Chapter Twenty
Cam satin the leather chair of Emmett Shaw’s plane, staring down the barrel of Jack Peabody’s gun just as he had been for the last hour or longer. In that time, he’d invented a dozen potential ways of getting out of this situation, and dismissed them one after the other due to his lack of weapon, muscles, and ability tofly.
The layout of this plane was the same as his family’s. The furnishings were more upscale, but far less comfortable. Cam surveyed the clouds passing by the window, surprised at how un-freaked he was about being in a plane. Then again, being held captive by a guy who’d likely shoot you as soon as the plane landed really put the risks of air travel intoperspective.
Jack sat in a chair opposite him, swiveled sideways, so he could keep one eye on Damon in the cockpit, while keeping track of Cam in the living area. Cam hadn’t heard from Damon since they’d first taken off. Jack had shoved him into a seat near Damon in the cockpit and then forced Damon to input coordinates and take off in some crazy-ass way that had made Damon flush red and mutter things about recklessness and suicide. Then Jack had yanked Cam up again, as soon as they’d reached cruising altitude, and brought him back here, no doubt the better to keep him away from Damon, who vibrated with crazy anger at approximately the same intensity asJack.
Cam needed to talk to Damon if they were ever going to find a way out of this alive, and Cam needed at leastDamonto survive, for Cort’s sake. Bas and Drew would have each other, plus Bas had his work, and Drew had his mom. But Cort… Cam couldn’t imagine what he must be feeling now, having his brother ripped away from him again, after all that Cort had gone through, all he’d sacrificed. Cam rubbed his thumb over the pocket of his shorts, feeling the outline of Cort’s lucky quarter against his finger. A lump lodged in histhroat.
He needed to get Damon back toCort.
He watched the madman sitting across from him, gun in one hand and cell phone in the other. Jack was hunched forward in his seat, elbows on his knees, breathing erratically. He kept running the cell phone across his forehead in a nervous way, like he was waiting for it to ring with a call from wherever the hell they were headed. Would Jack deliver him and Damon to his real bosses, the people who’d paid Jack to kill Cam’sparents?
“Jack,” Cam began, and Jack’s head flew up, eyes wild. Cam shrank back, making himself as non-threatening as possible. “I just… I was wondering. Who paidyou?”
“What?”
“A year ago, the crash,” Cam whispered. “We already figured out someone must have paid you to kill myparents.”
Jack’s head went back, a smile forming on his lips. “Why the hell would I tellyou?”
“Why wouldn’t you?” Cam swallowed. “I mean, you’re going to kill me anyway when we land, aren’tyou?”
“Maybe,” Jack shrugged, his eyes cagey. “I haven’t decided yet. Might be better to keep a hostage for a little while, and you’re a better bet thanFitzpatrick.”
“Right, okay. Well, I’m assuming you will at some point,” Cam said sadly, letting real fear thread through his voice, real tears spring to his eyes. “I think I’d kind of like to know the truth before it happens. Wouldn’t you? Call it my lastrequest.”
Jack laughed, a single quick bark, then a longer stream of chuckles. “Aw. You’re scared aren’t you,Cam?”
Cam nodded seriously. “Of course. You’re the guy with the fuckinggun.”
“Hmmm. Yes, I am,” Jack agreed. His smile turned smug. “Crazy thing about your parents. Had to set it up to look like an accident. I had to be above reproach.” He rolled his eyes. “Harder than you’dthink.”
Cam nodded and glanced away, and as he did, he saw something move from the corner of his eye, a sliver of reflected light from further down the hall, from the bathroom and bedroom area. He kept his gaze trained there, hoping Jack would think he was trying to compose himself, and he saw it again - a definite flash of light, reflected off the surface of a picture in thegangway.
Was there someone else on this plane?Cam’s pulse kicked up and he sat straighter. Had Cort or one of the others somehow managed to sneak aboard? How could he twist this to hisadvantage?
“Who engineered it?” Cam demanded, wanting Jack’s attention focused onhim.
Jack snickered and leaned back in his chair. “You wouldn’t believe me if I toldyou.”
“Can’t be any crazier than some of the thoughts I’ve entertained this week,” Cam argued. “Cort thought for a second Bas wasinvolved.”
“Bas? You mean your brother Sebastian?” Jack laughed out loud. “Oh, God! I wish I’d thought of that. Did you believeit?”
“Not really,” Cam said, watching the light creep closer along the gangway. “But I wondered who else it could have been. Maybe one of hiscompetitors?”
Jack shook his head, enjoying the game. “Nope. Much, muchcloser.”
Cam ground his teeth together at Jack’s taunting tone and looked to the side again. The light had gone, but now Cam could see a shadow. Someone was standing right in the bedroom doorway, listening to them. “What would you say if I told you it was one of your father’s most trustedfriends?”
“One of Dad’s friends?” Cam repeated. His attention was caught now, between the shadow in the bedroom and the story that Jack was telling. “Who?”
“Guess.”
Cam rubbed at the back of his neck impatiently. “I-I don’t know. I can’t imagine why anyone would want to hurt my dad. Was it someone from the board? Mitch, maybe? Or maybe the guy below him in the department,David?”
“Closer than that.” Jack’s voice was sober now, all his humor gone. “One of his best friends ever. Someone he trustedimplicitly.”
