Page 189 of Come Back To Me

“Legs alright?” Travis asks as we start towards Jack’s truck.

We approach seeing Jack trying to wake him. “Kid’s out cold,” he tells us.

Legs doesn’t move or stir as I push past Jack, shaking him to wake up, checking for myself.

“Don’t believe me?”

“Fuck you.” I need to make sure he’s okay.

Legs is breathing but has clearly been drugged, his pupils pinned to black dots. I feel guilty seeing him so out of it, but we knew this might happen.

“Uh, guys.” The three of us turn to Beats. “You need to come see this.”

We leave Legs laid on the back seat of the truck, then Travis leads the way to the crates.

Beats lifts a woman’s arm, turning it to us in his hold. A small bruise covered with a sterile strip lays between her elbow and armpit. “What is it?” he asks.

I pick up the man’s arm next to her, rolling back his sleeve, seeing the same.

“They all have them,” Travis says, as Len and The Joker appear dragging a few mattresses.

“And the boy?” I look to Beats who confirms, nodding his head slowly.

“Trackers. Has to be.” Jack huffs pulling out his phone. “Insurance for both parties. My guess is the buyer and seller have eyes on their movements. Legs told us they had tags—like serial numbers. This must be it.”

“Will they see when we stop?”

Jack holds his phone against the lady’s arm. “Shit.”

“What?” I take a step closer.

“Thought I might be able to scramble the signal, but it’s no good. We’ll have to take them out…”

Fuck. Thinking on the spot, I grab my knife, moving to the biggest guy here. I lift his arm, then gently slit his skin across the bruise. A small slither of blood trickles from the incision. Squeezing, I feel a small tracker; like the ones Legs had to go on the crates, except this is smaller. “Jesus.” The device pops out. I turn it in the palm of my hand. “We have to move them, get them on the road. We’ll take the devices out whilst they’re still asleep.”

Jack steps forward. “Deano, wait.” One hand rests on my shoulder as he takes the device from my palm, inspecting it closely. He sighs, but I sense his worry. “We have to assume these detect life.”

My face drops. My stomach bottoming out. “Fuck.”

“Meaning?” Travis asks, his voice quiet.

Meaning we’re fucked. “Not only will they know we’ve stopped, when we do, we can’t swap the crates with the hay bales like planned.”

Irritation and fear line Travis’ face as his body shakes. He snarls, turning on the spot. Thinking. I don’t interrupt him. “Get all of them on the lorry, like planned.”

The mattresses are dragged on the lorry, and like machines my men take care, quickly moving the people and carefully placing them in the back.

“What you thinking?” I ask him, moving towards everyone to help.

We both bend picking up a crate, and carry it to the lorry. We slide it onto the back, wiping our hands as we move to the next. “I’m thinking my uncle’s going to fucking hate me.” My face scrunches as we pick up our pace, grabbing the next. “Just call Vincent and tell him we’re on our way. We’ve already been here too long.”

Chapter Forty-Three

MADISON

Ipeer over at Jess sound asleep in her bed. She snores heavily, the low rumble of her nose and steady rise and fall of her chest, makes me smile. Do I sound like that? I let out a small laugh, rubbing my eyes after only managing a few hours sleep.

Today is the baby shower, and I’m awake at the ridiculous hour of 2am. Christ, it’s going to be a long day. Everything’s set. Every surface decorated to within an inch of its life. Bex’s place looks fit for a queen.

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