Page 88 of King of Wrath

I nod. I get it.

I reach for my suitcase, but he gives me a wink. “I got it.”

We leave the house, a large SUV waiting in the drive. Piling in, it only takes five minutes before we’ve reached a small air strip.

The plane that waits on the runway is small, but it looks ridiculously nice. My family has money, but not private-jet money.

I stop, my brows going up, as my sunglasses come down. “We’re flying in that?”

“Private planes and private air strips make it far easier to doctor flight logs,” Jake murmurs, his arm coming around me.

“Do I get to know where we’re going?”

“Marathon, Florida,” he says. “If we’re going to hide, it might as well be on a beach.”

My lips part. “Seriously?”

“Like I said, private airstrip.”

“We’ll probably stay for four or five days and then move locations. But we’ll try to keep our stops scenic.”

I can’t even imagine the money they’re spending to fly private planes about every four or five days.

“Jake says you have a passport?” Roman asks, pulling out his phone like he’s making a note or something.

I nod. Using it would mean alerting customs of our movements.

The car stops and Jake gets out, holding out his hand so that I slide across the seat on his side.

“I’ll work on getting you another…” Roman says as he gets out too but stops halfway when his phone starts buzzing. He glances down. “It’s Mason.”

“Better pick it up,” Jake answers, pulling me tighter into his side.

“Mason?” Roman starts but instantly stops, his face going granite hard.

“What’s wrong?” Luke asks but Roman doesn’t have time to answer. Because another black SUV is racing toward us.

“Shit,” Jake rumbles, tossing his suitcase to the side and tucking me partially behind him.

“What’s happening?” I cry.

Roman holds a hand out in front of me, further blocking me from view. “Toni has escaped.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Jake

I don’t needany more information to know he is barreling toward us at eighty miles an hour.

It’s fucking Toni.

And that fucker is going down. “Get Nia in the car,” I snarl at Roman, who responds instantly by wrapping an arm around her and tucking her into his body.

One of the doors on Toni’s SUV flies open and a goon with a gun hangs out as several shots ring out on the airfield. I recognize Gio Vendetti as we all duck, Roman covering Nia with his larger frame.

I say a quick and silent thank you to my nephew as I pull my Glock from my waistband, popping off a shot.

Not at Gio, but at the gas tank. I’ll deal with that piece of shit later.

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