“Leland, you could go to jail for this. We have to get out of here. We have to let the police handle it. We’ll find Waylon. We will.”
“Jeremy, how are you even going to explain this?” Cassel asks.
“I’m going to be honest and tell them that Waylon called and we were afraid they took him,” Jeremy says. “We’ll play it off like the gunfight was already over by the time we arrived. For now, stay back.”
I shake my head. “No! I have to?—”
Cassel pins one man down so Jeremy can restrain him before moving to the next. “I have their phones. I can figure it out. I promise you.”
Now that Jeremy is on the man I’d been prepared to shoot up some more, Jackson tugs me away from him while Jeremy reads him his rights and binds his arms. I don’t want to go. I want to stay here; I need to find Waylon.
“Leland, come on,” Jackson says as he starts dragging me away from them. I have no choice but to follow.
Once Jeremy has all of them restrained, he stands watch over them as we move out of sight seconds before the police show.
“That was too fucking close,” Everly says. “I’m not going to prison.”
“We won’t,” Jackson assures him. “Jeremy will spin some tale about him coming in at the tail end of the fight. It’s not going to be fun since we’re going to be pulled into it as soon as he tells them that Waylon contacted us, but we shouldn’t be at fault. They’ll assume the vehicles weren’t together and that whoever took Waylon shot at the carful of people who Jeremy apprehended. It’ll be fine.”
“It’s not fine because they have Waylon,” I say.
“I’ll figure it out,” Cassel promises. “As soon as I’m back at my place, I’ll tear apart all of their information and figure it out.”
Though I nod, I’m not quite sure what to do.
“Heya,” a voice comes from behind us.
I turn and glare at the Scottish parasite. While I’m not always certain what side Tavish is on, he did rely on us recently when he got conned and ended up on an island with a man trying to kill him. Did I go to the island to save his life or did I go to the island because the very idea of hunting a man down on a private island sounded thrilling? Only Jackson knows.
“You’re a bit late to the party,” I point out.
“I saw the police apprehending them. I mean, you said we needed to find the boy and I found the boy, but I can pretend I didn’t,” he says.
I freeze as I stare at him before rushing over. “You found Waylon?”
“Sure did, but with that attitude I’m going to make you climb fifty flights of stairs before I even tell you where he is.”
“I will throw you back on that island. Now where is he? Is he hurt?” I ask, and he must notice my anxiety because he immediately shakes his head.
“He’s a little roughed up but fine. Ellis has him,” he says. “Come on.”
I hurry after him as he leads me past the building where the car had come out. I see Ellis kneeling next to a large dumpster, and when I step around it, I see Waylon squatting there, just out of sight.
“Oh fuck,” I say as I grab him and drag him to his feet so I can hug him. “Don’t scare me like that ever again, you hear me?” He seems startled at first but quickly wraps his arms around me. His fingers dig into my shirt while he squeezes me tightly, like he’s just as happy to see me as I am to see him.
“They took Cam,” he tells me in a shaky voice. “I couldn’t stop them.”
I stiffen as I realize that I’ve had this all wrong. Of course I thought they were after Waylon, but were they actually after Cam all along?
“Do you have his mother’s phone number?” I ask.
“No.”
“I called Nathan for permission for Cam to go skydiving with us, so I should have it somewhere,” I say as Jackson, who must have been right on my heels, takes Waylon from me.
“Are you okay?” Jackson asks as he starts checking him over while trying to hug him with his other arm.
Waylon nods even though I can tell he’s struggling to keep it together. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
