As the doors shut, Ethan exhaled in relief. But suddenly a hand sneaked its way between the metal and thrust the doors back open.
“Don’t shoot! I have the boy!” Ethan yelled and he crouched down to Teddy and wrapped his arms around the boy’s body.
But when he looked up, he realized that it wasn’t a guard who had slipped on board, but his father.
Scott was pale, his hair frizzy, and his hands shook.
“Push the close door button, dammit,” Scott said. And Grant did as he was told.
Ethan smiled. “You swore,” he said to his dad. “You never swear.”
“I swear,” Scott answered. “You just never heard me.” He was carrying a cardboard box. “You won’t have time...when you reach the top. And everyone will be coming for you, do you understand? I can stall them...”
“Dad,” Ethan said and his voice broke. “This wasn’t the way.”
“This is the only way.”
Ethan nodded and tried not to cry. Grant was wide-eyed in the corner. He stepped forward.
“Mr. King...you can’t...you shouldn’t...”
“I’m saving my sons,” Scott answered. “You hear me?” He looked down to Teddy, who was watching everything wide-eyed; Scott smiled at him. “It’s okay, little man. Everything is going to be okay.”
“Be strong, Teddy,” Ethan echoed. He picked up Teddy and held him tightly. “Trust Uncle Ethan and stay close.”
The doors opened to the helipad. Two armed guards rushed across the tarmacked roof and Scott stepped forward.
“I have a bomb!” he shouted. “Stand back! Or I’ll blow the whole tower up! You hear me?”
One of the guards radioed down to the tower. “He has a bomb. What should we do?”
“Stand down!” someone barked and the guards lowered their weapons.
“Drop them!” Scott demanded.
The guards set their weapons on the ground and backed away.
Ethan set Teddy down and Grant took the child’s other hand. Together they ran toward the waiting helicopter with Hank in the pilot seat. Scott followed close behind. Ethan turned to his father and shook his head; the wind was flapping all around them, and between the wind and the helicopter, it was hard to hear.
“Why?” Ethan called. “Why did you change your mind? Why are you doing this?”
“All I ever wanted to do was to save my family,” Scott yelled over the din. “All I ever wanted to do was protect you from the people who wanted to hurt you.”
“You did, Dad!” Ethan yelled back. “You did. This is suicide...”
“No!” Scott shook his head. He rushed forward and shoved the box into Ethan’s hands. “It’s on a timer. An egg timer. Set it and get out as fast as you can. I don’t know how you’re going to do this, son, but you better make damn sure this works.”
“Okay,” Ethan said, his voice shaking.
Grant yelled from inside the helicopter. He had strapped Teddy into a seat and leaned out the open door. “Ethan! Now! Now! Now!”
Ethan turned and jumped into the waiting chopper, and immediately Hank lifted them off the ground and began soaring over the roaring waters. He held the box tightly to his chest and watched as his father got smaller and further away. The guards rushed him, tackled him to the helipad, and still his father kept his eyes trained on the helicopter as they disappeared into the clouds.
His father had just purchased him, Grant, and Teddy a ticket off Kymberlin and paid for it with his own life
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
The chopper blades cut through the air and disturbed the silence of the clown-centric fun land. Darla stopped trying to pull the paddleboat out of the small pool next to the kiddie rides and turned her face toward the sky. She had waited long enough for Blair to return with Teddy; the paddleboat was her next step. Dean and Ainsley had given up on trying to convince her it was a bad idea, and so she stood alone in the foot deep water, dragging the baby blue boat over to the edge and preparing to drag it out to the sea.
But she knew that sound. She knew a helicopter was closing in on the beach. Abandoning her project, she leapt out of the pool and rushed down the cement. Dean emerged from his nest under the counter in the balloon darts tent and Ainsley, who had climbed into one of the Ferris wheel cars, stood up and held on to the railing. She shouted down below, “Coming straight for the beach!”
“Guns!” Dean shouted. “Guns! And positions!”
Ainsley wrapped her legs over the edge, grabbed on to the metal beam and flung herself into the next car. From there she was able to glide down to the edge and shimmy her way to the grass below. Darla checked her weapon and then rushed to the wall separating the carnival from the beach. She watched through a small hole in the fence and her breath caught in her chest.
The helicopter landed and sand blew up around the door. The blades continued to swirl and flooded the area with deafening sound. Three figures ducked and hopped out and tore up the beach. Two big. One little.
Ethan. Grant.
And a little curly-haired boy.
Oh, how she recognized everything about him from so far away, as if her heart was a beacon tuned straight to Teddy. She knew his gait, the swing of his arms. The sight of him, unharmed and rushing toward up the beach was overwhelming. She had waited for this moment and nothing prepared her for the crushing emotion that poured over her.
Darla began to sob. Her tears blinded her. She tore back through the Palace Playland and out to the street, wiping her eyes and seeing only the fuzzy outlines approaching up the coast. Her legs had never pumped so hard and her heart hurt inside her chest. She rushed out past the retaining wall and hit the open street to the beach.
Grant was holding Teddy’s hand and helping him run up the sand. And Ethan was behind them, struggling to keep his balance. The helicopter ascended into the air; it was up and traveling north, away from them and into the sky. She watched it disappear behind a cloud.
“Teddy! TEDDY!” Darla cried and she ran straight into him, sweeping him up off the beach and into her arms. She smothered him with kisses and covered him with her own tears and snot. The sand clung to her wet pants and shoes, but Darla didn’t care. She sunk down to the ground and held Teddy so tight that she was worried her heart might burst.
“Mama!” Teddy cried. “Mama!” His little hands wrapped around her neck. He kissed her cheek.
“Are you real?” Darla asked and she laughed as she grabbed Teddy’s cheek and gave it a small pinch. He smiled and she tucked him closer. She inhaled his scent—fruity and fresh. He didn’t smell like her Teddy; she wanted to roll him around in the dirt and muddy him up—scrub him clean of evidence that strangers had kept him away from her. Those were weeks that were gone from her forever. That was time she’d never get back. She wanted to hold him tighter, squeeze him harder; she wished there was a way to physically express her relief and her love and her joy.
“I missed you, Mama,” Teddy said, and he was crying, too. Big tears. He kissed her cheek. “Your face is salty. Are you sad?”
“No, baby boy. I’m not sad,” Darla sobbed. She laughed. And cried and hugged him. “I’m not sad. I’m not sad at all. I missed you, too.”
She pulled him back and inspected him. He looked good. He was wearing clothes she didn’t recognize and brand-new canvas tennis shoes.
“I thought you were gone,” he whispered. “I thought you were never coming back.”
“I’m so sorry,” she mumbled, and she pulled him in close again. “I’m sorry it took me so long.”