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“You did a great job at that,” I sneer. “She thought you were dead. Sold into trafficking to never be seen again.”
“I didn’t want her wrapped up in the bullshit that I was, but I see that plan didn’t work out the greatest.”
“If anything, your scheme worked out wonderfully. She’s been on the hunt for you all for years to locate you. Silly ol’ you decided that you just wanted to run away and make it all better,” I fume, spit flying through my teeth at the sarcastic remarks.
“Even if it didn’t fucking work, she’s my sister, and I can call her by her fucking name,” he demands angrily.
“Wait until you call her Blaine, dumb fuck. She hates it because of you. So, good luck with that.” The blood in my veins threatens to boil through my skin. Deciding that I have had enough, we move on. “What’s the escape plan?” I snap, irritated that he’s even questioning that shit. He shoots me a glare, telling me that it’s not over before looking back toward the blueprinted map.
“I will come in through there,” he points to a short hallway on one side of the house and motions across the way to another room. “This room should have a tunnel that I can access to get to the access point of her room. Then, we’ll come through this hallway and come back through here.” He walks me through it a few times, pointing to potential exit plans if it doesn’t work out the way they need to. “This wall was put up a few years ago in the plan but it’s not structurally sound and should crumble easily.”
“And if it doesn’t?” I ask, a pit in my stomach already knowing the answer.
“Then we’re fucked.” Nodding, I remain silent as we stare at the plan together.
“So, you have other exit plans until this point,” I muse, trying to figure out if there might be anything we’re missing. Sadly, Leather was the one who did all this. It was her wheelhouse, and I graciously let her do it. Mainly because I had zero desire to do it, and also because it didn’t take her any brain power. “Planning must be in your genes,” I mutter and shake my head. I can’t stare at it any longer.
“Why’s that?” He sips from his coffee, narrowing his eyes at the prints laid out.
“Because Leather is one of the best coordinator’s we’ve got. She manages to have escape routes for literally everything. It could be so damn unconventional that we’d never have thought of it without her.” The hole in my chest doesn’t get any smaller as I bring her up. She would be so damn disappointed in me if she knew the shit I pulled. It may not have been a solo effort, but I was the one who approved it.
Not wanting to dwell on it anymore, I turn away from the plans and make myself a cup of black coffee. Thinking about the gallon of creamer Leather usually puts in her coffee makes me crack a smile. It’s the simple things in life that we notice about people that aren’t with us anymore.
Again, the pit in my stomach gets just a smidge bigger.
“You look deep in thought,” Daryn notes, propping himself on his desk. “We need to tell the troops the plan.”
“What are we going to do, exactly?” The whole plan that he laid out was only what he would be doing.
“Well, once we exit through that crumbling wall, the tunnel is likely to crumble with it.”
“That still doesn’t answer the question,” I insist, bringing the cup to my lips and savoring the bitter taste. He rolls his eyes, motioning me back to the table with the prints.
“Here,” he points to the end of the tunnel. “We’ll need men stationed here. If things don’t work out and we’re tailed, reinforcements will be needed.”
“How will we see where you are in this place?”
“I’m chipped,” he shrugs like it’s the easiest thing in the world.
“Leather was chipped too, and it was disconnected,” I point out. Finally, a stupid thought comes to my head. “I bet they have a signal jammer. I will have Phisher look into it.”
Will you check the base out for jams?
Got it.
Putting my phone away, neither one of us says anything else. All I want to do is run out of here and get her. Tell Daryn to fuck right off and get it over with.
“Oh, just so you know,” he says after chugging the rest of his coffee. “The club doesn’t call me Daryn, only my closest friends. They usually just call me Nemo.”
“Nemo?” I ask incredulously. “Why would they call you Nemo? Did you get lost at sea?” I tease, finally cracking a smile.
“Fuck off,” he grumbles, pushing his way out of the room. Meeting down at the dining hall, everyone waits patiently for us to arrive.
“Let’s go over the plan,” he announces, taking the seat at the head of the table.
Chapter Forty-Three
Leather
