Risky Romance (Wolf Security #4)

13. Grant

CHAPTER 13

Grant

Shoving back from my computer desk, I stood and rubbed my eyes that ached from a sleepless night spent staring at the screen. I made my way to the bank of bulletproof windows that lined the southern wall of the secret home I’d built in the hills overlooking the Baxter Creek Plantation.

The first hints of dawn painted the sky in deep blues and soft oranges, creating a calm scene that stood in stark contrast to my jangled nerves. Peering through my high-powered telescope, I scanned the distant plantation, searching for flashing blue lights that might signal a need to get the hell out of there. But everything appeared as it always did—boring, ordinary, with no indication of the massive drug operation running beneath the fields.

If the farm was raided, I had my escape routes planned.

My chopper was the first option—it had already saved me when I blew up my island mansion. If the chopper failed to be an escape option, the secret tunnel built under this fortified home would be my next. I had four escape routes, and each one had a fully stocked vehicle ready to roll.

All night, I had scoured the dark web for signs that the cops were closing in on the plantation, but there was nothing. Their silence was almost worse than bad news. I knew how to handle bad news . . . run. But the absence of information gnawed at me, creating an endless loop in my mind from, don’t panic, everything is okay, to, I should run now while it’s still safe —and back to calm the fuck down.

If the cops were planning a stealth raid, my window of escape would shrink by the minute.

I couldn’t believe that bastard Cody had slipped away with that woman. John had gone to extreme lengths to keep Cody in the dark about the drug lab beneath the cornfield, so I was certain he knew nothing. But with that Border Force woman in his ear, he might start piecing things together.

And that was dangerous.

As the first rays of sunlight crept over the eastern mountains, I trudged to the kitchen and poured myself another coffee. My hands shook slightly, a toxic cocktail of caffeine overload and raw nerves.

Where the hell was B? That bitch had ignored my calls and messages all night. Maybe she’d already taken off. Did she have escape strategies like I did?

B always played dumb when I talked to her, but I suspected it was just a front. She had everyone fooled, working closely with all arms of our criminal activities, yet nobody knew who she really was—including me.

That pissed me right off.

The shrill beep of the perimeter alarm shattered the stillness. I spun toward the security panel, tripped over my damn cat, and spilled scalding coffee down my shorts and left leg.

“Goddammit!” My heart raced as I rushed to the security monitors.

Was it the cops? I pictured squad cars screeching along the concealed dirt tracks leading to my hideout.

It was John on a motorbike. He wasn’t on the tracks, instead he careened through the scrub, aiming straight for the house.

“What the hell?” He wore no helmet, and the distress etched on his face sent a fresh wave of dread up my spine.

How did he find me? This place was my secret.

As he pounded on the door, I dashed across the cold slate tiles and wrenched it open.

He barged in, shoving me aside. “Get the chopper in the air,” he demanded. “We need to find Cody and that woman. Now!”

“What’s going on?”

“We need to get them. That’s what!” John’s wild eyes were frantic.

“How did you find me?”

John scoffed. “Really? You build this monstrosity in these hills and think I wouldn’t notice?”

I had to stop my jaw from dropping. My mind crashed all over the place. My secret hideout was compromised. I needed to get out of here while I still could.

“You’re so fucking naive. People talk.” Foul odors of sweat and bad breath wafted from him. “Everyone knows about this place. Now stop stalling and get that fucking bird in the sky. We gotta stop Cody, or we’re both fucked.”

He raised the rifle in his right hand.

The meaning behind the weapon was loud and clear. Cody may be John’s nephew, but the blood between them was as cold as mercury.

“Hey!” John gripped my arm, digging his fingers into my flesh. “Snap out of it. We gotta roll. Get the keys.”

He forced me forward. As I stumbled toward the kitchen, his boots stomped across my slate floor.

“I always knew you were watchin’ us. But really . . .” He thumped the telescope with his fist, angling the scope downward. “You’re an asshole, Hughes.”

My heart thundered as indecision gripped me. Should I run now? I clenched my jaw, picturing myself sprinting to the secret hatch that led to my underground tunnels. But John would probably shoot me in the back.

No. I needed to play along until I ditched him and then stick with my planned escape.

Trying to mask the tremor in my hands, I grabbed the keys. “Let’s go.”

I rushed out the side door into the brisk morning air, and as I stepped onto the cold grass, I realized I had no shoes on. I could use that as an excuse to return inside and keep on running.

No. John wouldn’t fall for that.

As we approached the chopper, a sinking feeling settled in my mind. This could be my last chance to escape. But I shuddered as I imagined John’s bullet shattering my spine.

Just keep calm and keep your head straight. You’re smarter than this asshole.

We climbed into the cockpit, and as I ran through the pre-flight checks, John pulled on his seatbelt and settled the rifle across his lap.

“Point that thing away from me,” I hissed.

A sick smirk crossed his lips. “This?”

He slapped the barrel.

“What are you going to do with it anyway?” I started the engine.

“Well, I’m not using it to shoot ‘roos, if that’s what you mean.”

“You really think you can shoot your own nephew?”

John’s top lip twitched. “If I have to.”

Cody was John’s only living relative, and his coldness to his family blood contrasted sharply with my own. I’d done everything possible for my only brother, Cooper, and I would never forgive myself for dragging him into the Scorpion Industries bullshit. Cooper was a military hero, doing just fine until I talked him into something he didn’t want to do. Now he was dead because of that bitch cop, Lacey Brooks.

“Come on. Come on. What the fuck are you waiting for?” John slapped the rifle again.

Clenching my jaw, I pulled back on the joystick and shot us airborne so fast my stomach dropped. John gripped the cabin roof, and the blood drained from his face as I tilted the cockpit forward, angling us toward the Daintree Rainforest.

John fidgeted beside me as the dense canopy stretched below us, a sea of green that could hide anything—or anyone. I flew the chopper up steep inclines, along a rapid-flowing river that snaked through the landscape with the water shimmering in the pre-dawn light. We scaled Devil’s Thumb, hovering four thousand feet above sea level, and scanned the vast expanse of trees below.But with each mile we crossed, I saw nothing but fields of green.

This is pointless. We won’t find him this way.

The fuel gauge beeped, and I groaned.

“This is a waste of fucking time,” John blurted.

For once, I agreed with him. I tapped the fuel gauge. “We need to turn back.”

John didn’t argue, and that made me worry even more.

Tilting the controls, I flew over the range again. In the distance, the sun had started its slide into the western horizon, spearing straight into my eyes, nearly blinding me. “What’s the plan now?”

“There is no plan, Hughes. It’s over.”

“What’s over?”

He shifted in his seat so the rifle on his lap aimed toward my knee. “Everything is over,” he said, his tone edged with panic. “I’m gettin’ in my truck and driving into the sunset. I’m out.”

“Like fuck you are,” I hissed. “You’re in this with me.”

The rifle barrel rose to my stomach. “Not anymore.”

He won’t shoot me—he needs me to fly the chopper.

But as his finger pressed against the trigger, doubt crept in. The bastard was crazy enough to gamble that I was capable of flying the chopper with a gut wound.

Every nerve in my body twitched.