Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 71880 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71880 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
“Total top,” I replied frankly. “He’s got that top aura.”
“Top aura,” Reese chuckled. “What the fuck is top aura?”
“Mercier has it too,” I said and shrugged.
“I’m gonna go ask him,” Crew said. “Elliott! Time to wake up!”
“For the love of…” That was a grumbling Mercier.
I liked Crew.
“Turn around and eat your breakfast, little one,” Reese said.
I did as told and got comfortable with my blanket across my lap, and I accepted a cup of hot chocolate and a plate with a new sandwich. “Thank you—but I think you mean midnight snack.”
He just shook his head in amusement.
I took a big bite of my sandwich and peered out the window again. I could see faint patches of city lights far below.
We were almost there.
CHAPTER 5
Joel Hayward
“Daddy?”
“Yeah, baby?”
She yawned. “I love you.”
“I love you too. More than all the s’mores and cookies in the world.”
She gasped. “Even Nana’s dulce de leche bars?”
“Even those.” I booped her on the nose before I reached over her to close the tent properly. Back to civilization tomorrow. But we’d had a good camping trip, just Blake and me and all the Redwoods California had to offer. We’d seen sea otters, we’d collected some sea glass, and we’d gorged on s’mores and cookie dough.
“You’re crazy, man,” Blake told me.
I chuckled and got comfortable next to her.
She sighed contently and planted her arms over the sleeping bag. “I think I want a sea otter for my birthday.”
I grinned. “Where would we keep it?”
“Uncle Ellie’s pool,” she snickered.
I snorted under my breath.
The man had moved in to his new ranch mere days ago, and Blake had managed to mention he had a pool at least a dozen times.
“How many things do you have on your wish list at this point?” I asked.
“Like, twenty-seven.”
I rumbled a laugh. “Narrow it down to five, thanks.”
“Okay, five sea otters.”
I cracked up.
I threw on my backpack on the way out, and I jogged down the steps with Elliott close behind me.
“The Tenleys in the first SUV, Joel and I are with Mercier and Crew,” he instructed.
It felt like a scene from a movie to see two SUVs waiting for us on the tarmac of the private airfield north of Barcelona. But in a shitty Hollywood movie, they’d be black with tinted windows. These didn’t stand out in a crowd—or a parking lot. Elliott tossed me the keys and nodded at the silver SUV; he was on the phone with Darius, and the Tenleys headed for the red vehicle. Except for Reese. He spoke to the only man present, and he didn’t look like a guard employed here. He wore a suit and spoke English. Either he was a Hillcroft operative or someone they knew.
Crew jogged up alongside me. “Hi. I drive.”
“There’s no use in arguing with him.” Mercier sounded like he spoke from experience.
Crew made a gimme-motion at the keys.
All right. I handed them over. I couldn’t say I cared about who drove.
After we’d tossed our bags in the back, Crew got in behind the wheel, and I ducked into the back seat with Elliott. Once Mercier was seated next to Crew, we were off.
“We wanna get on the E-15 going south, then follow the signs for Terrassa and Manresa,” Elliott ordered. “The E-9 will take us to Andorra.”
“Got it,” Crew replied.
He tore out of the spot and seemed to know exactly where we were going. Where to turn, which signs to follow to get us out of the private airfield, then onto the road heading toward Barcelona. Logistics weren’t my forte. I was always transported by others to get where they needed me.
I scratched my ear.
“Yeah, we’re on our way now,” Elliott was saying. “ETA two hours. Did you manage to put a tracker on their cars?”
Crew sped up as soon as we reached the highway, and speed limits seemed to be more of a suggestion in his world.
I didn’t mind. The sooner we got there…
“Remember what we said about speeding, sweetheart?” Mercier gripped the bar above the door on his side.
I smirked to myself.
“Yeah, it gets us places quicker,” Crew replied. He checked the rearview. “Step on it, Tenley. My grandma drives faster than that.”
“I just had to get hooked on a New Yorker,” Mercier sighed.
I met Crew’s grin in the rearview, and it was possible Elliott had called me a lunatic in traffic once or twice before too. Only, I’d been eighteen at the time.
Elliott covered his phone with his hand. “Crew, I think the limit’s 120 or 130 kilometers an hour here. Not…for fuck’s sake, not 180.”
“Listen to your boss,” Mercier advised.
Crew didn’t listen to anyone. If anything, he sped up further.
I looked behind me.
“Reese will catch up with us next week,” Crew said.
“At this rate, we’ll see you in twenty minutes,” Elliott told Darius. “Get back to me if you hear anything.” He ended the call soon after, and he gave us a rundown. “We have trackers on three of Carillo’s five vehicles, the man himself hasn’t left since they arrived, there’s nothing ostentatious about the cars, the house they’re in is fairly modest, and two guards take turns running errands. In other words, we think this is another safehouse. They probably won’t stay there long.”