Page 76 of Velvet and Valor
“No, she’s still here. I’ve kept her busy. I don’t think she’s got a car or nothing?—”
I duck back behind the corner before he can see me. Shit, he’s selling me out. And to think that I didn’t cuss him out! I should have let him have it with both barrels.
Instead, I need an idea. The guard has a gun on his belt. I can’t get into his booth, so I can’t reach the phone. I try sticking my arm through the tiny hole at the bottom of his interaction window but I can’t reach very far. All I can get my hands on is the valet parking cabinet…
I grab a set of keys and rush toward the parking lot. I push the fob again and again, hoping to hear the telltale sound of a horn.
Then, at last, an answering beep. I follow the sound to a slab of metal masquerading as an SUV. Perfect.
I get inside and pull the seat way up before turning the engine over. The guard runs out into the parking lot, waving his arms wildly in an attempt to stop me from leaving. The only problem is, I’m not trying to leave.
I can only imagine that the guard sees his image growing larger and larger, reflected in the truck’s grill as I bear down onhim. At the last moment he realizes I’m not stopping, and he tries to run. I slam on the brakes, because I don’t want to kill the poor man, but I do it a little bit late.
I feel the impact reverberate through the steering wheel as I smack right into him. The guard jerks forward and tumbles across the parking lot.
I quickly get out and rush over to where he lays on the ground, groaning.
“Where?” I ask, because he knows good and well what I mean.
He gestures at his cell phone. The screen is cracked, but it still functions. I hand it to him, but one of his arms is broken. I have to hold the cell for him while he scrolls through his contacts.
“Here,” he says, tapping the screen. “That’s the address…please call me an ambulance.”
“In a minute,” I say. “I’m going to make a phone call first.”
I have trouble getting a connection to the Platinum Security office, but eventually I get through to the voicemail. I leave a frantic message about my separation from Axel and then send a text directly to Jax saying pretty much the same thing.
When I call Axel, it goes right to voicemail with no ringing whatsoever.
“Axel, call me god dammit!” I snap. I text pretty much the same thing and sigh. It’s all I can do for now. The man on the ground whimpers, and I feel a stab of pity.
I use his phone to dial 911 and then toss it onto the ground beside him. I could take the phone, but I’m worried it could be used by the wrong people to track me.
“Good luck explaining all of this to the cops,” I say before leaving. I stop and give him one last once over. He doesn’t appear to be bleeding, or to have any life-threatening injuries. His broken arm seems to be the worst of it.
And I remind myself that he was gleefully going to hand me over to terrible people who would probably kill me.
I follow the vehicle GPS coordinates and realize I’m going somewhere familiar. A couple of years ago, one of our films secured the rights to film in an old, abandoned shipyard for a few pivotal scenes. I remember it being out in the middle of nowhere, and that we had to bring generators in because there was no power.
I also remember there were two roads leading to the site. One was an offshoot of the main highway, guaranteed to be watched.
The other was a little used service road that ran along the rocky beach for a half mile or so. I turned off the main drag and made for the service road. A thin chain and Keep Out sign are all that prevents my ingress. I figure, I’ve already run somebody over today, what’s a chain?
The chain snaps easily, and I don’t even slow down. At first. But the paved road quickly gives way to gravel, which then gives way to sand. The SUV struggles to make it up a rise in the terrain as I try to keep myself oriented to the shipyard.
I come up over the rise, and my heart leaps with joy. I can see the service road plain as day. But then I realize that there’s a problem. The tide is coming in, threatening to wash over my chosen path. Already flecks of foam and sea spray dot the road at intervals.
I could try to turn back, but Axel could be in trouble, and I still think this is my best bet to approach unseen. I throw the car in drive and peel out down the other side of the hill, kicking up gouts of sand behind me.
The ocean seems perilously close as I turn onto the service road. The shipyard disappears behind a curving cliff for a short time, but I’m not looking that way much. My eyes are focused either on the sandy road ahead of me, or the ever-encroaching Pacific Ocean.
I come around the cliff at last, and the shipyard comes back into view, much closer now. But the tide has washed over this section of road already. The SUV slows down as I hit the wet sand. I don’t know what else to do but hit the accelerator and hope I make it through.
“Come on,” I say as the truck fishtails and slows to a crawl. “Come on!”
I finally catch some traction and the truck surges forward. The road rises a bit, taking me out of the water at last. My elation is short-lived, however, because I can see another dip ahead. The road has completely vanished under the waves.
I don’t have much choice but to try and make it through. I pick up as much speed as I can going down hill and hit the water with a big splash. The wipers go on automatically as a deluge hits the windshield.
