“You can’t hide from yourself,” I whisper to Angel. “And you’ll never know what you’re capable of unless you spread your wings and soar.”
I feel awful. Because it honestly looks like he might burst into tears.
But the kid is strong—I mean, you’d have to be to go toe-to-toe with The Ivory, wouldn’t you?
He simply sniffs and nods. “Yea. Let’s go.”
He marches toward the door without a second thought.
I chuckle. “Do you even want to know where we’re going?”
“Don’t care,” he mutters. “As long as it’s away from here.”
Well, alright then.
The two of us sneak out of the cage, and Angel leads me through a back exit I had no idea existed, bringing us through a winding maze of secret halls and hidden doorways until we’re outside.
“Wow.” I suck in deep. “I haven’t gotten fresh air in a while.”
“Same,” he mumbles. “So, what now? Where are we headed?”
Th bloke is on a mission, which is nice. His willingness makes it feel less like I’m capturing him and delivering him to be used as leverage.
I look left, then right. “Whatever we do, we’ll want to avoid where all that gunfire was coming from…”
“It sounds like it’s stopped for now,” he says. “I think it was coming from that way.” He nods east, which is actually the west coast of the island.
We could go to the prison. But we won’t make it on foot with the Warden’s men everywhere.
A motorcycle engine is roaring somewhere in the distance.
Racking my brain, I remember hearing something about the old armory. That was where I’d found Joy’s phone, sochances are, they could be reconvening there. It has more cover, surrounded by trees and the fallen guard tower.
“I have an idea.” I look around. “But we’ll need a vehicle…”
“The SUV’s are at the front of the mansion,” Angel says. “They usually leave the keys in them.”
I give him a look, impressed. “Good thing one of us knows sod all about this island.”
“Yea, well… I’ve been here a while,” he breathes, peering around the corner.
I’m watching the lad in curious fascination when he deems the coast clear. He nods, and we scurry around to the front of the mansion, establishing that there seems to be a break in the continuous horde of cartel men rushing to and fro. Knowing it’ll likely be brief, we waste no time racing for the line of parked vehicles, diving quickly into an SUV. Just in the nick of time, too, as voices and stomping footsteps approach.
“Shit. Duck down!” Angel gasps, both of us crouching as low as we can on the seats.
My heart is flying.What a rush!
I feel like I’m in an action movie!
Once I’m sure they’re far enough away, I peek over the dash, watching a few men trudge inside the mansion.
“Stormtroopers,” I breathe. “They’re gone.”
Angel snickers.
We both sit up, myself in the driver’s seat, and Angel to my right. There’s a key in the cupholder, which is very fortunate. But then I frown when I remember one very crucial aspect of this plan I seem to have overlooked.
“Do you drive?” I ask Angel.
