Before long, we’ve gotten out of the elevator and are back on the landing. I try to close up the secret doorway, but he just shouts at me to “Fucking leave it.”
So we hurry down the two flights of stairs, the feeling of that gun pointed at our backs sending tingles down my spine. I hate not being able to see him; it makes me feel paranoid and jumpy.
We hurry across the entry hall, and when we get to the front door, I throw the lock and push the door open. The same hallway clock tells me we’ve been upstairs for less than an hour, and it’s only 7:15 in the morning. But as we hurry over the drawbridge and to the old access track, I can see a car driving away from the zoo. I breathe a short sigh of relief. I don't know what Raquel said to get them to leave, but I’m thankful now.
Jaxon and I burst out onto the track, stumbling over the uneven ground since the handcuffs are slowing our pace and throwing off our balance. I can see the car from here. I just hope we make it before anyone else arrives for work.
When we get there, I’m panting, sweat prickling on my brow, and neither Jaxon nor Peter are in much better shape than I am. Raquel is leaning against the car, looking a bit better than the last time we saw her. She must have found something to clean up with in the car.
“Who was it?” Peter asks.
“Some guy named Parker, said he worked for McCallister Construction.”
And I thought my heart couldn't beat any faster, what with the jogging and my own panic, but hearing Parker’s name just kicks it up into a level I never knew it could beat. Fuck, I hope I’m not having a heart attack. I exchange a look with Jaxon, praying that Parker is now on his way back across the road to talk to Dad about the jobs.
“I told him that there was a mix-up with permits, so he wasn't allowed to start today. I’m not sure he bought it, but he said he was going to check with the boss and would be back.”
“Shit, okay.” Peter pops the trunk. “Get in.” He gestures to me and Jaxon, and we move to do as he says. At least we’re kind of safe in the trunk.
“Where’s Mom? Is she coming?” Raquel is looking down the track, and before either of us can answer, he swings his gun in her direction and fires. The look on her face says she never saw it coming. He shoves at us, and within minutes, we’re stuffed in the trunk and heading back down the track, being jolted and bustled by the uneven surface.
“Do you think someone heard that gun shot?” I ask Jaxon once I finally calm my racing heart and heaving breath. I feel him shake his head. My back is to his front, and he’s curled his face into my neck, seeking and giving the comfort that we both so desperately need.
“Probably not, ” he mumbles, sounding as wrecked as I feel. Now that the adrenaline is leaving my body and the cocaine is wearing off, I feel like I’ve been hit by a steam roller. Everything aches, and I’m so fucking tired. “Harlow, I’m sorry I’ve been so fucking useless.” Jaxon sounds so distressed; I nuzzle into him the best I can.
“Oh, honey, don’t be. We need to do what we can to survive, and if that means playing possum and doing everything he instructs, we’ll do that until we find a weak spot. Then we bomb the shit out of his plan and come out on top victorious.”
“But I should be the one protecting you, not the other way around! Now I’m so freaking tired I can barely keep my eyes open. How is that any help?”
“Sleep, babe, we can’t do anything back here, and who knows what Peter is going to do with us next. Let’s get a little rest while we can.” My stomach rumbles, and my mouth is dry. I desperately need a drink, but neither of us are going to get what we need for now, so sleep will only benefit us.
A small snore tells me Jaxon really wasn't kidding. I settle my body back against him, his warm and comforting and solid weight against mine. I allow myself a moment to soak in that feeling, thankful that both of us are still alive, and, despite having to perform sexually for a violent coke addict, no less worse for wear. I need a moment to regroup, then I’ll come back swinging. Just as my eyes start to close, I hear a siren, but it fades into the distance. It must have been for something else. With that little bit of hope fading, I allow my eyes to close, and darkness sucks me in.
The sound of a slamming door jolts me from the deep sleep that I assume was helped along by the come down from the coke. I have no clue how long we’ve been asleep, but I don't feel like it’s been long enough. I’m foggy and unfocused, and it’s only the feel of Jaxon’s body against my back that gives me any reassurance. There’s a click, then the trunk opens ever so slightly before it widens, and I have to squint my eyes against the sudden onslaught of light. Peter’s shadow is looming over us.
“Let’s go.” He hauls me out of the trunk, and as I steady myself, he does the same to Jaxon. When I finally get my bearings, I have a look around, and my heart sinks. Of course we aren't lucky enough to return to the previous house. No, Jacinta must have sounded the alarm by now. He must have had a back-up plan, but where the fuck are we? In front of us is a small cabin nestled amongst some big trees. I’m not familiar with California's vegetation, so I have no clue where we could be, and I don't want to ask Jaxon. I don't want to do anything that will set Peter off.
Jaxon grunts as Peter none-too-carefully pulls him out of the trunk, and when he’s on his feet, the door to the cabin opens. A woman steps out, and although she’s familiar, I can’t pinpoint where I’ve seen her before.
“Fuck me,” Jaxon hisses as Peter moves up the steps of the cabin to gather her in his arms, kissing her full on the mouth.
What the fuck? I thought he was with Julia. Who is this woman?I raise my eyebrow, looking at Jaxon and the major glare he’s sporting.
“That’s Patricia, one of the attorneys that was part of the trust.”
“Did you get it?” she asks breathlessly when they pull apart, and he has a smug grin on his face.
“I sure did.” He runs back to the car and grabs the paperwork, waving it around as he returns to her side. She scowls as she snatches it out of his hand.
“So why are those two here?” She gestures to me and Jaxon, and Peter sighs.
“A contingency plan, of course. What if the rest of the properties have blood-linked security? We need the boy just in case, and as for the girl, well, in that little pile is the last will and testament for Count Bucataru.”
“The actual will? We didn't think there was one,” she gasps.
“I was thinking about the chances of needing a blood heir to inherit. I can’t do that, and that one won’t share his inheritance with us,” Peter parrots to her almost exactly what I said to him, making it sound like it was his idea. “I was thinking… Wouldn't it be better to have a baby that we could mold and shape like we want? Not to mention any child would need responsible guardians to manage the inheritance until they were of age, of course.”
Patricia finally seems to grasp what he’s saying. “Oh yeah, I get what you’re saying, but why her?”
