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“Electrical?”
“They haven’t noticed it yet.” As soon as I say this, the man moves to open the exit latch they used to get in and quickly snatches his hand back. All movement stops then for a moment, shock on their faces before they begin to communicate lowly. They’re murmuring to themselves while she waves her hand in a frantic motion.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
“Seatbelt, and keep your eyes down.” Casper pulls back and out, following the instructions on the pre-set GPS they provided. We’re heading toward the A13 and we’ll deviate paths at the second roundabout, where the Collado brothers will go to a warehouse twenty minutes out and dump these trucks there before blowing each up.
No evidence left behind.
The direction has us driving the main road that connects east and central London, but we’ll disappear at Limehouse Link Tunnel. That’s where our connection will cease and so will all the cameras in this area, not one being able to tail our direction.
And that’s what we do until reaching an open field out in the middle of nowhere.
That’s as long as I can take it, and the second Casper puts the truck in park, I’m rushing toward the back. There are no houses here. No witnesses. My hands shake as I input the code on my lock, and when it beeps, I all but yank the entire thing off its hinges in my rush to see her.
It’s been fucking months.
Brutal and agonizing days where I thought she might be dead.
The doors bang open, and inside two people stand with fear in their eyes. But it’s hers I’m focused on, the pure relief that pours out of her slim body and she sways—grips onto the wooden box to right herself at the sight of me.
“Aliana, come here.” My tone is gravelly. I’m at my limit of patience. “Baby, please.”
“Callum?” The worry at once evaporates, and she breathes out a heavy exhale. The man beside her calms too, as if he knows who we are but is playing a dangerous game of pretend. His clock is ticking. “What are you doing here?”
“Come.” Not that I wait. Before the last syllable passes through my lips, I’m in the truck and have her in my arms. Home. She is home. Our lips meet, her desperation near the same as mine while my hands wander and explore, from the back of her head down to her shoulders and then sides, where I pause. I touch her stomach and a heavy breath leaves me, my eyes cloud with tears. “Venus?”
“I’m three months, I think. We’ve been hiding it best we could, but my mother…she—”
“It’s okay. I’m here now.”
“She’s my little cousin.” At the sound of the other man’s voice, I whip my head to the side and glare. He shrinks back, pretending to be defenseless. “I couldn’t leave her alone in this.”
“The fuck did you just say? Her cousin?”
“Yes.” He runs a nervous hand across the back of his neck. “I’m on her mother’s side.”
“Is it true, Aliana?”
“No.” Venus’s voice is shaky. “He’s my handler.”
“And who the fuck orchestrated this?”
Casper raises his gun and points it at the git. He pales, shaking his head, hands up in the air.
“Callum, please. I just need to—”
“Who, Venus. Tell me, baby.”
“I can’t.” My face turns to her, and the tears I see there kill me. “It makes it real.”
“Your mum?” Keeping my movement slow, I pull her against me once again. I sway us a little while she lets out a sob, her tiny pregnant body shaking. “Is what Jorge said true? She killed him in front of you?”
“Yes.” Aliana swallows hard, and I’m proud of her for trying to calm herself. The stress she’s been under is something I will never forgive myself for. “After they took us, I woke up tied to a chair across from him. He was beaten, a little bloody, and by those he considered friends and family. Those he protected above me.”
“Can you give me names?”
“I can tell you where they’re all at.”
