“Book?” All this for a stupid book? Sam’s life for a book? “What book?” Benedict Arnold’s biography?
“That book,” Lazzo snapped, “is not your problem. This decision is your problem. You get me to Denver, and I will keep you alive. That is what you must agree to. You give me away, and I will blow up your family. You try to fool me, and I will kill your family. If I do not have that book in Denver in one month, these men at this house… they will kill your family. Is there anything—anything—not perfectly clear?”
I was stunned. There wasn’t really a decision to be made, and he was certainly very clear. What else could I possibly say but “okay?” I didn’t know what book he was talking about, but I’d seen him shoot Sam right in front of us. This man Danny had saved, who Danny had risked his own life for several times—he’d killed my boyfriend right in front of me for this one book. What can that book possibly mean to him? I knew there was no decision to be made. If I said anything other than “okay” right now, Reagan was dead. Emily and Abbey would be dead too. If Lazzo was indeed capable of blowing up Dad’s house and killing all of them, I had no reason to believe he wouldn’t do that.
“Okay. On one condition.” I could tell he didn’t like me saying that, but he didn’t interrupt. “When we get to this house, you tell your men—”
“They’re not my men.”
“Okay. You tell the men if they hurt any of these three, my brother will kill them all. You tell them you’ll pay a king’s ransom, or whatever the hell you want to say—or have to say—to make sure they’re treated well. Your men—sorry, these men—keep my girls safe, and Danny will let them live. I promise. You know Danny. He trusted you.” I paused. “I trusted you…” My voice was shaking. I took a deep breath. “We trusted you, and you’ve been good to us. If that was really you, if you’re not this monster you’re acting like right now… then you do at least that for me.”
Lazzo nodded. “Okay.”
I knelt beside Reagan and the girls. “Did you hear all that?”
“Yes.” Reagan was trembling. “Thank you, Hayley.”
“You can thank me by staying alive and keeping these two safe. We’ll come for you as soon as we can.”
I stood up and walked toward Lazzo, extending my hand to the person who’d killed my first love. “I’ll do everything I can.” I didn’t want to touch him—certainly not this gently—but I needed him to know I was sincere. “I promise.”
He shook my hand. “I know.”
“I give you my word… I won’t hurt you.” I hadn’t yet let go of his hand. “But if you want to stay alive on that carrier—full of people who want to kill you—you’d better get me something to protect you with and follow my lead.”
“Why would they want to kill me if they don’t know who I am?”
It was a good question but I had a better answer. “Because once Danny figures out what happened—which he will—that’s going to be the instructions he gives.”
“Okay.” Lazzo nodded and pursed his lips. “I understand.”
He seemed to agree that was the way it would go down. I didn’t know for certain. I was merely angling to have equal input in all our future moves and decisions. I finally let go of his hand. “And one last thing…” I leaned in toward Lazzo and whispered, “No matter what happens, Danny will be coming for you.”
He stepped back, his face betraying a slight twinge of fear before he composed himself enough to reply, “I’m counting on it.”
Somehow, through all the trauma and drama of mom dying and America crumbling I’d learned to tuck away my emotions—at least enough to not let them get in the way of what needed to be done. I’d gotten used to tragedy. That was a horrible reality. In this instance the loss of Sam hurt so much one second—the clutches of pain so tight on my heart—and the next second I’d shaken it off, channeling my anger and bitterness into adrenaline and motivation. I wanted to kill Lazzo—to tear his arms off and beat him to death with them, but I had to put the needs of Reagan, Abbey and Emily ahead of my wants. Their lives depended on me helping this murderer—a most unfortunate truth.
I’d never get over how and why Sam died that night. He was killed for being there. Lazzo was too afraid he couldn’t pull off the kidnapping with Sam around, and he knew Sam would bring the Pack after us if he let him go—so he killed him.
It was clear as I drove toward the house that no one had heard the shots. No lights followed us. I doubted anyone was tracking us at the Hexagon and everyone at Redemption Island was paying attention to the carrier in the channel. I was curious how long it would be before someone noticed we hadn’t returned. Tara had given Emily an hour to get back to the Big House, but she and Ryan didn’t live there—and probably weren’t still up. They might not even know.
We pulled up to a tall steel gate that opened automatically for us, and drove down a long gravel driveway—with the lights off for some reason—before cutting across the grass and pulling into a shed. I saw two men in masks come out of a trapdoor in the ground. They opened the back doors and demanded Reagan and the girls get out. Lazzo let me hug each of them, and he kept his word. He spoke rather sternly to each of the men in some African language. I didn’t understand anything they said, but he assured me they’d promised not to hurt the girls. He didn’t know what their word was worth, but Lazzo had warned them they’d never get what they wanted if any of those girls were hurt. It was, as he said, the best he could do.
Another man hopped into the back of the van and rode with us to the marina. For some reason Lazzo didn’t say a word to him, and the man remained silent as well. I only caught a glimpse of him once, and he happened to be looking at me. I could have been wrong, but I swore he was white. What the hell? Lazzo was Libyan and he’d implied these people were like him—at least they were from the same country. I knew—from high school geography—many Libyans were of Arabic descent but their skin was more like Blake’s—more Hawaiian—a far cry from snow-white mine. This guy was snow-white.
When we reached the marina, the other man took off with the van, presumably back to the compound. I’d gotten a better look at him and he was definitely snow-white. If he was American… I wasn’t exactly sure what the ramifications of that could be. It would definitely open up a whole new can of worms.
Lazzo and I climbed into our small boat and headed for the USS George Washington. We made it to the carrier around 1:00 a.m. and climbed the long unguarded ladder up the side. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about pushing Lazzo off the carrier as he stepped up and off the ladder. But on the chance he’d somehow survive, or that all it took was a button push on the way down to kill my family…or even if it was because I’d promised I wouldn’t—whatever the case was—I didn’t do it.
We dodged a few dozing guards and found a vacant bunk room in an unlit part of the carrier that apparently wasn’t being used. Best as I could, I made myself comfortable and caught a few fitful hours of sleep. Before I drifted off, I wondered if anyone even knew we were missing. Probably not.
THIRTEEN – Baker’s Daughter (Hayley)
“What are you doing here?”
The voice startled me awake. I opened my eyes and started to sit up until I noticed the rifle pointed at my head. The person holding it took a step back as I moved. She didn’t look a day over sixteen, and her hands were shaking. “Easy.” I sat all the way up slowly.