Page 110 of Master of Secrets


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“You’re just throwing yourself into her mouth,” Freya said. “Just like that.”

“I’ll go out the main gate,” I said. “You three go out through the tunnel.” I turned to Mick. “If she contacts you, tell her that Freya and Jed have taken off, and are following me against my orders.”

Mick looked shocked. “But…but she specifically said that no one—”

“She knows Jed and Freya. She knows perfectly well those two would die before they willingly stayed behind, certainly if family’s involved. If you try to convince her they’re doing as they’re told, she’ll get suspicious.”

“But what am I supposed to tell her, for fuck’s sake? That I stayed behind, that I’m with them? She’ll want me to bring them in! I won’t know what to tell her!”

I shrugged. “Tell her they’re hard to manage. She knows that already. Tell her you’re struggling, that you can’t control them. Maintain what trust she has in you. Figure it out. Play dumb. Stall. Play for time. I can’t do it for you. Your part’s out of my hands, so step up, for fuck’s sake!”

Mick nodded slowly. “Okay,” he said. “Okay, I’ll do what I can.”

Freya hugged me. I was in frozen mode, and I felt as if she were hugging another person, and I was watching remotely, from someplace far away. Jed gave me a fierce hug as well. I wished I felt present for it. Who knew if this was the last time.

I went out and up the breezeway, out onto the helipad. Got into the first car I came across in the garage. Freya and Jed trailed after me. Her face was shiny with tears.

“Stay sharp, for Holly,” I told her. “And keep an eye on Mick.”

She nodded. I activated the gate opener, and found myself reflecting bitterly upon how much money, effort, design, and thought had gone into the security of this place, and how little it all meant in the end.

Aw, fuck it. We all had our weak spots. It was just a matter of who was more ruthless at exploiting them. I would never regret loving my family.

It was hypocritical to be so furious at Mick. I was exactly as compromised as he had been. Obediently doing as I was told, just as he had done, and I hadn’t even gotten myself spanked yet, not like he had. Over and over. Brutally.

I didn’t dare let myself think about that. My soul recoiled from it.

And our plan wasn’t even a plan yet. There wasn’t enough info plugged into it to decide upon any course of action. There was nothing to do but wait for more. Go in there, blind, no plan. Fingers crossed that the Drakes could pull something out of their asses that might help us. Please, God.

It took three hours and twenty minutes to drive into downtown Portland. My mind was racing the whole way, grinding through all the info I did have. It was still too early for the real morning traffic crunch, so I got to the shiny, high-budget new office park on the riverfront that Nicole had designated without getting stuck in morning gridlock. The place wasn’t far from the new convention center. I could see it from where I was parked. I could smell the river when I got out of the car.

I left the car in front of the main entrance, exactly as I had been instructed, in spite of the no-parking zone. Inside the building, it was quiet and empty. Just a bald, heavyset security guy seated at the desk.

His gaze fastened on me as I approached. “Can I help you?”

“I need to speak to Franco,” I said.

The man scribbled something on a stick-on badge, and handed it to me. “Go to the first elevator bank,” he said, his voice expressionless.

“What floor?” I asked.

“Don’t worry about that,” the guy said, without looking up at me. “It’ll take you where you need to go.”

I exhaled slowly as I walked to the elevator. I felt like a condemned man walking to the gallows. These were my last moments of freedom. Not that I could call this freedom, while they held the people I loved hostage.

At least Freya was still free, and thank God she had Jed, who would defend her like a junkyard dog. I was fiercely glad of that.

The elevator went down, down, down, without me asking anything of it. I smiled grimly to myself, at how oddly appropriate that was. I’d gone full circle.

The door opened into the parking garage. Five big guys stood there, pointing guns at me. Pretty much what I’d expected. Banal, even.

One stepped forward with a businesslike air, holding up zip ties and a hood.

“Turn around,” he said. “Hands behind your back.”

I complied. My hands were fastened. The hood was jerked over my head. It smelled bitter and faintly chemical. I saw very faintly through the weave.

I heard the sound of a car trunk opening, and then I got roughly shoved and stuffed into it. The lid slammed down, and it was absolute darkness. The motor roared to life, and the car started to move.

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