Page 50 of Don't Trust Him

Against all odds, we triumphed. We switched out of the limo and got into a Hummer for the last stretch—just in case we were being tracked from the sky. But finally, we’re here.

I don’t want to sound too happy, but it’s hard not to be. Somehow, we’ve managed to elude all those who want our head on a spike, and we’re about to embark in the greatest adventure of both our lives.

Sure, there’s a war to come. But we’ve survived the day, and that’s all that matters right now. Everything we’ve built so far is safe—including both the formula and the batch we’ve produced—and the cartels have no idea where we are...or where we’re going.

“What do you think, Eliza?” Grayson asks me, his eyes focused on the road ahead. In the distance, I can already see the airport, planes cutting through the blue sky and fading away from sight. “Paris? Chiang Mai? Rio?”

“I don’t care,” I reply, and it couldn’t be any more true. “As long as we’re together, anywhere in the world is fine.”

“That’s right.”

“Although,” I laugh, laying my hand on his. “Thailand sounds like fun. Or Indonesia. I sure know I need a break from all this killing and backstabbing. And kicking it back in some paradisiac island, drinking Mai Tais until the beach starts spinning all around me...it doesn’t sound that bad, does it?”

“Bali then.” Squeezing my hand, he then steers the car right and starts driving toward the security post that leads into the airport’s private hangars. On the tarmac ahead, I can already see a tow truck drag a black Gulfstream jet onto the airfield.

In just a few minutes, Grayson and I will be inside that plane. And what happens next...well, I don’t know yet. All I know is that our future lies right ahead, and after that jet takes off no one will be able to put their hands on us. Just to be double careful, we didn’t even settle on a flight plan before taking off.

Until now, of course.

With a quick wave, the security guard waves us inside and Grayson drives straight toward the jet, stopping our Hummer right next to it. The moment we hop out of the car, a young pilot in his thirties comes out to greet us.

“Mr. Teague?”

“In the flesh,” Grayson replies, shaking the pilot’s hand as he starts giving us the rundown of the procedures we need to take care of before the flight. A minute later and the pilot heads back inside the private jet, ready to start his preparations on a long distance flight to Bali.

God, I can’t wait till I’m lying down on pure white sand, Grayson’s hands all over me. I swear, I’m going to have so much sex this coming week that I’ll need to put my pussy on ice next to the champagne.

“We’re ready for you, sir,” the pilot calls us from atop the stairs that lead into the jet’s entrance. Smiling at each other, we hold hands and start walking up the stairs.

Ahead of us, a new life.

There’s still a lot to be done, and as soon as our drug hits the market all hell is going to break loose. But that lies ahead. For now, I just want to savor the moment and the small victory we managed to steal out of destiny’s hands.

“I love you, Grayson,” I whisper at him, and he leans in and lays a kiss on my cheek, tucking a loose strand of hair over my ear.

“I lo—”

His words die on his throat as we hear a loud sound coming from the security outpost. We both turn around to see ten black SUVs drive right past the security fences, their tires burning fast as they head toward us.

“START THE PLANE!” Grayson screams toward the pilot, pulling me inside the jet.

“Oh, Mr. Teague, I’m afraid I can’t do that,” the pilot replies morosely.

“What the fuck are you talking about? We gotta leave right fucking now!”

“But what’s the rush?” He chuckles, reaching inside his jacket and pointing at Glock at us. “Uh-uh, I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he snaps at us as Grayson reaches behind his back for the gun he has tucked on his belt.

I grab Grayson’s arm, my fingernails digging deep into his skin as fear takes over me.

We’ve been found.

“Now, step out of the plane before I have to shoot your lady friend,” the pilot continues, taking one step toward us. Grayson retreats slowly, and we exit the plane; atop the stairs, I look down to see a small fleet of black SUVs surrounding the plane, dozens of men leaving their cars. And all of them are packing guns.

“This is the end of the road for the two of you. Now get down there.”

As we go down the stairs, I feel my heart sink into my stomach. I feel nauseous, and my knees are trembling. I don’t even know how I manage to climb down all these fucking stairs. But, somehow, I pull it off.

One of the men walks toward Grayson and takes the gun on his belt off, and while the other two frisk us, checking our bodies for hidden weapons. My God, if I knew this were how things were going to end I would have brought a suicide vest with me—they would’ve bought me down all the same, but that way I’d make sure I’d drag everyone around me straight into hell.

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