Page 62 of Silk and Steel

I know I don’t want to take that risk.

I finally make it through the space between fences. A tight squeeze, even for me, but I make it. Just in time, too. When I check my phone, it turns out the white truck parked across the street is my ride.

Thank goodness the driver isn’t one of the chattier ones. The last thing I want right now is to have to talk to anyone. The ride to the airport seems like it takes forever. I keep looking over my shoulder, expecting to see Cole’s truck behind us.

I’m not sure if I’m hoping to see it, or dreading it. Maybe both. Part of me wants to be stopped.

But not the bigger part. I know I have to see this through. No one else is going to get hurt because of me.

The Burbank airport is tiny compared to LAX, but I’m less likely to be found by Cole or his associates there. That’s probably why Julian wanted to meet here. I’m not a complete idiot. Julian wants me to go to Colombia, I’ll go, but nothing says I have to do anything he wants once I get there.

I’m not giving up, or sacrificing myself. I’m using myself as bait to lure Julian and his associates out of the country. I don’t think they’ll be able to hurt my family if they’re thousands of miles away.

But now that I’ve done what he wants, he has no reason to hurt them. I hope.

I settle into a seat at the terminal. Looks like I’m in for a long wait. My phone is off. I can only assume Cole is blowing it up right now. I wish I could talk to him. The note I left wasn’t nearly enough, and I know it.

The shadows stretch out longer as the sun creeps across the sky. I stop in a restaurant and pay too much for a turkey club sandwich and an iced tea. I barely even taste the food. I don’t even have an appetite, but if I don’t eat I know I’ll regret it later.

Someone sits down at my table. Annoyed, I look up, hoping it’s not a protester come to give me an earful.

My blood runs cold when I look into the eyes of Julian.

He’s shaven his head, and dressed himself like a punk rocker. But it’s him. His chilling gaze can’t be disguised.

This is it. We’re in a densely populated area surrounded by security. One scream, and he’s done for.

I suck in a deep breath of air, intending to let it out as the most shocking, piercing holler of all time. Moving with surprising speed, Julian clamps a hand over my mouth.

“Don’t do it. If you scream, then I won’t be able to tell my good friend the Surgeon not to pay your mom a visit. You know, she’s moved into a motel room across the street from the hospital? Not one with very good security, I’m afraid.”

He shows me his phone. Phil Blumbert poses outside a run-down motel, right next to my Mom’s car.

“Unless I send him a specific message, he’s going to go inside and play with your Mom for a while. Sometimes he can play for days before he finally gets bored.”

“What do you want, Julian? I lost the bodyguard and I met you here. You can stop threatening my family now. You’ve won.”

“Not quite yet, I haven’t. I’m glad you listened like a good girl, Emory. I’ve got our trip to Colombia covered via a private airline. Too much scrutiny with a commercial airline, you know.”

I can’t take the risk that he’s bluffing. I’m worried sick about my Mom. God, I should have thought about her. The police are watching the hospital, but not my mother. One phone call to Platinum Security and I probably could have arranged some protection for her.

Instead, I’m utterly at Julian’s mercy. Again. It seems like no matter what I do, he always winds up with the upper hand.

One thing gives me a sliver of hope. The photo Lovejoy shows me was clearly taken in the early morning hours, right after dawn. It’s entirely possible that Blumbert isn’t there anymore.

“Hey, are you going to eat that?”

He reaches over and plucks up the remnants of my sandwich, taking a big bite.

“Ugh, that's terrible. We’ll eat so much better once we get down south, babe. You’ll see. I’ve got it all arranged. Money goes a lot further south of the border. We’ll live like royalty. Servants, a personal chef, the whole deal. You just hit the jackpot.”

He throws the sandwich down in disgust.

“Well, let’s go.”

Julian stands up and looks at me expectantly. I remain rooted to the spot, shaking so bad I’m not sure I can stand, let alone walk.

“I said, let’s go. Or do you want your mother to experience seeing all of her internal organs outside her body…while she’s still alive?”

---