Page 89 of High Roller

I raise an eyebrow. Did he leave his wife tied up somewhere in the house?

Tobias pats Owen’s shoulder. “Just make sure you’re back to check in before she’s supposed to be asleep, or I’m letting her stay up.”

Owen twirls a set of keys around his finger and nods in confirmation to Tobias. “Let’s go,” he says as he heads for the door. “It’s a long drive.”

I follow him out of the house. For a moment, a voice tells me to take off running down the street. The main reason I don’t listen is because I’ve already made up my mind about staying with this group until my husband is dealt with. But even if I hadn’t, I don’t know where I would go, and I would almost certainly be found in minutes by Owen and the others, and if not, it would only be a matter of hours before my husband’s men found me.

Finn is bound to have ears to the ground all over the place searching for me even if it doesn’t appear that way to the public.

So I do what I’m told and get in the front seat with Owen.

The car ride is silent for a while, but I struggle with silence, so I ask if we can turn the radio on. Owen nods to the dash and tells me to flip through and find something I like.

The station I land on is taking a news break.

“Speculation on the whereabouts of Liliana Draven is dominating local headlines today, but no missing persons report has been filed. Phineas Draven, the mayor’s son, has offered no comment about his wife or the public appearances she has missed. The mayor’s office is also declining to comment.”

Owen shuts the radio off again. “Jesus. Don’t they have anything better to do than speculate? Who would have even tipped them off if no one is commenting.”

“I have missed a couple of high-profile events. It was bound to cause some questions.”

“I just want to understand why your husband hasn’t asked more of those questions.”

“He did go to the casino and raise a fuss according to Victor.”

“That’s true, but he was placated too quickly, in my opinion. I don’t trust it. If my wife were missing, I would not leave the last place she was seen without answers. It’s like he knows more than he’s letting on.”

Lights shine bright in the rear-view mirror and Owen revs the engine. “Come on arsehole,” he mutters, “Go around me.”

He takes the next exit, and the car with the obnoxious lights follows.

Owen curses.

“What is it?” I ask, turning to see the car behind us.

“We’re being followed. Give me a moment and keep your seatbelt secure.”

My heart races. What is he going to do?

He punches an icon on the dash, and Tobias’s voice fills the car.

“Everything OK?”

“We’re being followed. I need you to have Bellamy look through the footage and see if we can figure out how long.”

Tobias doesn’t say anything, but he must mute the speaker to get Bellamy, because a minute later it’s her voice in the car.

“Sir, it looks like they pulled in behind you after you turned off our street. At first, I almost missed it, but they’re switching cars to throw you off. I would say there are two following for sure, and there is a third that may have been involved but has since fallen off the path.”

“Fuck. Thank you, love. Get license plates to Luke as quickly as possible.”

“Yes, Sir. Drive safe.”

“I don’t know how to drive any other way. Be good for Tobias.”

“Always.”

Even in moments of stress and emergency, they find ways to connect. It makes me feel oddly warm and fuzzy on the inside. It’s odd because we apparently have suspicious people following us. That shouldn’t be a time for warm and fuzzy.

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