Chapter 36
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Violet helped Max outside and across the lawn to the bushes where she'd left her stalker. The wind had picked up and it buffeted them, almost knocking them off their feet. She braced Max against herself, afraid he would fall if she let him go.
"Alan?" she hissed when they were close to the tree line.
She didn't have to call twice. Her stalker stepped out into the open, his eyes going to Max before coming back to her.
"Six men just went in the front door," he said. "Looked like a VIP protection detail. I couldn't get a good look at the man they were protecting, but I can tell you his guards were heavily armed."
"Thanks. That helps. We need to get Max out of sight of the house. Help me."
Alan instantly went to the other side of Max, wrapped an arm around his waist and took most of his weight.
"Uh, Vi, honey," Max said while looking up at Alan. "Want to introduce me to your friend?"
She almost smiled at his bewildered tone. "Max meet Alan Thomas, my guardian angel."
Max stiffened and turned back to her. He mouthed the word, "Stalker?"
She nodded.
He groaned.
At least he wasn't dumb enough to call the man a stalker to his face. Looked like he was learning.
They got Max into the bushes and positioned him at the base of a large palm tree. It was the best she could do for shelter under the circumstances. Once he was settled, she handed him the handgun she'd taken from Arlo.
"The safety's off. Just point and shoot," she told him. "But not at Benson Security."
Max acted like she'd handed him a snake. "I've never fired a gun. Shouldn't we give it to…uh…your guardian angel? He looks like he knows how to use one."
She stared at him. Yes, they would give the crazed stalker a gun. Never.
"No, Max, you keep the gun. Alan likes to use his fists, isn't that right?"
Alan studied Max for a moment. "You need it more than I do," he said at last.
Violet breathed a little easier. She faced Alan. "I need you to watch him. I have to go back in there."
He shook his head. "You're the warrior. I'm the protector. I watch you. Not your husband."
"I know that," Violet said evenly, losing patience. "But this is important to me." She pointed to Max. "That idiot is important to me and I'm trusting you to watch him for me."
"No." Alan folded his arms. "I watch you."
"I don't have time for this." She tried to wipe the rain from her face but more replaced it. "Listen—"
Max interrupted. "I'm okay here and I have the gun. I'd rather the big scary guy was with you."
"I protect you," Alan repeated.
There was no point in arguing. "Fine. You come with me. Max, you stay here and if anybody comes near you who you don't recognize, shoot them."
"Got it," Max said, holding the gun like it was a bomb that might accidentally go off in his hands.
"I'm not sure this is a good idea," Violet said.
"No," Max implored her. "This is our only chance. I need proof that Damien has a partner, and I need to know who it is."
"Whatever," she said. "I'm giving it five minutes and if I don't find the information you need, I'm leaving and we're giving up. Okay?"
"Yeah. Wait." He tugged at his sock and came out with her phone. He handed it to her. "For taking photos. I was using it to record Damien during my…interview." He grinned then moaned because it hurt.
Honestly, there was no dealing with him. He'd been born without any common sense or even the most basic survival instincts. She would have to spend the rest of her life trying to keep him alive.
She tucked the phone into her cargo pants pocket. It reminded her she was already carrying the two phones she took from the guards. She handed them to Max to free up some weight.
"Keep those," she said. "We might get something off them later.”
She fiddled around with the two-way radios for a second or two.
"Looks like the guards are using the second channel.
They probably keep the first free for Damien's use.
We'll use channel seven." She adjusted both radios before handing one to Max.
"I'm putting mine on silent, but if I need to get you, I'll do it on channel seven. Understood?"
"Yes," he took the radio. "Don't die, Violet," he said.
"Weird, I was going to say the same to you," she replied.
She hated leaving him there, injured and exposed to the elements, but there was no other option. She couldn't take him with her, not in his current state. Actually, not at all. He wouldn't know how to behave and it would endanger all of them.
"Keep an eye out for the team," she said to Max. "They probably know we're missing by now and will be out looking for us."
He started at that. "You mean they don't already know? I sent Rodrigo a text telling him to set you free."
Violet stared at him. "He obviously didn't get it."
"Then how…" Max trailed off when he saw her expression.
"We'll talk about it later," she promised. "At length."
He grimaced.
Violet signaled to her stalker. "Time to go."
They hurried off together. And Violet prayed Max would be there when she returned.
As Max watched Violet disappear into the night, a shiver of dread crept up his spine. She was heading into Damien's lair, with her crazed stalker for back up, and there was nothing he could do to help.
Or was there…
He looked down at the radio she'd given him.
What had she said? Channel seven for her, but everyone else was on channel two.
Which meant, if he broadcast on channel two, there was a good chance someone on the Benson Security team might hear him.
And if they heard him, he could tell them Violet needed help.
Adrenaline coursed through him, making his thoughts clearer. All he needed to do was talk in a way that didn't make Damien's security team suspicious. Some sort of code, that's what he needed. Something the Benson Security team would recognize.
It came to him in a flash. All he had to do was mention Lake Benson and they would instantly pay attention.
Trembling, he pressed the button to talk and brought the radio to his mouth. He kept his voice low, even though sound wouldn't carry very far in the storm.
"Hello," he said into the radio. "Anybody out there?
This is Lake's friend. I'm all alone in this storm and looking for someone to talk to.
If you're one of Lake's friends too, maybe you could answer and let me know if you're okay.
I was outside earlier and took a beating from the weather. It's wild tonight. You hear me?"
He let go of the button and listened. A voice came on the line, it wasn't friendly.
"Get off this channel. This is a private frequency," it snapped.
"A man has a right to be worried about his friends," Max said. "I just want to check to make sure everyone is okay, because not everybody is tucked up tight in bed right now. And it's dangerous out there if you're alone."
"I'm warning you," the same guy growled. "Get off this frequency."
"Or what?" Max said, irritated. "What will you do? I'm telling you, I'm Lake's friend and I'm looking for more of Lake's friends to see if they're okay."
"This is Lake's friend," came a Scottish voice.
Max felt like he might burst into tears. It had to be one of the triplets.
"You can call me Ginger," he said.
Relief almost stole Max's voice. It was Evan. Had to be. He was the only ginger triplet left, seeing as the other two had dyed their hair. He swallowed hard. "Ginger, good to hear from you. I'm glad you're safe."
"Get off this channel," Damien's guy shouted through the radio. "This is a private frequency."
Max cleared his throat. "Hey Ginger, this guy's no fun. How about I meet you on channel seven?"
"Roger that," Evan said.
With wet, fumbling fingers Max turned the dial on the radio. "Are you there, Ginger?"
"I'm here. How's the weather with you?"
Max let his head rest back against the palm. "Not good," he said. "Not good at all. It's really dangerous out there right now. It's not a good place to be alone."
"I hear you," Evan said. "A sensible person would have stayed inside."
Max winced. Guess the whole team knew he'd bolted by now.
"Roger that," he said. "I got pretty banged up by the storm, felt like I was trapped in it for a minute there, but a good friend got me to a place where I can ride it out in relative safety.
For a second, I didn't think I'd make it.
Now, I'm worried about them, they've gone back out into the storm and there's nobody to look out for them.
" Unless you counted an unstable stalker.
"Hey Ginger, and Lake's friend," another voice said. "I'm another one of Lake's friends. You can call me the Latin Lover."
Rodrigo. Max tightened his grip on the radio and sent up a prayer of thanks.
"Hey, Latin Lover," Max said. "You staying safe?"
"I'm out checking on a couple I know," he said. "Been a bit worried about them."
Violet had been right, her team were out looking for them.
"How long has your friend been out in the storm?" Rodrigo said.
"A couple of minutes." Max tried to think about how to get across Violet's location and situation, without giving away too much.
"She's a bit of a storm chaser. She's gone to take photos before it passes.
She wants to record the whole thing because she isn't sure when she'll see a storm like this again.
I was going to help her, but I got injured.
Now I'm worried she might have bitten off more than she can chew.
This storm is too big for one person to handle.
There's debris flying everywhere, it's like being in the middle of a war zone where everyone is armed. "
He hoped like hell Rodrigo got the message that Violet had gone to take photos of the partner, and the estate was filled with armed men.
"Yep, this is a bad one," Rodrigo said. "Maybe I should swing by and check on her, seeing as you're laid up and we're all such good friends of Lake. Do you know where she's headed?"
Damn. How was he going to explain that she was inside Damien's house.
"She's gone straight for the heart of it," he said at last. "The center where it's most dangerous. That's where she is."
"I understand," Rodrigo said. "Hold on tight. You and your friend aren't alone."
The radio went silent, and Max prayed it was enough to get Violet the help she needed.