Holy shit, he’s right.
For a second there, he seems almost human, and I’m so wrapped up in my own thoughts about what he’s said that I almost miss the taunting undertone. Even after I notice it, I can’t tear myself away from my spiral.
If Julia hadn’t betrayed my mom and dad, Jacinta and I could be living our lives so very differently. There never would have been any need for Brad to adopt us. We wouldn’t know the rest of our siblings, and Harlow wouldn't be in our lives. I’m not sure how I feel about all that. On one hand, I wish we had known our parents, but on the other, I wouldn't want it any other way than it is now.
Peter places the tray on a small table, drawing my eyes and my focus. “This is what’s going to happen. Tomorrow, you’re going to call your pilot and give him a flight plan to Russia. Hopefully, that will bring your family and the police away from your house when they go to the airport to intercept the plane. We’ll grab the book, then make a run for it to Mexico. From there, we’ll get a flight to the Cayman Islands, clear out your bank accounts, then onto Europe.”
Peter paces back and forth across the small space while I calculate the possibility of me tackling him to the ground. He doesn't have his gun with him, but even though he doesn't look like he works out since he has that wiry frame of a junkie, I’m certainly not in the best shape right now. The odds are not as firmly in my favor as I’d like. I don't want to make anything worse for us, but I will hate myself forever if I don’t even try.
I slowly get to my feet once his back is to me, but when Harlow moans in her sleep, Peter whirls back around. He looks between me and Harlow, reaches into the back of his pants, and pulls out his ever-present pistol. Fuck.
“I hope you weren't getting any crazy ideas,” he says. The words are delivered with a clear sense of calm even though I can see the crazy lurking in his eyes.
I shake my head. “No, I was just going to grab the tray for us.” His eyes swing to the tray as his lips turn up in a smug grin. “Good, good. You both need your strength. Anyway, where was I? Oh yes. Once we get to Europe, we’ll hide out in a little non-extradition-treaty country. I’ve got a friend who will help us out. I believe your brother Thomas has had a run in with him. Urie Sokolov is my back-up buyer for the supply contacts. Fucking Sergio got arrested thanks to your bitch of a sister. One of his guys just called me, said he’s being charged with murder. Seems he might have gotten a little too frisky with Cecelia, so at least I have one less loose end to tie up.” Thinking about what could have happened to Cecelia, I feel ill. This man just gets more and more disgusting. The only thing good enough for him is a bullet between the eyes.
“Anyway, now that Sergio has been arrested, I’ll negotiate a deal with Urie and make sure it includes long-term accommodations for us. Once they lose interest in searching for you and Harlow, we’ll clear out the rest of your holdings.”
Peter is unusually chatty as he paces back and forth across the room like he can’t stand still. If I had to guess, I’d say he’s indulged in a little more cocaine since he’s waving his arms around like he’s having a manic episode. I keep my eye on the gun he’s now got in one hand as he moves, hoping that his finger stays off the trigger. My gaze drops to where Harlow is still sleeping. I can't believe she hasn't woken. I’m starting to really worry about her.
“What’s wrong with her?” He gestures to the pile of blankets.
“I don't know. She was tired when we got here, not to mention we haven't eaten in days.”
“Well, wake her and eat this. I can’t have dead weight dragging us down. If she can’t get her shit together, we’ll have to go with Patricia's plan instead. Though she’s a bit old to have any more children. Maybe she just didn't want anymore after she had Luke. Can’t say I blame her for that.”
With that bombshell, he heads back up the stairs, leaving me to soak in what he just said. Patricia is Luke’s mother, and Peter his father, yet neither seems to care that he’s dead or that Peter was the one who killed him. Fuck, who needs enemies when you have a family like this?
“Harlow honey, wake up.” I reach out and give her a little shake. She groans and rolls onto her back, cracking her eyelids and squinting at me.
“I’m so tired,” she grumbles.
“Peter brought us food. You should eat something. You’ll feel better.” I help her sit up before grabbing the tray and bringing it back to our makeshift bed. I pass her one of the steaming bowls of stew, absently noting that it actually smells pretty damn good. I don't know if that’s just because I’m so hungry, but I really don't care. Spooning some up, I blow on it before shoveling some into my mouth. Flavor bursts across my tongue, and I groan out loud with pleasure.
Harlow had been watching me carefully, but now that she’s seen my reaction, she doesn't hesitate to do the same. Her eyebrows jump in surprise as it hits her taste buds.
“Holy shit, it’s really freaking good. I think it’s homemade,” she says around her mouthful of food, but I don't respond. I’m too busy using a piece of bread to scoop up some more.
While we eat, I fill her in on everything Peter had divulged to me. But as I do, it’s like she deflates in front of me.
“We’ll work this out. I’m sure there will be an opportunity for us when we get to Dad’s place. Even if we get Thomas and the rest of them out of the house, there’s the security to contend with too. We won’t be helpless despite what Peter thinks.”
I can see hope in her eyes when I say that, which makes me feel the tiniest bit lighter.
We sit in silence for a little while, finishing our food, but eventually the silence becomes awkward again. How has it come to this? No, I willnotlet this break us. I take her plate, and together with mine I put it back on the tray. Unfortunately, they only gave us spoons, which are all but useless as a weapon.
After I clear away the dishware I pull her into my arms and lay us back down. All I can do right now is fill the emptiness with things that will remind her of our life together and everything that’s to come, so I just start to talk to her—about my new cruise line venture, all the things that will be happening to the zoo over the next couple of months, the renovations in the house, and about Jacinta and her potential relationship with Jace, Alex, and Shane. I do all the talking to start with, but eventually I get her to engage. By the time we get to my sister, she’s lost her melancholy. Then she starts in on Hope and moves around to the subject of Max.
I don't know how much time has passed, but I’m happy to see my upbeat and positive girlfriend returned to me. Depressed and sad Harlow is just too hard to take. I never want to see her look like that again, and I certainly never want to be the one responsible for that either. It must be late afternoon by now. I have no idea how long we traveled while stuffed in the trunk of the car, and I have no idea how long we slept for before Peter brought us food. There’s no sense of time here. I can’t tell if it’s still light outside or not.
I can hear Patricia and Peter murmuring, but I can’t make out any words, and there’s been no more shouting or sex noises since the first lot. I’ve explored the basement, and there’s nothing down here except for the pile of blankets, the table, and the bathroom. There aren't even any chairs to pick up and use as a weapon like Harlow did the first time. I’m just sitting back down in our pile of blankets when the hatch door opens once more.
Patricia appears, holding a gun. “Let’s go,” she orders the two of us. I help Harlow up, keeping me between her and the gun as we make our way upstairs. I know my safety is guaranteed for now. They need my blood, and they are fully aware of that, but Harlow may have become expendable.
When we get upstairs to the little living area of the cabin, Peter’s sitting at a table with papers in front of him. He looks up at us, and his maniacal grin brings goosebumps to my skin.
“It’s go time. Jaxon, call your pilot and tell him to be ready for eight. Tell him to file a flight plan to St Petersburg.”
Shit! I grab the phone that he hands me, dial Neighpalm Air headquarters, and order them to have the plane fueled up. I don't know if I want Peter’s crazy plan to work so that our family is safe and out of the way or for this all to blow up so that Peter and Patricia get caught. I just don't want anyone hurt in the crossfire, but I have no idea how to keep that from happening.
