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“We will make him think the twins are with my father,” Kai says.
We all turn and face her. “He might have had footage of your father’s death,” I say.
“It’s impossible to know for sure. There was so much smoke and debris. There would be no way for him to know for sure. We will tell him the twins are with my father. That way if we all die, and Felix is still alive; he’ll be searching for a dead man, not Langston,” Kai says.
We have a plan that at least ensures the twins will be safe. Now we just need to find Langston and get him somewhere safe with the twins. Then we can figure out how to kill Felix, without losing any more people we love.
24
Kai
“Are you sure you contacted him?” I ask Enzo for the millionth time in the last three days. Time is running out for us to leave to go to Miami. And Langston still hasn’t responded to Enzo’s email.
“Yes, I’m sure,” Enzo answers.
I pace the small two-bedroom cottage we bought with cash in New Zealand. We’ve been arguing for days about the best place to hide our babies with Langston. Ultimately, no place was safe enough. So we settled on a small town in New Zealand. It has no connections to us or Felix. It feels like a million miles away from Miami, and Enzo is pretty sure Langston is in Australia, so it will be easy for him to travel here.
We decided on a simple cottage to purchase. Although, we only put a modest down payment down, and we know that Langston has enough money to continue to make monthly payments on it. We decided against purchasing a large house outright or even paying off this mortgage. One of Felix’s first moves would be to track down any large home purchases in the last week, assuming we would buy a house for whoever is watching our kids. So we decided against buying any house for them. Anything to make it harder for Felix to find them.
But we’ve been here for two days now, and Langston still hasn’t shown up. I pace the room as I pump breast milk, and the babies sleep in a crib side by side. They each have their own crib, but it seems they sleep better when they are in the same crib. Side by side. Close together.
My nipples are sore and cracked from me pumping basically non-stop these last three days. I’m hoping to have enough breastmilk for my babies while I’m gone a couple of days. But if I don’t make it, Langston will have to change to formula. Just one of the many ways my babies’ lives will be different with me gone.
There is a light rapping at the front door. And we all freeze.
Is it him?
We all walk to the front door. Enzo looks through the small peephole, while Beckett grips his gun at his waist, and I stand behind them both hoping and praying it’s Langston.
Enzo lets out a deep breath and opens the door.
Langston.
“Thank god,” I say, running past Beckett and pushing Enzo out of the way as I take Langston into my arms
.
He puts his arms around me carefully. “You’re alive? How?”
I cry against his chest, the breast pump still doing its thing against my chest.
Langston grabs my shoulders and pulls me from his chest so he can look at me. His tears say more than words ever could.
“How are you alive?” and then he spots the breast pump. “You had the baby?” His eyes light up.
“Babies, actually,” I say with a broad grin.
Enzo grabs Langston and I. “Get inside, you two, and stop making a scene for the neighbors.”
We both step inside, and Enzo shuts the door behind us.
“I saw you die in the explosion. I was on the beach near your car. I watched you and Liesel die. How are you alive?” Langston asks.
“That would be me. I pulled her out of the car before the explosion,” Beckett says.
Langston looks from me to Beckett.
“I’m Enzo’s brother,” Beckett says.
