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Chapter Twenty-Two
It took Gray two days to find a pilot willing to take my substantial donation and take us to California without putting any of the passengers on the flight manifest.
At this point, I have spoken to the informant seven times to get updates on Lilly's whereabouts—not that he has been able to give me anything but assumptions. Nate's socialite fiancée was of more use. Her social media post—a pouty-lipped Margot in a pool chaise, tagging Hamlin with the caption: "Fiancé on another business trip until Friday"—made it clear that he hasn't been around.
Brainless bimbo. Not even her non-profit work can make up for the air in her head that’s only good to keep those ridiculous curls in place.
Gray limps after me into the beach rental my little helper procured for us. He grunts under the weight of our luggage, his leg bothering him with every step.
"Oh, shut up. The knife went straight through the muscle. I didn't even nick a blood vessel. You've had worse," I snap after he moans again, making his way with my bags to the bedroom I chose.
I dial Elise to check on my pawn. I had to leave him behind in Virginia since Doc refused to knock him out for the flight. Apparently, it could overwhelm his system with the increased dosage of paralytic drugs and anesthetics he’s received in the last few weeks. Not that I care about his body, but on the minimal chance I require him to convince Lilly to do what I want, I have to keep him alive a little longer. Such a nuisance.
Elise assures me he is compliant and everything is good. I confirm her statement by pulling up the cameras Gray installed for me without her knowledge before we left.
"Elise?"
"Yes, ma’am?"
"Why is he reading a book?" Meaning, why the fuck are his arms not in the restraints?
The sharp inhale on the other end of the line tells me that she did not expect me to know that.
I speak very slowly. "If you value your position,"—sub-context: your life—"I highly suggest that you rectify your lapse in judgment immediately."
"Yes, ma’am."
I hang up before she can say anything else and watch her hurry into the room and rip the book out of his hands. His brows furrow, and her gaze flits around the room as she mumbles under her breath. His mouth sets into a grim line, and he holds out his hand for her to tie it back down. Always the gentleman.
Once I am satisfied that my order was followed, I find Gray in the kitchen, popping more painkillers.
"Do you think that's wise with your history?" I arch an eyebrow.
"I wouldn’t have to if you would keep your temper under control," he mumbles between gulps of water.
Ignoring his insolent remark, I take the car keys off the counter and toss them at him. "Make yourself useful and do recon on the Hamlin estate. I want to know everything."
