someone please kill me?" he said, struggling to his feet.  

"Do you need anything? Water? We can help you move.." Luke said. 

"Do I look handicap? I was shot in the shoulder," Carter snorted. 

"Then what's with the freak-outs?" I snapped.

He sighed and shrugged with his uninjured shoulder.  "A pinched nerve? I don't fucking know, I don't fucking care! The only help I need is for someone to kill me!" he said, eyes growing in anger.  Luke gripped his arm and guided him towards the car, even as Carter scowled and yelled.  "You assholes are wasting your time! I'm going to do it eventually!"

Walking with them, avoiding even looking at Jackson as we neared, Luke opened the backdoor of the car.  "Wait until I say to help him in. Watch him," Luke told me, quickly rounding the car. He opened the backdoor on the other side. 

"On second thought, maybe I do need some support," Carter smirked, draping his arm around my shoulder. I shook it away, but kept my head tilted towards Carter. If I looked at the bastard handcuffed two feet to my right, I might snap. 

Unfortunately, all it resulted in was seeing Carter stare daggers pass me to Jackson.  "For someone who never missed on the job, you fuck it up now," Carter said, shaking his head. 

"Don't worry, I'll keep my word!" Jackson shouted.

I could hardly stand this! What was Luke doing? Why wait to put him in?! Dipping my head, I peered into the car and saw his hands frantically working. He transferred all weapons to the trunk. We didn't want Carter redecorating the car interior with his brains.   Now, Luke was digging even further under the seat.

By the time Luke was ready and I helped him lay down, towels covered the long backseat.  He handed him another to press against the wound.  Luke also found the first-aid kit, water, and more towels too.  All of that was apparently for later.

"We can't do this here, we need to go somewhere else – and not where cars will eventually pass by," he said once he rushed back around to me.

I didn't even think about getting back on the road... I didn't think about much at all. How could I?  After hearing what Luke said, I finally granted my eyes to Jackson. Anger already swelled back in me.

He leaned against the car, jaw clenched hard and eyes on the road.  There wasn't any space in his concealed emotions to care about the blood dripping from his broken nose.  There wasn't any space for me to care either – about anything regarding him.

"Jackson's not coming," I said sternly. 

His powerful gaze shot up.  "You need me."

Whoa. Need him? It was almost as astounding as the words 'Jackson Higgins.'

For the years spent not knowing Jackson's true identity, I betrayed myself. I did betray myself.  I've allowed him to be in my life.  Allowed him to be my guardian.  Even a friend to some extent. It made me sick just thinking about that! That I gave him that pleasure!  Now that I knew, he thinks I'll allow him to continue with us? Because I need him? I did not need him in my life. He's too late to the party.

I stalked up to him, restraining my fists to my side.  "I needed you when I was beat, cut, and tortured!" I shouted into his eyes that finally were on mine.  "I needed you when she tried mutilating your features out of me!  I needed you every second in that hell! I dreamed you would come back.  Stop everything.  Not only didn't you save me, it's your fault for what happened to me. You apparently didn't think I needed you then. I absolutely do not need you now!"

Staring into his face... I saw something that broke my heart. My dad.  Not Jackson.

His eyes broke away, pain flooding them he couldn't hide. Running his free hand up, he gripped his hair, breathing hard.  Looking back to me, he shook his head.  "You need my help," he whispered. There was a foreign note in his voice, a desperate and sad tone. "More than you think. You know nothing and you don't understand—"

"I don't care! I don't."

"Albany," Luke interjected behind me.  "If you want answers, he has them."

"Like what?" I hissed.

Luke sighed.  "Well, how he's apparently in the FBI, yet sold you off—"

"He's a liar! We're a family of freaks and liars.  The end."  Though Luke was raising valid points, I couldn't care. This was it for me.  If I was to keep the amount of sanity I have, I don't need him around.  "I know everything I need to know. You signed a contract and sold me," I said, squinting my eyes on Jackson. "Is that true?"  Hearing him say it would be enough to not allow him to continue with us.

Jackson stared down at me for a long moment.  "I signed a contract... and made a deal."

"He fucking sold you! Now get this bullet out of me so I can kill myself later since you assholes refuse to do it now!" Carter shouted in annoyance from the backseat.

That was enough for me. I already knew it was true.  Reid himself validated it when he first came after me.  Jackson dancing around the question and not refuting Carter's claim proved it even more.

"We do need to go," Luke said, the rush and nervousness more loud in his voice.

"Then let's go. Get your handcuffs.  We're leaving my lovely father here. If I want answers, Carter seems to have enough," I said.

Luke wanted to get on the road, help Carter, but I knew he disagreed with me. "Albany, are you sure you want to leave him?"

I spun around.  Was it so hard to grasp that I wasn't allowing the guy to come with us? The dude who sold me off and made Clare go nuts.  "Luke, he isn't coming! You won't let me shoot him, we're leaving him here! Now, like you said, let's go.  I'm done!"

Though he being the rational one, Luke knew I was serious.  It's not like he had much sympathy for Jackson either. That's why he managed to remove the handcuffs without a word and get in the driver's side.

Jackson stood before me, staring down at me. "I need to protect you," he said in his last effort, aggravation showing.

"Go to hell like your ex-wife did." I shook my head, getting into the passenger side.

Luke started the car and we were back on the road. My eyes lingered on Jackson's figure in the passenger side window. And even as it disappeared once we gained distance, my eyes didn't leave that mirror.

***

The priority was finding a place where Luke could remove the bullet.  The issue was... there was nowhere. We were on such a desolate highway in the desert, there was absolutely nothing in sight. There was nowhere besides the side of the road. And Luke wasn't too keen on performing a doctor's task on the hot sandy ground.  More importantly, anyone who passes will take notice.  They could recognize the injured man as the serial killer. 

We needed to find a private place with enough space.  Carter was losing blood and the bullet was still lodged in his shoulder.  He didn't seem in pain and acted calmer than us.  It wasn't enough to stop Luke from speeding. He found it worth the risk. I personally didn't.  Even with nobody around, we were back in Idaho territory. We didn't need another cop pulling us over. After all, our cop-shooter was out of commission.

Staring obsessively ahead at any sign of a structure, something finally caught our eye.  It was an abandoned small gas station.  This one had a large wooden work shed built next to it.  We discovered there was no source of light in the shed, but this shed was our only option.

Five minutes later, we had the car parked at the shed entrance.  The headlights shinned in, solving the visibility issue.  However, the bright lights highlighted other potential issues.  Like how dirty, dusty, and cluttered it was.  It painted the space in grey.  A large workbench surrounded the walls, covered in old tools and equipment foreign to me. 

We helped settle Carter on the ground under layers of towels.  After, Luke and I went searching for anything that could help.  He needed something to assist him in digging out the bullet.  When he showed me what he discovered after rustling through the workbench tools, I cringed.

"This should do," he said, approaching me with the tool he was holding.  My eyes widened.

"Will it even work?" I asked.  "It's starting to rust. It might make it worse." 

The needle nose pliers Luke found looked incredibly dangerous. The dull silver tool was covered in spots of rust.  At least it was smaller than most of these chunky old items. 

He inspected it for a moment.  "If we sterilize it, everything should be fine," he nodded.  Rushing to the first aid kit sitting next to Carter on the floor, he bent down and searched through the box.

"Let me see it," Carter said, raising his bloody hand towards Luke. With the lights casting in and on his face, there wasn't much he could see.

Luke handed him the plyers.  Carter resting his head back against the towel, he held the tool above him.  His squinting eyes widened. He burst out laughing.  "You got to be fucking kidding," he wailed through his laughter.  "This goes more towards my cause than yours!"

After grabbing the liquid best suited as a disinfectant, Luke snagged the plyers back that Carter found amusing.  It was uneasy, seeing him take such humor in his state.  Luke didn't show anything.  The haste in his movements was the only thing that gave away his shaky nerves.  He at least had basic training for situations like these.  To be fair, more than just a small amount of medical skills came into play.  When he got to work... he stayed calm and patient – as much as anyone could be.  It was a mystery to me how Luke handled it.  Carter did not make it easy.

"Keep holding him," he encouraged.

While Carter didn't fight our effort, he couldn't stop himself from twitching every few moments out of pain.  It was making it difficult for Luke to make progress if he jerked like he was.  Therefore, I had the exhausting task of kneeling above his head, holding Carter down by his shoulders for whenever a spasm struck.

"Can you get it? Do you see it?" I glanced from Carter's tense face and flaring nostrils to Luke. His eyes were attempting to burry themselves as deep as the plyers, face hovering a few inches above his work. 

"You know what I see?" Carter chimed in.  "Me dead! Just fucking do it now. Or leave me, I've lost too much blood. I'm a lost cause. You guys should just go."

Though we ignored his words, he had a point about one thing.  It was nothing but a bloody mess.  Luke smeared ointment around the wound and had other supplies in reach.  He did everything to prevent infection.  All I could think was... blood. Too much blood. And flesh around it, which Luke needed to work around.  With his free hand, he bent back the split skin with our knife.  It allowed visibility and access to the bullet, which the plyers in his other hand needed to take care of.   

However, unlike all medical professionals, Luke was sprawled over Carter, forcing just enough weight on Carter's lower half to prevent his occasional twitch.  I couldn't ignore the awkward position.  His stomach pressed against him, allowing no personal space. It made my brain turn in an interesting direction.  If I took a picture of the sight, you can bet I would look back at it and laugh. If Carter had a vagina, Luke would already be inside. 

In fact, I could probably sell the picture off as porn.  Carter's visual hard breathing and grunts would back up the picture.  We would just need the use some white-out over the blood and wound. And a bonus, the white-out could pass as cum!

Though I considered that a normal thought on a regular day, it wasn't in our current situation.  My own humor surprised me. I didn't expect it.  Or maybe I should have expected it after so much in just one day. 

The thought was almost like a drug with the relief it granted.  Just as I smirked, Luke answered.  "I almost got it...." he whispered.

"Ugh fucker!" Carter screamed and jerked harder than the other times.  It snapped my focus back. I pressed harder down on his shoulders.

"I got it, stay still," Luke said, slowly easing his arm up and away with the needle nose plyers.  The bullet was pinched between the rusted silver fingers.

Though it was out, Luke saw that as only half the job.  He spent nearly as much time cleaning the wound and wrapping it in bandage.  After all blood was washed from his body and his shirt replaced, we moved to the shed entrance for more light. Carter sat against the frame, resting under the sunlight.  Luke stood next to him, bagging the bloody clothes. Both were squinting from the unneeded light, which I kept my back to.

"Albany, will you get the lights?" Luke asked, nodding behind me to the car.

Though my mind was a mess, there was no forgetting. With Carter's issue solved, reality faded back in. I shut the headlights off.  Then, I did more.

I grabbed the handcuffs, returning to Carter.  I bent down and latched them around his wrists.

Neither saw it coming, shock crossing their faces. There was a quality to Luke's stare that was different. Admiration. I guess he was surprised I remembered. Carter wanted to kill himself.  And he was more capable without a lodged bullet. 

The reason I suddenly gave a shit was because he had answers. Answers I didn't want from Jackson. Hell, I'm sure any answer of Jackson's would have been bullshit. But hey, since Carter was apparently in on his little secret, you know he has a lot of information.

Carter groaned, staring daggers up at where I stood before him.  Squinting, his right eye was still puffy blue from yesterday, adding to the menacing effect of his stare. "Look.  I'm injured, can hardly stand.  Actually, I've taken a lot out of this experience. I want to live. I want to live a happy fucking life, alright? I don't need the damn claws."

"Don't you worry.  You'll live," I said, crossing my arms.  "Because we can't do a thing before we have answers."

Luke turned more towards me, nearing me. I turned to him. For the first time, his sympathy and worry poured from his eyes.  It's not like we talked about what happened with Jackson.  There was no time to talk about the countless things we needed to reevaluate. 

Luke crossed his damp arms over his chest. The man had to wash them several times with the several water bottles we had. "What kind of answers?" he asked softly, eyebrows dipped.   

The meaning was obvious.  Did I want answers based around Jackson's personal story, him being my dad?  Or answers about what we needed to know to move forward. Honestly, I would prefer not to be reminder of my dad.  Then again, I had a feeling everything we learn will be connected to our goal and who he was personally.  After all, he did sell me.  That was a part of our quest and personal. 

I sighed, glancing back down to Carter.  It was already such a hot and sweaty day.  But the additional sweat that misted over my face was from nervousness and anticipation. "All answers. I want to know everything." 

He stared at me with a smug smile.  The sunlight made it bright, white, and powerful.  "What makes you think I'm saying a word? What makes you think I would tell you anything?" He raised his wrists and shook them, making the cuffs clank and shake.

That is where he was right. Groaning, I craned my neck before rubbing it.  "I'm assuming the only way we get answers is if we kill you?"

"You assumed right."

"Doesn't sound like a bad deal at all," I mumbled.

Luke beside me displayed a thoughtful expression.  Even though his head was dipped down to stare at Carter, imaging an invisible 50 pounds on his shoulders was more convincing.  Deep lines caressed his stressful forehead. His concentration was far away, lost in a race.  It was well justified too why he spoke.

"What if there was a way that we keep you from prison?" he asked.  "That is your suicidal motivation, right?"

My breath caught. If I wasn't so shocked, I probably would be able to tell you if my jaw drop.  All I can say is probably.  If Carter happens to be caught, I didn't see how Luke would be able to save him from prison. He is a mass murderer! One cop couldn't pull that off. 

Carter even knew it.  He started laughing immediately.  "You serious?"

"Yeah man, are you serious?" I mumbled under my breath, looking between them.

Luke was serious.  All that stress weighing on him was gone now that he was voicing his solution.  He showed a calm and controlled demeanor. It was reflected in his smooth voice when he explained.  Though I believed his idea was crazy, his blank and calm nature half convinced me to side with him.

"In the off chance you are found and arrested, I can get you out of it. I have enough money to grab the FBI's attention.  If we can take down the organization, do what the FBI have been attempting for years, they will be indebted to us.  They can get you out of this."

I didn't say a word, didn't even want to look at Carter. Because what Luke said... sounded more like a hope than anything. He couldn't guarantee him anything. Especially because we weren't sure of anything anymore. Carter knew more than us; the FBI helping us could have been bullshit for all we knew.

Carter didn't confirm that though.  "What bullshit." Instinctively gripping his patched wound under his shirt, he stood up. Blue and calculating eyes narrowed on Luke.  "You don't know anything; you don't know if the FBI will bother."

"Enough money, enough of a push, can do it," Luke said.  I wasn't sure whether to believe him or not.  I wouldn't dare speak a word though.  This conversation, on Luke's side, was being crafted carefully.

"And yet, that is after everything is over. After the fact and if the plan is successful," he scoffed.  Running a hand through his damp and blood-free hair, he laughed.  "I could be spotted anytime. Most likely sooner. Everyone knows my face; someone will recognize me.  And it won't be in three months after we only might succeed.  Don't even try."

Luke was persistent and it was my turn to admire him. Admire his strong and stern gaze.  He wasn't fazed by whatever Carter threw at him.  "Well if you get arrested, which you wouldn't, I would come forward. I would contact the FBI that day—" 

Carter laughed. "Such complex ideas," he interrupted, glancing to me, smiling.  His eyes found Luke and he sighed softly.  "All because you are too much of a pussy.  Hell, you don't even need to kill me," he said in a goading voice.  "All you need to do is... let me go. It's easier than all these silly ideas.  Leave me like you did Jackson, I'll answer your questions."

Pshh, didn't sound like a bad idea. Maybe that was just me being heartless.  Luke sternly shook his head.  "That's no better than killing.  I would be letting you do it."

Carter shrugged.  "I don't know your problem. You are acting like I'm a good person.  Maybe all it would take is telling you a few stories and you would want me dead."

Luke ignored him, though I was sure it was true. "There are other ways," Luke said, not breaking away from Carter's powerful eyes.

"Like what?" he raised a brow. "Jackson is still going to kill me, first of all. And if I'm arrested, they can still charge me. They will know I was once one of them. That's easily life in prison."

"We can get you out of here," Luke proposed.  Unlike before, a small sign of distress came through when Luke jaw tightened.  "Out of the country. Nobody is aware of your new identity. Everything is already established. It's simple."

Obviously, there was a lot packed behind that proposal. Luke paused before he went on, wanting to see if Carter would even be on board. Finally, this was what sparked his interest.

All amusement drained, and curious remained in Carter's voice.  "How? How are you going to fly me anywhere? Cameras are everywhere."

Pursing his lips in thought, he offered a small confident smile. One I could even believe.  It gave me hope, even made me feel a spec of light.  He could always do that and I was quickly realizing how he was the only one I could ever trust.  Everyone else is crooked, crazy, and sadistic liars. 

"It wouldn't matter because nobody is going to recognize you on the spot. Once you leave the country, it doesn't matter if people discover the footage days later. If you are out of the country, you are free."

After exchanging a few more details, Carter finally agreed. It was nice to hear he was open to something besides suicide. "Okay, and after I answer all these questions, when can we make this happen?"

Luke's soft green eyes found mine. They were searching, actively seeking something. Whether my approval or input, I didn't know.  Maybe he knew he just needed to be careful with his next words. 

Turning back to the cuffed man, he calmly continued.  "Not yet. That's the condition. You need to stay until we at least understand where to look for the headquarters.  Once you can direct us closer, I will get you on a plane out of here. Until then, you need to be patient." Pausing, his gaze on Carter turned more intense, more observant.  "A new life is better than suicide. Since I know how much you were looking forward to this new identity, waiting a few weeks will be worth it."

Carter took a long and serious moment to think about it, searching Luke's eyes. Weighing his options.  I would be doing the same. He was so dead set on dying, this opened a whole other opportunity. One that he found possible that didn't involve prison. 

It would be interesting to see how Luke planned on carrying this out. Because honestly, I had a feeling he was talking out of his ass.  Luke was convincing, but actually assisting and allowing Carter to flee the country... I didn't think so. He was an honest man and always wanted to do the right thing. And with what he said a few nights ago about regaining faith as an officer... helping a killer flee wouldn't help.

Then again, if it was that or him killing himself, I suppose I understood. He sure seemed sincere.  He even held out his hand towards Carter. To shake on it.

Carter eyed it, finally smirking.  "And if I agree... would you even trust me to leave your sight? Would you trust me off the leash? After all, I do have my own trailer waiting for me."

Luke said the first thing I knew was true. "If you agree, what can I do? We can't afford babysitting you and I would like to think you wanted a new life more than death.  I think that's motivation enough to not screw yourself on this deal."

He nodded, eyes turning to rest on me. Studying me. As if I was an important part of this equation and conversation I happily stayed out of.  "So... I give you answers, help you when we get there, and then you get me out of this place?" he asked Luke.  His eyes then found Luke's outstretched hand.

"Exactly," Luke nodded.

After Carter shook his hand... it was that moment that kicked off my racing heart. As if my overwhelming feelings were returning. Of course, my feelings were all over today. Each time I reflected on Jackson being my dad... it made me restless. I hated him, didn't want anything to do with him. Yet, I wouldn't understand a thing until Carter explains everything to us.

"I don't think you want to start the interview here under the sun with nothing around," he smirked, more directly to me.  "It will be a lot to take in – which I genuinely will take pleasure in sharing."

Though I wanted answers, I more than agreed. I wanted to be comfortable and prepared – preferably with a toilet near and water.  Because whatever he reveals, it will change me. 

It will change my life.  It will change everything I ever knew or assumed about my father. And it would piece together all the confusion. Of how Jackson was in the FBI yet sold me.  I would learn his real motives and hopefully would learn what his agenda was. What his goal was. I would learn what was truth and what I thought was truth.  

The possibilities and questions ran in a track around my mind. One question though hit me that would resolve some confusion. Plus, it wasn't as serious of a question.  "I'm curious about one thing though before we leave."

Carter's excitement lit in his eyes. Crazy bastard... one minute, ready to die. The next, hopeful. And what was fucked up was he didn't act much different between those minutes.

Soaking in that pleasure he mentioned, he came to stand before me. Staring down into my eyes. His blue ones danced in mine, full to the brim with information.  "What question can't wait?"

"It's not that important, but after months of this... I'm curious.  How long did you know about Jackson's secret?" Images of the past reached me. Carter and Jackson talking, the times they were alone, the memories of the two of them together leading up to this. How long could Carter have known? Did he find out right away? The answer blew my mind.

Carter's smile only grew. It was upsetting to my stomach. The glint in his eye reflected smugness.  "It was never a secret to me. I've known Jackson for many years."

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I spent a lot of time on this one - so much so that I really didn't fully edit it. So I am curious what you thought! Please let me know! I am excited to update more soon. Especially because Carter will be doing some explaining....