Total pages in book: 170
Estimated words: 160791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 804(@200wpm)___ 643(@250wpm)___ 536(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 160791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 804(@200wpm)___ 643(@250wpm)___ 536(@300wpm)
We’ll be fine if he opens the gates before he realizes it’s not Brad in the car. So I flash the headlights and sink into the seat, watching as he reaches inside the gatehouse. “Come on,” I say quietly, as daylight begins to seep through the two wooden panels of the gates.
“They’re opening,” Rose says, pulling the visor down.
My foot is itching to slam down on the gas, but I remain patient, the gatehouse and Bud getting closer, and as soon as I make eye contact with him, I slam on the gas, seeing him darting back to the gatehouse.
“The gates aren’t open enough,” Rose says as the car jars, the wing clipping the left-hand panel. “Shit!”
I yank the steering wheel to the right, and the car judders, skidding onto the road outside. Rose reaches up to the roof as I get the car under control, and we’re soon speeding away from the mansion.
I settle, focused on the road. “What time did they leave?” I ask.
“I don’t know. I woke up and he was gone.”
I gulp and nod, hoping and praying my fears aren’t warranted. Hoping Rose has it all wrong. That Danny isn’t about to sacrifice James for himself. Or James for him.
“Beau,” Rose says quietly, turning in her seat and looking back at the road behind.
I peek up at the rearview mirror, seeing a car gaining on us. “Shit.” A Range Rover pulls up on the driver’s side, flanking us, and I look out to find Otto looking murderous behind the wheel.
“And here,” Rose says, almost sighing, staring out the passenger window where Ringo is on the other side in another Mercedes, looking equally as furious. Another glance at the rearview mirror shows Brad in yet another Mercedes, racing up behind us. And to complete the entourage, a Range Rover pulls into the lane in front of us. Goldie. They all begin to brake tactically, forcing me to slow down too. It’s a move we used so many times in the police force, and now it’s being used against me. I’m cornered.
I look across at Rose, feeling defeated and angry by my concern for her. I can’t smash my way out of this. I can’t risk injuring Rose. I’ve a lost a baby. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, least of all my friend.
I smack the steering wheel with the ball of my hand as we gradually come to a standstill in the middle of the road, my eyes closing, my head dropping back, defeated.
Otto swings the door open and pins me in place with his infuriated stare. “What the fuck are you playing at?”
“Danny and James are at the boatyard,” I say calmly. “Did you know that?”
His immediate wrinkled forehead tells me he didn’t.
“Know what?” Brad asks as he joins us, obviously catching the tail end.
Otto keeps his eyes on me. “Danny and James are at the boatyard,” he says. “Did you know that?”
“I didn’t know that.”
“So he kept the drink flowing until the early hours,” Otto practically growls, “hardly touched a drop himself, because he needed us to oversleep, nursing hangovers, while he has a clear head to do . . . what, Brad? What the fuck is he up to?”
Brad looks like a deer caught in the headlights briefly, but that soon converts into anger. “I’ll kill him,” he seethes, punching the side of his car. “I’ll fucking kill him.” He marches to the back of his car and pops the trunk, appearing again armed with a machine gun. “What else have we got?” he asks, prompting everyone to start efficiently rummaging through the trunks of all vehicles.
“You,” Brad says, pointing an accusing finger at Rose, who’s silent beside me. “You . . . you . . . you . . .” He growls and gives his attention to everyone else, while Rose and I sit, mute, watching them assessing the weaponry situation. I don’t know if I should be relieved that Brad didn’t know. Could he be acting? I assess Goldie and Otto. They’re wondering the exact same thing, both of them quiet and wary as Brad curses and swears his ass off.
What the fucking hell is going on?
29
DANNY
* * *
My stomach turned as James disappeared through the door, throwing back a questioning look as he did. Fuck, if this doesn’t pan out, I’m dead. I flick my cigarette away and immediately light another, not allowing my eyes to leave the container, my ears listening carefully.
The sound of my mobile ringing makes me jump. “For fuck’s sake,” I mumble, looking down at the unknown number. I have a quick look around the boatyard, feeling eyes on me from any place they can hide. It was a given. I knew he wouldn’t expect me to keep my word. I hope seeing me actually riding solo will make this run smoothly so I can get back to the house, pick up my wife, kid, and mother, and get the fuck out of this city.