Page 37 of The Tower

I'm glad she gets to rest on the drive, too. If it's up to me, we'll spend the entire day and night driving even if I have to do it all myself. I contacted the outpost before we left the house, letting them know we needed a passport made for her as soon as possible. Of course, their first response was that my request was ridiculous, but just like almost everything else in life, my money made all the difference. The price I'm willing to pay for Libby's safety is higher than the barriers that would stop the outpost from fulfilling my request within the time limitations.

They're waiting for us, ready to take Libby's picture and everything else they need from her to print the documents right away on location.

I just hope they'll actually deliver.

My body grows more tense with every mile we get closer to the outpost. I have my gun handy, just in case I need to apply a little extra pressure on Stu, the guy who'll be waiting for us.

It's his face that I expect to see after heading up the driveway that's long enough to be considered a small and dirty country road. There's a small house and a building camouflaged as a stable, but it’s used for the counterfeit document business the Covey has been working with for years.

I'm on high alert as the car slowly approaches the building. Libby sleeps peacefully next to me.

A second later, I'm relieved she's not awake to witness the moment my blood freezes.

There's a man standing in front of the house, both hands buried in his jacket's pockets, casting a dark look at me as I stop the car right in front of him.

But the man greeting me with that sinister gaze is not Stu.

It's Tom.

Chapter 20

Libby

The car door slamming shut wakes me.

"Stay inside!" Keane barks at me when he sees me moving. He's already outside, one hand pointing at me while the other reaches for the gun he has holstered at his belt.

Fuck. We're in trouble.

I watch in horror as Keane approaches the man who looks like he's been waiting for us. Something about him seems familiar, but I can't quite place him. There's just a vague familiarity, a quiet sense of déja vu that grows stronger the longer I study the man's face.

But when the realization hits me, I wish I'd just left it be.

I've seen that man before. At the night of the event. He was one of the guys working with Keane.

He was on the rooftop with us. I only had a few glimpses of him as I went in and out of unconsciousness, catching little fractures of impressions when he was yelling at Keane.

He saw me that night. He saw me in Keane's arms as he carried me away from the scene.

He must know who I am.

And Keane is in trouble because of that. Because of me.

"No!" Keane snaps at me when I jump out of the car, raising my right hand in the air to show that I'm unarmed and mean no harm.

"Please," I say, directed at the stranger. "You're looking for me! Please don't do anything to him."

"Libby!" Keane yells, his voice unusually shrill. "Get the fuck back in the car, right now!"

"No!" I yell back at him, stepping closer. "I'm not going to let you get hurt because of me!"

"Oh, ain't that fucking sweet!" the other guy comments, adding a dirty laugh. "What a cute little lover's spat!"

He shakes his head, laughing as he looks back and forth between me and Keane, whose fingers are clenching around the gun in his right hand.

"She your girlfriend or what?" the guy asks, looking at Keane while pointing his finger at me. He takes a step forward in my direction, causing Keane to raise his gun and point it at him.

"Take one step farther, and you're dead!" he warns.

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