Page 60 of The Question of Us
Samuel grumbled something about that being a fat lot of use but didn’t push it.
“You’re just pissed that you’re not here to be a part of this,” I finished. “So how about you stop whingeing and help us make the plan as safe and airtight as we can.”
Samuel’s teeth ground for far too long to be a good sign but then he surprised me by sagging with what looked like defeat. “All right. All right. If you won’t reconsider, then you should at least be smart about it. Pay attention.” He eyeballed us one at a time and I fought the urge not to squirm in my seat. “Let’s say somehow you miraculously manage to convince Lee and his brother to leave with you Friday night. How exactly do you see that working? It’s not like Marty is going to just let them simply walk away. He had Justin killed and Davis run off the road. He organised kidnapping, arson, surveillance, and god knows what else. Or have you forgotten what this guy is capable of?”
“Of course we haven’t,” Nick blustered.
I side-eyed Nick because we hadn’t, not really, probably because we didn’twantto think about it. “What Nick means—” I ignored Nick’soh-reallyeye roll and turned back to Samuel. “—is that we’re aware of the potential issues and we’re still working on a solution.”
Gazza gave a soft snort that did nothing to cover Nick’s groan, and then they nodded, innocent as lambs. But Samuel wasn’t fooled for a second. He looked between the three of us and shook his head in utter disgust.
“Dear God, please don’t let Madigan anywhere near that damn house,” Samuel grumbled. “He can’t lie to save himself.”
Nick shot me a smug smile. “Yeah, we’re not unaware.”
“I can lie perfectly well, thank you very much,” I bit back.
“No. You absolutely can’t,” Nick countered, wrapping his hand around my neck, his thumb making small circles at the top of my spine. “We’ve already had this discussion.”
“Yep. What they said,” Gazza affirmed brightly, rocketing to the top of my shit list, along with the other two. It was getting crowded up there. “Although it is kind of cute.”
“Shut up, all of you,” I grumbled, folding my arms across my chest. “None of you would be here if it wasn’t for me.” Which, I realised a little late, wasn’t actually a huge selling point for my strategy. Thankfully, no one called me on my bullshit and I was left to scowl at Samuel in peace. “Can we please move on to the part where you actually help us instead of banging on about everything we’re doing wrong? We need to get this right.”
“Fine.” Samuel nodded. “Since there’s no way I can get over there in time to oversee this potential shitshow, a fact I believe you were counting on—” He glared Nick’s way. “—I’ll be letting Angela know at least the basics of what you’re up to.”
“No,” Nick growled. “I only agreed to this call because I truly thought we could trust you. I?—”
“Calm down.” Samuel raised his hands. “Angela can’t stop you from accepting an invite to the man’s party. She might even appreciate the intel. Especially since you’reonlygoing for a looksee and maybe a chance to talk to Lee, right?” When he eyeballed us, it took all I had not to look away. “Besides, I owe her an unofficial heads-up at the very least. She’s our best bet if something goes wrong and it’ll make me feel a damn sight better about the whole thing. Got it?”
We all nodded.
“Good, now listen up. And Gazza, take notes.”
Gazza grabbed a few sheets of motel notepaper and I found him a pen. By the time Samuel was done talking, the paper was covered in Gazza’s scrawl, and it felt a lot better to have the plan outlined in a cohesive manner, including the addition of Samuel’s concerns and potential workarounds. It also made it harder to ignore those earlier warnings. Because Samuel was right, of course. What we were about to do was super fuckingdangerous. We were poking the bear who, as yet, didn’t even know we were in his territory, let alone about to try and relieve him of his favourite jar of honey.
Making sure Gazza used the second prepaid phone while he was at the party instead of his usual one was Samuel’s first non-negotiable. It would keep Gazza as disconnected from Nick and me as possible if he happened to be recognised. He also walked us through the setting up of our phones so they couldn’t be heard or seen if we were sneaking around or accessed easily if they were lost or taken. Hiding text previews from the locked screen and a whole lot of smaller tweaks, all intended to lessen the chance of us making a mistake or being recognised, none of which we’d likely have thought of. Finally, after another round of ear-bashing and ominous threats to keep in touch or else, Samuel ended the call, and we regarded each other in stunned relief.
“So...” I got to my feet and clapped a hand on each of their shoulders. “That went about as well as expected.” Gazza and Nick laughed as intended, albeit a little underwhelming. “Anyone feel the need to reconsider?”
Nick pulled my hand from his shoulder and wrapped it between his. “Not a chance.”
“Likewise.” Gazza stood and faced us. “Samuel didn’t tell us anything we didn’t already know, and I think we needed the reminder about who these guys are and that this isn’t a game. If you hadn’t got off that boat, Madigan, who knows what they would’ve done? I think we brushed that aside too much in our concern about Lee.”
I nodded in agreement and Nick squeezed my hand.
“He’s right.” Those grey eyes sat soft on mine. “Had things gone differently, you might not be here right now.”
It was a sobering thought. “Believe me, I know, although I think I’ve tried not to think about it. Maybe I’ve tried too hard.I recall the exact moment I knew that if I didn’t get out of there fast, I might not survive.” I looked between the two men. “And that’s why we have to agree to pull the plug if we get even the slightest inkling that something’s up. No hanging around to see how things pan out. No playing heroes.” That one was aimed at Nick. “Neither of you will do that to me, do you understand? You will not leave me drowning in more guilt that could’ve been avoided. No bitching. No arguments. Agreed?”
Nick and Gazza shared a look, then answered in unison, “Agreed.”
Gazza pocketed his phone and opened his hands. “I propose that since tomorrow is going to be kind of a big day, how about we make sandwiches from what we have in the fridge and hit the sack early?”
No one disagreed, and we set about forming a reasonably efficient assembly line, producing whole-wheat chicken salad sandwiches with a side of healthy beetroot crisps from Gazza’s snack supply.
“What the fuck is a beetroot crisp?” Nick scrutinised the bag’s list of ingredients and made an unimpressed huff of disapproval. But to his credit, he said nothing, and as a reward, I added a little extra rotisserie chicken to his sandwich.
We were almost done when my phone buzzed with a call. I was reaching to pick it up when Nick’s went off as well. We shared a look, then held our phones out for the other to see. Shirley for me and Lizzie for Nick.
