Page 69 of Wayward
“Hey Sassy.” Dante kisses her neck. “I’m glad you gave Sam the money.”
“Really?” I tear myself away from the window.
“Yeah, Anan decided he wanted cash, after all. He took everything we had, but we’ve got them—the passports!” Dante holds up four passports from St. Kitts and Nevis. He passes them to Sam, Easton, Haley, and me. Zane and I are from Moldova, apparently. He tosses one to Zane and waves his around.
“I do love St. Kitts and Nevis,” Haley says, flipping through her new documents. “I’m pretty sure I can answer at least basic questions about St. Kitts. I’ve been on charter there so many times.”
Then we wait some more.
At 2:30, there’s a knock on the door. “It’s a limo driver,” Easton says and opens the door.
I’m right behind Easton checking the driveway and front path, but both are clear.
The driver bows. “Freeman, party of six, for the airport?”
“Yes, we’re ready,” I say. I wait for everyone to file out of the villa to the limo. I grab an apple on the way. There’s an intrinsic part of me that can’t believe we’ve made it. We'll have to touch down and make our way to the police station in New York before I really believe it’s true. I scan the resort beyond our door and jump into the limo.
There’s a bottle of champagne and glasses waiting for us. But that’s not something we should drink until we’re out of here. It’s open, though, and Haley picks up the wire cage that was around the cork and rolls it around in her hand.
The road to the airport is crowded. I’m sitting next to one door. Easton’s across from me. Haley’s in the center back, with her seat belt fastened, between Sam and Zane. The limo driver takes a sharp right.
“How far is the airport?” Haley says loudly to the driver.
“Not far. This is the fastest way. I know a shortcut.” His brown eyes flash in the useless rearview mirror.
He takes a left and a quick right and stops short. Zane slides to the ground, Sam’s arm holding him from going farther. Easton and I both hit the front seat with our shoulders.
“What did we hit?” Zane asks, getting up from the floor.
The door behind Easton opens. “Fucking hell, we didn’t hit anything,” Easton says.
Holloway’s large head pushes into the limo over Easton’s shoulder. “Good afternoon. You left without saying goodbye. Now, we can’t have that.” He uses the tip of his semi-automatic gun to wave Easton out of the limo.
The door behind me opens too. A guard I don’t remember from theRosewoodyanks me out by my shoulders and pushes me against the limo. “Any problems with you, big guy, and we know who we’ll be taking it out on,” he hisses in my ear.
“Heard,” I say back. But if he touches Haley roughly—I will kill him. I crane my neck, taking in what the hell happened. We’re on a suburban street—local small houses on either side. Two SUVs block the path in front of us. Like they knew we would be coming. Someone sold us out. And I bet to hell it has something to do with my new citizenship of St. Kitts and Nevis.
Zane comes out the other side, and Sam stands and helps Haley out.
One of the guards binds my wrists with zip-ties. He gives it an extra tug, but I’ve got my wrists at an angle so I should be able to get out of them when I see a chance. Sam, Haley, and I are on this side of the limo. Dante, Easton, and Zane are on the other side with Holloway. He’s giving orders, but it’s hard to make out over the revving of the SUVs in front of us.
“Move it,” one of Holloway’s men says to me and grabs my arm.
A dog barks in the distance, but there are no people around. It's like they’ve cleared the street for their little operation. I’ve got my head turned back to Haley. But damn, I don’t know why I expected to see fear in her eyes. When her blues connect with mine, she’s practically shouting,do we make a run for it?I shake my head. What are we going to do? Our passport maker sold us out.
The guard next to Haley isn’t touching her. He turns his head toward me. And fuck, it’s the asshole Collins. The one who shot at Dante. I want to break away from the scrawny guy holding my arm, but Collins isn’t even touching her. He’s not showing any anger. It’s not what I would have expected out of a twat like him.
The door to the SUV closes and locks from the front. Haley’s between Sam and me. The others are in the vehicle in front of us. Our driver isn’t outside. I turn around, staring back at the front of the limo. He’s slumped over the steering wheel. Dead or knocked out, I can’t tell. To my relief, Haley doesn’t look back at the limo. She’s sitting at an angle, and her fingers brush mine. She drops the metal wrapping from the champagne cork into the palm of my hand and swings to face forward. Her eyes flick to mine. The edge of the wire cage is sharp. I run it up and down the plastic of the tie, making as little movement as possible. Damn, she is smart. I have enough slack that I could get out with force, but that wouldn’t be taking anyone by surprise.
Holloway hops into the front passenger seat. He turns and narrows his eyes at me. “Do you know how fucking hard it is to keep you ungrateful assholes alive? I wasn’t just talking out my butthole when I said if Ed’s men find you, you’re dead. For the love of god, stop being so damn difficult.” He slams the door. “Go,” he says to the driver.
“It might be easier to stop if you did tell us everything. Because from where I’m sitting with my hands zip-tied behind my back, your boss is looking pretty guilty,” Haley says. And I’ve never been prouder. Because if any of the guys had said it, Holloway would have clocked us with the end of his gun.
“That’s not for me to say.” Holloway doesn’t turn around. “You’ll have to ask Z.”
“So, that’s where we’re going? Back to the house.”
“Fuck, no. You want to die? I can’t take you back there.” Holloway doesn’t say anything for the next ten minutes.
