There have been many back-and-forth conversations since my first visit after. Most of them have been awkward. The third visit, we just glared at each other until the officer called time.
But other conversations yielded more fruitful communication. I have expressed my wishes, cajoled when I needed to, then resorted to threats.
A favour, spoken in the right corrections administrator’s ear, could easily have him transported to another prison. One where he doesn’t have as strong a hold. A prison network that might see him coming and make preparations to ensure he never secures his goal.
Not that I would. It’s a terrible thing to threaten your own child.
It’s also an awful thing to blackmail your mother into carrying drugs while believing that your life’s in danger all the while, so my conscience is, if not completely clear, at least see-through.
My son could be playing out a bluff. Seeing if I mean what I say.
I hope that isn’t the reason I can’t yet see Kai when he should’ve been in view twenty minutes ago. I don’t think Josh is ready to see how far I’m prepared to go. Nor me.
“Right,” I say when the window creeps nearer ten minutes. “Get out. I’m taking the wheel.”
“We agreed—”
I twist and stick my cold feet into his ribcage, pushing at him. “The agreement only covers what’s happening if things go right. Those rules no longer apply.”
Mack climbs down from the seat, skirting around the front of the van to take my old position, probably walking in front so I don’t leave without him; something I’m sorely tempted to try.
“There’s no use in—”
I plant my foot on the accelerator and head for the warehouse where they should have made their pit stop before reaching us.
“You could just phone on the walkie talkie,” Mack grumbles, adding a grunt when I take the turn too sharply, wheels losing traction before reacquainting themselves with the road.
My pulse rate steadily climbs. I haven’t consulted my maternity manual in a while but I’m fairly sure an elevated heartbeat is bad for the baby. Along with soft cheeses, wine, crackers loaded with saturated fat for that extra greasy mouth feel.
Almost everything I like and use to relax.
I park up in a spot high enough to be a vantage point for three of the building’s four angles. After killing the engine and lights, I close my eyes for a few seconds, letting them adjust to the gloom.
There’s activity to the right-hand side. I squint to bring the visual into focus. Three shadowy figures carrying a long coffin shaped crate between them.
My stomach curls into a hard ball and I press a hand against it, then lower, feeling how lush my belly is getting. Even at this early stage, I’ve moved up a clothing size.
Mack can go fuck himself if he thinks we’re bailing on the father of my child.
“Do you see those men?” he asks now while I roll my eyes. “They shouldn’t be here. This yard should be deserted.”
“He’s pinned inside,” I say, leaping ahead to the logical conclusion before I get a running commentary on the state of the building, the entry and exit points, and anything else I can see for myself with a single glance. “You stay here.”
I open the door and slide to the ground, then reach back in to take the keys. I don’t trust this man an inch. When he opens his mouth to protest, I point a finger at him in my sternest schoolmarm impression and he shuts it.
As the only member of the extensive crew with half his fee still outstanding, at least he has the good grace to understand when to push and when to let go.
“Five minutes to go.”
“Tell them fifteen or you can kiss half your remainder goodbye,” I growl, throwing in a grunt as my ankle twists on the uneven ground. He seems to respond more to that, and I give another one in trial. He nods his head in assent but it’s like meowing to cats. Useless unless you know what the heck you’re saying.
I scamper down the hillside, sheltering behind an array of empty crates and ripped tarpaulins until I reach the flat, then sprinting for the shelter of the building. While I duck behind a large ventilation fan, my eyes scan the vicinity.
Two vehicles, neither of them ours, block the exit gate at the rear of the facility. If Kai hit his previous milestones and boarded his transport, he must be trapped here. Pinned in until the unexpected visitors get whatever it is they’re collecting and fuck off.
My battle with fate continues. I’ve had eyes on this place for the past three weeks and this is the first time anyone’s visited after hours.
The men blocking the gate won’t be here legally, they’re probably swiping goods that came in today, that will be gone tomorrow. Thieves just coincidentally planning their heist for the same night I absolutely need that driveway clear.
