I choose chapter twenty-three; there’s really no other choice. “I’m in. Tell me what to do.”
SIX. IT’S BEEN SIX LONG, miserable days since I spoke with Raze on what has to be one of the craziest nights of my life. After he gave me the details of when and where to meet him, I flat-out asked him about Easton’s involvement, and he verified my brother has no idea what’s going on. Then when I told him about Emerson’s confession, he asked that I hold the phone up to her ear. I’m not sure what he told her, but based on the terror streaked across her face, you’d have thought she heard the voice of the devil himself. Even with the blindfold still on, I could tell she was scared shitless.
When I got back on the line, he instructed me to let her get dressed and leave so that Lance wouldn’t be on alert outside, and then gave me his word that she’d be properly dealt with. I have no idea what that means, but I don’t fucking care what happens to her. She’s been off the map since she walked out of my house that night, and I can only hope I never have to see her again in my life.
Now the day is here. Friday. Exactly two weeks since this entire nightmare began. Two weeks since I spoke to her, and eighteen days since I’ve held her, touched her, or kissed her. And if all goes as planned, at the very least I’ll be able to see my sweet Blake again tonight.
“Are you ready to head out?” Easton asks as he sticks his head into my bedroom. “You guys need to leave soon if you’re gonna make the flight.”
Nodding, I shuffle through the documents in my hand for at least the hundredth time, making sure I haven’t forgotten anything. “Yep. I’ve got your ID, a credit card in your name, the plane ticket, and my boarding pass.”
He offers a supportive smile. “See? Looking so much like me is finally coming in handy.”
“Yeah, if we can pull this off, it will more than make up for all those times I nearly got my ass kicked because you messed around with someone else’s girlfriend.” I chuckle nervously as I take a last glance in the mirror. Dressed in black jeans with a matching t-shirt and baseball cap, I’m thankful the swelling in my face has receded and the abrasions are beginning to fade. I definitely don’t look my best, but at least I won’t scare her when she sees me.
“All right, let’s do this,” I announce as I join him on the top landing of the staircase. “Enjoy being me. I’ll let you know when I book my flight home.”
Surprising me, Easton pulls me into a warm, brotherly embrace and pounds my back with his closed fist. “Be careful, bro. I know you’re a badass and all, but think before you speak or act. This guy is a scary fucking dude.”
I hug him back, hoping this won’t be the last time, but understanding that’s a realistic possibility. Neither of us knows for sure what’s waiting for me when I get off that plane in Reno, but it’s a chance I’m willing to take.
Careful to not be seen through the windows opening to the front of the house, where Lance could possibly catch a glimpse of him, Easton disappears back into my room. He’ll be staying there until I return home, as he’s pretending to be me, home for the weekend. Sneaking him inside this morning from Jae’s trunk wasn’t too difficult, while I kept the federal agent’s attention by walking outside to let him know who Jae was and that she was visiting for breakfast. At that exact time, she pulled around to the back of the house, up near the garage.
Getting me out of here inside her vehicle won’t be nearly as easy. Easton can’t go out to distract him, since Lance obviously has no idea he’s even here, so Jae struts out to the government-issued SUV, sidetracking him by asking random questions, while I make a mad dash to the unlocked back door. I dive in, quickly closing the door behind me, and pray it works.
It’s nearly five excruciatingly long minutes before the driver’s door swings open and Blake’s friend slides onto the driver’s seat. Cool as a cucumber. Like she’s got no idea at all I’m stowed away on the back floorboard of her Infiniti.
Neither of us says a word for at least a couple of miles until Jae feels positive no one’s following her, and then she finally exhales a giant sigh of relief. “Okay, I think we’re good,” she mutters, taking a big swallow from the bottle of water in the drink holder. “I’ll let you know when I’m exiting the freeway for the airport, and you can crawl up here so you look like a normal person getting out of the passenger seat at the drop-off.”
“Sounds good,” I reply, dropping my head back against the door as I close my eyes and focus on the low hum of the tires against the pavement.
Since the night everything went down, I’ve been a fucking basket case. Work is out of the question. The one day I attempted to go in, I made the mistake of opening my desk drawer, and the second I saw the picture of Blake tucked away in the back, I lost my shit. Like a pissed-off bull in a china shop full of red dishes, nothing was spared from my wrath.
After that episode, Easton and I agreed it’d be best if I stayed home until after whatever happens this weekend. But home hasn’t been much better. With my ribs still pretty sore, I can’t use working out as an outlet to release my tension. I’ve even tried jacking myself off in the shower every morning, but that just increases my frustration, not finding a release with Blake slipping further and further away from me.
At night, I’ve been lying awake in the guest bedroom, staring at the ceiling as every possible scenario of what could happen on this trip runs through my head. I could get caught by the TSA, FBI, or the US Marshal Service for using a fake ID on a flight, which, in and of itself, is a felony with guaranteed jail time. This could all be a set-up to take me hostage, to torture me for information, or worse, to be killed. I could discover they’ve been brutally mistreating Blake. And that’s the one that gets me every time. Makes me physically sick to think about.
The thought of my suffering for a chance to get to see her is nothing compared to the possibility of me having to witness her being abused. Beaten. Molested. Dehumanized. I will probably end up dead if that happens, so I’m really fucking praying that’s not the case. This Raze guy seems to have a soft spot for her, and if what he said is true about doing this as a favor for Blake, and my gut says it is, then I doubt he’s letting someone mistreat her. But then again, he’s a Russian mobster and trained killer, so he could be blowing smoke up my ass, as I’m sure lying is second nature to him. Trying to stay optimistic in this entire fucked up situation is proving to be a major task.
About an hour or so after we leave my house, Jae taps the back of her headrest to get my attention. “We’ll be there in about five minutes or so,” she announces. “Go ahead and climb up here.”
Grateful to finally unfold from the cramped position, I crawl over the center console and slide down onto the seat, fastening my seat belt, even though we’re almost there. I don’t want to give the police any reason to pull us over.
She drives up to the drop-off zone and shifts the transmission into park. Even though Jae and I don’t know each other all that well, I know she’s one of Blake’s only friends and that she cares about her quite a bit, and she just put her neck out on the line to help make this trip happen. I smile at her appreciatively. “I can’t thank you enough, Jae. As soon as I know what flight I’m coming back on, I’ll text you.”
“I’ll be here to pick you up, Easton,” she teasingly reminds me of my alias for the next however long this takes. “Good luck, and bring our girl home.”
I hop out of the car and onto the curb, giving her one last wave before she pulls away into the busy merging traffic of LAX. Turning around on my heel, I pull the baseball cap down low on my head and stride inside. Here goes nothing.