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But then Caden comes over and tapes up my mouth so I can’t make any sound. He punches me again, and the world gets dim and fuzzy once more.
There’s a lot of motion but not much talk. They’ve obviously worked out the details of this plan in advance.
Our only advantage here is the fact that there aren’t any hiding places close to the gate. It’s a stretch of clear dirt road and grass. The woods have grown up closer than they used to be, and the group walks their motorcycles through the trees, as near to the gate as they can get and remain hidden. But the Pack is going to have a fairly significant distance to travel from their hiding place before they can reach the gate even if the deception fools the guards.
I keep trying to work out details. Trying to come up with a plan. But mostly I’m just chanting over and over again like a prayer. “Jackson, please. Jackson, please. Jackson, please.”
He seemed worried about me earlier. Maybe he’ll be waiting for me. He’ll see that something isn’t right. He won’t let them open the gate.
Before I know it, it’s happening. Caden pulls the elastic out of my ponytail and cuts the binding on my wrists. I don’t know why until he punches me in the gut, causing me to slump forward. He puts an arm around me to support me. My hair falls over my face.
I understand why when he starts to walk, moving me with him.
He’s got Brett’s clothes and hat on. And I look like I’m injured. My hair is covering the tape on my mouth. From a distance—and maybe even close up—it’s going to look like Brett is carrying me back after being wounded.
Of course they’ll open the gates. They’ll do it quickly to get me inside and tend to my injuries.
It’s a ridiculous plan made by heartless men. But it might actually work.
The urgency propels me into action. Despite the cloud of pain in my head, I try to struggle. But Caden has my arms in a tight grip, and he’s so much bigger than me. I just can’t pull free.
I try to scream through the tape on my mouth but can’t make a sound past a choked whimper.
We’re getting closer. I hear shouts from the wall. They’re worried about me. One of the voices is Ham. He must have taken Brett’s place. Then I hear the squeaky sound of the crank on the gate.
Fuck it all to hell. It’s working. They’re going to open the gate. And the Wolf Pack might get inside.
I’m not sure why anyone doesn’t recognize that it’s Caden and not Brett under the hat. They’re about the same size and have a similar coloring, but they’re clearly two different people. Maybe he’s managing to hide his face. I can’t really tell through the streaming of my eyes.
I buck up against him like a trapped animal as we approach the half-open gate.
Then I hear Jackson’s voice. “Wait. Wait! Something’s wrong. Stop!”
To my immense relief, the creaking of the gate stops immediately.
Then, “That’s not Brett. Sound the alarm! Be ready.”
I’m almost sobbing now. There’s not much chance I’ll get out of this alive. Caden is going to kill me out of spite even if he has to do it on his dying breath. But still... Jackson has had us drill for this kind of thing for years. We know how to defend ourselves.
So at least the rest of them are going to be all right.
I hear the perimeter alarm blaring, summoning everyone to their defense positions.
It’s going to be all right.
Then I hear guns firing from the wall. The Pack must have made a run on the gate from the woods, but their only chance was taking us by surprise. Ham and Gail have the high ground, so they should be able to take down most of them before they even get close.
Caden must recognize it’s over at the same time I do. He pulls out a pistol and holds it to my head with his free hand. The other arm is still holding me in a viselike grip.
“Let her go, Caden.” Jackson’s voice. Hard and cold and furious. “You’ve lost here. You’re never getting in.”
I blink through my tears until I can see Jackson standing several feet away just inside the half-open gate. He’s aiming his rifle at us. I can’t see what’s happening behind me, but I’m pretty sure Ham and Gail have taken care of the rest of the threat. I still hear the rumble of engines, but they’re not getting closer. The drivers must have been shot.
“It was worth a try,” Caden says. He still sounds obnoxious, cocky, but I can also hear a tinge of fear underlying it. “You don’t deserve what you have here.”
“We worked for it. All of it. And we offered to share it with you if you’d been willing to work too.” Jackson wouldn’t bother trying to make conversation with Caden unless he had a reason. He’s probably stalling. Biding his time. Figuring out how best to handle this.
I’m not sure how he’s going to be able to get me out of this. Caden has a gun to my head, so I’m as good as dead.
