Chapter 75

My soaked body and hair was dripping water onto the carpet. Nothing but a towel tucked under my arms and around me, the cold air invaded my skin. Yet, my arm hairs stood on end for a different reason.

Staring at Luke, my mind was racing. Fear, panic, and anger ambushed my brain. Reid's husky voice came through the phone again between us. "Did you find the note I left in Michelle Tate's apartment?"

"U-Um, yeah," I said, trying to stay focused. This man was the source of our hell. He has Brooke! What if I say something that makes shit worse? Jesus, I could not freak out and it was extremely difficult.

Luke at least had faith in me – or rather understood the importance of this phone call. Holding out the phone, gesturing for me to take it, I did. Then, his crutches assisted him in quickly leaving the room.

"Good. And have you and your ass kissers arrived at the consensus that you'll comply to my terms?" he asked casually.

Strangely enough, his tone calmed my nerves enough to be myself. "Obviously. Do you have to even ask?" I growled.

A laugh was released through the phone receiver. "You can't blame me for checking. These past months, I've learned you'll do anything to not be captured."

"When you drag an innocent girl into this, not anything."

The door of the motel room flung back open. Luke rushed back in with Jackson behind him. Stress and surprise caressed their expressions, but it was nothing compared to Francis. He rushed into the room too, jaw tight and bloodshot eyes at strict attention. None of them said a word as they stood before me. Francis made a point to stand right next to me, eyes flicking between me and the phone.

"Well, since you have good judgment and agreed to adhere to my conditions, we need a place. I was thinking we meet on the outskirts of Wickword Nature Preserve. Nobody would get in our way and the location is easily accessible."

Looking down to the phone, a droplet of water fell from my nose and landed on the screen. I wasn't sure what to say. Where was this place? Would it be a good location for Luke and Jackson to execute their plan? Then again, it did not matter. What mattered was getting Brooke back. The last thing we want is to cause an issue or raise Reid's suspicions.

"That works," I said, clearing my throat. Across from me, I could hear Jackson sigh heavily. Glancing up to him, his wide eyes searched aimlessly in thought. Despite his flustered state, I continued speaking to Reid. "I just want this to go as smooth as possible to ensure Brooke is safe."

"You don't need to worry about the little one. Your father can validate I'm a man of my word.

The father in question stormed further into the room. He grabbed a piece of stationary and a pen from the table. While he quickly scribbled something down, Francis jolted in anxiety at Reid mentioning his daughter. His lips moved with the temptation to speak. But an emotional Francis speaking to his daughter's captor was not a good idea.

I spoke before he could. "Uh-Um, well, believe me, Jackson already reassured me of that. We still...." Jackson rushed back into sight and held up the paper. It sloppily said, 'Ask details. Time, people, exchange.' I fumbled over my words. "Uh... we just want to be safe and know more. So, what else? I mean what time—"

"Albany, I wouldn't dare think you took this call without supervision," Reid interrupted with amusement. He could clearly tell I wasn't alone. "If anyone has anything to say, any questions, they can ask it themselves. I am sure my old friend is anxious to know more. You always were thorough, Jackson."

It's been a long time since Jackson spoke to his old leader. The last time would have been when he worked directly under Reid. You could see the weight of these next words weigh on Jackson. This was a big moment.

Jackson took a deep breath. Crumbling the paper and dropping it, he directed his words to the phone in my hand. "We're going to want to know more about this place. Where you want Albany to specifically go, the circumstances, the steps that will need to be taken for this to be a successful trade."

Reid responded in a blank voice. "Albany, you will enter Wickword Nature Center's east entrance at 9:00 in the morning. The only person to accommodate you is Brooke's father, Francis. For her sake, I hope it's well understood nobody else will be accompanying you. Jackson and Luke Prenta are not to be involved in any capacity," he said, heavily stressing those words. Knowing the plan was to disobey him made my stomach drop. "Once you and Francis arrive, you will walk down Evergreen Trail. After a few yards, there is a footpath that branches off to the right. You take it to the outskirts; it won't take long until you find us there. Aside from Brooke and I, there will only be one or two other men with me. Then, basically, you will give yourself over at the same time we give Brooke back to her father. It's that simple."

Okay. Okay, that didn't sound bad. It was simple. It sounded like a simple exchange. Plus, it involved a nice stroll in the woods. You can't get better than that, right? I wanted to do it. I wanted the picture Reid painted for us to happen. It wasn't risky. It invited nothing surprising, unlike our plan. And based on Reid's heavy emphases on following his directions, I was losing faith in our plan.

Not only was it clear Reid's guard was up, he offered us a reminder of what was at stake thanks to Francis. "I want to talk to my baby," Francis belted out, taking the reins of this conversation. "Please, I want to talk to her and know she is okay. I want her to know everything will be okay." Tears welled up in his gaze. He stared at the phone as if his life depended on it.

My hand not holding the phone gripped the towel of the fabric on my hip tightly. Looking up to Francis next to me, my mouth drained dry. This was not a good idea. Francis was not stable. Who knows what that would mean to Reid. However, as it turned out, hearing Francis's distress validated we were more than serious about getting her back.

"She is fine, Mr. Prenta. I would hate to spoil your reunion with her," he said teasingly.

"No, please! Please, please, just let me hear her voice," he begged, tears streaming.

He chuckled. "If you calm down, I suppose I can allow it. Brooke has been crying for you this whole time anyway."

His words were just a cheap jab to get under Francis's skin, but I didn't doubt Brooke was a mess. Neither did Francis. A hand flew up and clasped over Francis's parted lips. His wet eyes closed, and a whimper echoed from his throat. Talking to Brooke would only break him more. Then again, allowing them to speak would only make us more determined to cooperate and get her back.

After the four of us stared at the silent phone, waiting, her little voice came through. "Daddy?"

"Baby," Francis wheezed, eyes shooting open. "Baby, it's me. Are you okay? I'm—"

"Where are you? I'm scared! Daddy, I'm scared, I'm scared!"

His torso buckled forward, but his wide wet gaze trained on the phone kept him from collapsing. Immediately, I wrapped my arm around Francis's arched back to help him support himself. Making sure the towel stayed tucked under my arms, I pulled his side to mine and kept the phone hovered in front of us. Honestly though, I just wanted to drop the phone and run. Brooke's voice absolutely shattered us – and her soft crying was constant now. Water blurred my vision. Across from us, Luke couldn't even stand still and backed up a few feet.

"I...I know, honey," Francis said, forcing out a strong tone despite his body convulsing as if he was sobbing. "I'll see you very soon. Very soon. Then, we will go home and everything is going to be okay. Okay baby? In a few days, I'll be there to get you."

The only response we got was louder crying. Her high-pitched voice rang out in raw pain. The sound crumbled my insides – and absolutely destroyed Francis. After finally talking to her father, hearing him say it would be a few more days destroyed her hope.

Shaking, releasing a cry of his own, Francis continued speaking. "I know, b-baby, I know. Brooke, I know a few days seems like a lot, but I promise, honey. I promise everything is going to be okay. Just stay strong."

Without realizing it, my cheeks were wet with more than just water from the shower. Taking a deep breath, listening to Brooke's nonstop crying, her father continued talking to her. Soothing her until she could speak again through her cries. "Daddy, hurry, hurry, hurry," she begged.

After cringing hard and letting out a silent cry, he said, "I will baby. I love you sweetheart, everything will be okay."

Then, after a long second, Brooke was no longer on the phone. Instead, my sorrow quickly turned back into anxiety. Reid's smooth voice was back. "See, Brooke is doing fi—"

"You fucking hurt her you son of a bitch—"

"Well, I won't," Reid said lightly, interrupting right back. "I will have no reason to because you are going to follow my instructions. Right Albany?"

"Yes. Yes, you can believe me, I'm doing this," I said – and fucking meant it. With Brooke on the phone and Reid's clear paranoia, there was no way in hell we were going through with any plan. Francis stumbling off, breathing hard and gripping his hair, only increased my growing sureness on the matter.

"I'm glad to hear it Albany," he said. "But the love of your life must be devastated because he has yet to chime in. In fact, it's hard for me to imagine you agreed to this, Luke."

Reid's nonchalant and laidback tone was genuine. It didn't give me the image of some cult leader. However, his words made my stomach twist. By calling out Luke, was he thinking we were going to fuck him over? To be fair, it was common sense that Luke would have a huge problem with me giving myself over.

Glancing up to the Luke, his fists were tight around the crutch handles. His face was blank, eyes slowly tilting up to mine. "'Agreed' isn't the right word. I accepted it."

"Mr. Prenta, not to sound like a stalker, but I know enough about your relationship with Albany to speculate it would be a difficult process to accept any part of this. So, I think I should warn you folks again. I will know if you attempt to deceive me."

The phone call wrapped up quickly after that warning. It stunned us into silence after he hung up. We just... looked at each other. Letting Reid's words sink in – and Brooke's, which just suffocated my heart. Across from me, Jackson and Luke had a defining expression of anxiety. Hmm. Maybe they were realizing the plan was too dangerous to attempt.

"Still have faith in your plan?" I mumbled.

Jackson was the first to respond with a scoff. His sharp eyes flicked up to me. "You're going to let a man skilled in persuasion and brainwashing affect you? Come on, Albany."

From where Francis stumbled further into the room, his cracking voice drew our eyes to the poor man. He was slumped on the floor, propped against the bed. "Jackson, I-I need to know more. I need to know what she's going through. I need to know what he's doing to her in there," he cried, tilting his head away as he gasped out a rough sob. "I want to know e-e-everything!"

Beneath my towel, my own chest jerked; I wanted to cry with him. He didn't give two shits about anything Reid said. His whole focus and heart was with the few moments he got to speak to his daughter. Which truly, truly, drove everything deeper. This was real, she was there, and she would die if Reid gets suspicious.

I'm sure it added weight to Jackson's shoulders. Though he verbalized he still believed in his plan, Jackson's face contorted in uneasiness. His eyes rested on Francis across the room. "What do you want to know? What happens to little girls her age in the system? Listen, she's being treated fine."

"How? I want to know more, I w-want, need, I must know what you know," Francis groaned.

"Alright." Lips pursing, his eyes flashed to mine for a split second. They were filled with sympathy, but there was an edge to his gaze. Was he just telling Francis what he wanted to hear? I fucking hope not. The next second, he walked over and pulled up a chair in front of Francis. "Calm your shit, I'll tell you."

As for where I stood with Luke, my attention returned to him. Crossing my arms, retightening the towel around me, I shook my head. "Are you going to lie and tell me you still feel comfortable going through with a plan?"

He stared at me for a long second. After evaluating the phone call in his head, he nodded. Or maybe he just convinced himself everything would be fine. "Jackson knows him better than anyone. And you know you can trust him."

Wanting a little privacy, and warmth, I gestured for Luke to follow and walked back into the bathroom. Once we stood on the tile, Luke pushed the door mostly shut with his crutch. Mirror fogged thanks to the still heated air, I sighed. "Listen, I do trust him. I trust him to protect me. I trust the plan will work – for me. Jackson isn't thinking about Brooke and I'm scared you don't see that."

"Well I am thinking about Brooke," he pushed as if I insulted him.

"Really? I think you're lying to yourself."

"Are you serious right now?" he asked in a low voice, eyes narrowing.

Internally, I braced myself. He did not like what I was accusing him of – at all. But after that phone call, how wasn't he concerned? I sighed. "Luke, I know you care and want what's best. But how can you still trust your plan? Reid literally called you out and said he's having a hard time believing you would let this happen. He warned us several times – and I don't think his threats are empty. When he said he'll know, we can't just hope he's bullshitting us."

Jaw clenching, he looked to the floor. "He says some scary words and that's all it takes for you to give up?"

"When it concerns Brooke, yeah," I said sharply. "Reid's way guarantees her safety. Plus, he named the place we'll be meeting. You know he will have guys watching it, waiting for you and Jackson to set up camp with your damn sniper rifles."

"We've already told you. With the equipment, we will be able to see if anyone is around—"

"Yeah, I know. What if they have the same shit we do? Ever think of that?"

He scoffed, and for a small second, stalled before speaking. "Stop. W-What happened to trusting me?"

We stared at each other for a long moment. It was impossible to read thoughts, but I didn't need to. Whatever Luke was thinking, it revolved around winning this argument. Because if he didn't get his way, if we didn't do the plan, then I'm a goner. I was quickly figuring out he could not allow that to happen – no matter what. Mentally and emotionally, that wasn't a possibility. That's why I think he subconsciously convinced himself Brooke would be safe and the plan would be fine. It was the only way I could walk away from this free.

Stepping closer to him, crossing my arms over my towel and torso, I searched his annoyed face. His deep green eyes were guarded. "Let's say your plan was risky and not foolproof. Let's say Brooke could potentially die. Then what?"

"Then we would find a new way, another plan, but we don't have to."

My heart turned uncomfortably in my chest. I loved and hated the sureness in his voice. Selfishly, I wanted to believe him. I wanted to have faith in his plan like he did. Killing Reid would save every one of us from our doomed fates. However, I truly didn't think it would be that easy – or worth the huge risk. There were so many obvious holes in this plan, reasons to not go through with it. I wanted to truth and believe Luke, but his reassurance was just denial. It was selfish. We find a new way? That's the solution if our plan is risky? Handing myself over was not even an option in his head. That's what was disturbing.

"Me giving myself over for Brooke isn't even a possibility?" I whispered.

I understood Luke. Understood why his subconscious was making him selfish. It was beyond tempting to give in. I mean fuck, I'm the one Reid is requiring. It would destroy my life. But every time I thought about Brooke, it didn't matter. Our fight, our struggles, all the blood and tears I shed... it was not worth risking Brooke's life. And despite how selfish Luke is being, it was that selfishness that made him truly believe Brooke would be fine.

"No, I won't let you," he mumbled, glancing mindlessly towards the sink. "Saving Brooke is crucial. I would do anything for my niece; you know that. I wouldn't trust this plan if it didn't mean Brooke would be safe. Okay?"

How do you a trust a plan with so many unknowns? How do you trust a plan when you have zero idea what Reid has up his sleeve? How do you have the balls to trust a plan when it's all happening in a place recommended by the enemy? No matter what Luke said at this point, I could not side with him. I could not let this plan happen.

"If I don't agree? You still won't let me do it?"

He shook his head. "I won't let you do it."

Try to stop me was all I could think. 

Persuading him to let me give myself up was off the table. Anything with words would not work on him. Just like anything out of his mouth would not convince me to trust his plan. So, there was no use fighting with him. I would find a way to stop him. Somehow, someway, for once, I would get my way. "Can I go back in the shower now?"

His stubborn exterior cracked. "Yes, but... do you understand now?" Brushing my bare arm, his voice softened. "I just can't stand by and watch you trade yourself. I need both you and Brooke safe."

Love slowly creeping back into his eyes, my stomach twisted. "I know. I do understand and you're right."

I figured he saw through my words. Maybe I let it go and agreed too fast. Regardless, after skeptically eyeing me, he believed my lie. It was a shame in a way. I wanted him to know these next few days would be our last. I planned on milking the shit out of the next few days with him. All the while, he'll be oblivious. He won't know I'm doing things my way until I somehow stop him and Jackson at the last minute. Jesus fuck, how was I going to even pull that off?

Physically stopping them would be difficult. Mental would be a bitch too. Because it wasn't just me giving myself up. Letting Reid win and take me means Luke and Jackson will go to prison. Ugh, god, how can I let that happen? Luke in prison weighed more than the idea of me being taken by Reid. Such a fucking headache. Christ, maybe Luke had a point. His plan could save us all.

Could. His plan could save us, but it might not. What if something happens to Brooke? Or if Luke gets killed trying to enact his plan? It's not like the dude on crutches will be able to run if he's caught. Still though... I couldn't forget his words from a while ago. He would rather die than be in prison.

After finishing my shower, I pondered over all this and more. Everyone was asleep except me. Made sense. I was the only one actively brainstorming about how to betray this plan. Even Francis was sleeping; whatever Jackson said must have reassured him. Hell, maybe I should have talked to him earlier instead of Luke. Instead, I was dead set on doing this – and very conflicted at the same time over it.

Taking in Luke motivated the gears in my head. We were both laying on our sides under the covers. His arms encircled me, holding me to his chest. It was warm and safe. A slit of light from the cracked bathroom door allowed my eyes to caress Luke's sleeping face. No lines, lids smooth, it was a peaceful sight. Hair messy against the pillow we shared, I couldn't look away from him.

How can I save him? How can I save him from prison when I trade myself for Brooke and let Reid take me? I didn't have a clue.

Then, an idea struck me.

Even if it's a dead-end idea, what would it hurt to try? Slipping my hands to my sides, I lightly grasped his bare arms surrounding me. Then, I carefully tried untangling myself and scooting away. Of course, I suck ass.

"Baby?" he whispered groggily, eyes still closed.

"It's alright," I said, gingerly sitting up. Now, time for a good excuse. "I'm just... hungry."

"What time is it?" he mumbled.

Glancing behind my shoulder to the clock, I sighed. Hopefully my answer wouldn't raise his suspicions. "2:20."

Readjusting himself under the covers, he grabbed my hand and kissed the back of it. "You can have my leftovers if you want," he mumbled. By the time I stood up, Luke was already back to sleep with a soft snore.

Well, my excuse worked. Guess I'm going to have to force some food down. Darn.

Quietly swiping the white foam takeout box from the fridge, I also swiped my phone and room key. Keeping an eye on Luke, I slowly inched towards the door. He did not need to wake up again. Otherwise, he will freak out and my ass will get busted. What excuse will I have if that happens? 'Hey, I just wanted to finish off your steak sandwich outside and prank call someone.' Well, I guess that wasn't too bad.

Sliding on my shoes and Luke's jacket, I slowly opened the motel door and crept out. By the time I latched it quietly behind me, I took a deep breath. Step one complete.

Cold air rushed me. Walking down to the parking lot, I sat down on the curb. A few cars were parked to my left, blocking most of the wind. Opening the box on my outstretched legs, I took a bite of the half sandwich and opened my phone. Though we made it clear we were done with the FBI, our new red-headed agent still thankfully provided us with his number. Hopefully, the rookie would come to my rescue. Time to wake the bitch up.

After dialing his number twice, Agent Weston finally answered. "Hello?"

"Took you long enough," I said, dropping the remnants of the sandwich back into the container. Setting it aside, I pulled my knees up closer to my chest and held the phone to my ear. "You know I'm freezing my ass off, right?"

"What? No...? No, how would I know your cold? It's two—"

"Just never mind. I'm calling because I want to propose this idea to you. Well, to your superiors too. I know you guys decided to be dicks and won't help us, but you might want to reconsider after you hear this."

"Um, okay," he said, clearing the sleep from his throat. "What is it?"

***

Considering how scared and on edge we were, the day wasn't off to a bad start. Which tells you something. How often will you ever hear me say I didn't mind being with Jackson? Never. Today though was a nice break. Any circumstance that led us out of our stuffy motel rooms was okay with me – even though the circumstance this time was pointless. After all, I was going to stop their plan.

"These directions are stupid. You sure you know where we're going?" I asked, stepping over a log and snapping a thin dead branch in half with my boot.

"Bill said it's one mile north from the dead-end of Chet Road. That's not very difficult to interpret."

Yes, that's right folks. Bill. You know... Jackson's friend who helped us before and someone Reid likely could know about. Shaking my head, I glanced up to where he walked beside me through the trees. "I know you said Bill was 'safe' about helping us. But him sending us on this treasure hunt was fucking retarded. Reid could be watching him for all you know."

Up until we entered the woods, Jackson kept his mouth shut. The whole two-hour drive here, all I knew was that Jackson's 'friend' helped us. This 'friend' placed two sniper rifles in an isolated location for us to retrieve. Strolling into a gun store wouldn't exactly be smart. Then again, neither is getting Bill involved. Just the fact that I had to beat it out of Jackson that this 'friend' was actually Bill said enough.

"Christ, I said there is nothing to worry about. Bill's hands are clean. He paid a complete stranger to do this for us. Bill simply relayed the information and gave us directions." Walking sideways for a second, he waved his hands dramatically towards me. "There. Happy, princess?"

"Would it have killed you to say that earlier?" I took a deep breath, looking ahead to the maze of trees. The proud sun filtered through and highlighted the yellowing leaves.

"It wouldn't have mattered," he said nonchalantly. "No matter how safe we are being, you would bitch and moan anyway."

"Dude, you're the one that invited me to come out here with you."

Wearing a black zip-up sweater, hands tucked into his jeans, his eyes flicked to mine. Beyond the stone brown gaze, more meaning was climbing to the surface. The only response was uncomfortable silence. Whatever I saw in his eyes was territory neither of us wanted to invade.

It created an awkwardness we were both aware of. And though he's a dick, Jackson and I both hated awkwardness. It gave me a chance to ask. "So, I'm curious. Was everything you told Francis last night just bullshit to make him feel better?"

"He was a crying mess, what was I supposed to do?"

"So it was bullshit?"

"Exaggerated," he clarified.

Even the fresh air and bright sun couldn't stop my muscles from tensing. Though I didn't hear a word he said to Francis, I knew he told him about what Brooke was experiencing. Apparently, the conditions weren't as nice as he led Francis to believe.

"Then what is she really going through?"

A humorless hum from the back of his throat caught my attention. Looking up to him, there was a cautious glint in his gaze. "Unlike the other girls, Brooke is there solely to be held for a few days. She is likely cut off from everything going on within the system. I assume she was given one of the temporary isolated cells."

"So she's being treated well? Isn't getting harassed?"

"She is provided food, water, a bed. However, regarding the details I gave to Franny-pack, I talked up the place. I claimed the cells were comfortable rooms. I told him that Brooke was being left alone, but I honestly don't know. There aren't many times where someone is kidnapped for the purpose of being a bargaining chip."

Well... his answer was better than I expected. Sure, he basically convinced Francis his daughter was being treated fine when he could only assume. But compared to the disturbing things I imagined Brooke facing, his assumptions were tame.

It only teased my curiosity. Though Jackson couldn't verify anything about Brooke's conditions, he could verify what my experience will be like. Tucking loose pieces of my hair blowing in the breeze behind my ear, I pursed my lips. "What would happen to me if I go in there?"

"Not going to happen. That's been established."

That's what he thought. "I said 'if' that were to happen."

"If you were behind those walls...." He trailed off, shaking his head and flinching. Flinching. Jackson hardly ever had a reaction to something that would overwhelm him to that extent. But with a tight jaw and eyes sweeping mindlessly, he continued. "If you were behind those walls, you'd see what I took part of. You'd see why I crossed this country and killed in order for you to never find out."

He didn't give me the answer I hoped for. Instead, he gave me a heavy heart. Honestly though, his answer was enough for my curiosity. I would find out on my own anyway. Though he was an asshole, I wouldn't feel any pleasure throwing away Jackson's efforts. He would be crushed when I turn myself over.

Depending on whether my private plan works, he hopefully wouldn't be crushed for too long. By the time my chat with Weston last night was finished, he was convinced my idea had potential. It might still screw me; I would still have to give myself over to Reid Taylor. However, it offered the best outcome for everyone. Luke and Jackson wouldn't go to prison and Brooke would be safe. Let's just keep our dicks crossed that Weston's superiors would be on board too when I pitch my idea to them.

Yes, to my surprise, the red-head rookie convinced his supervisor to meet with me.

After I presented my plan to him, he hung up with me and talked to his boss. Weston didn't tell him any details; only that it was a crucial offer and plan they might want to consider. Shockingly, the guy agreed. Well, he agreed to at least hear my ideas when he gets here.

Weston sent me a message relaying all this after our phone call. He said he'd let me know when the head honcho arrived. It made me anxious, nervous, and excited to propose my idea to him. Please god, just let it work....

"I don't want you to think about that, okay?" he said, forcing my attention back to reality and to him. His tone especially helped. It was filled with vulnerability – one he acknowledged with slight embarrassment. "You're not going to end up in there. I know you doubt this plan, but I... I can't stress enough I'm not letting you go. You can trust me on that."

"I know," I mumbled, feeling that uncomfortable air build between us. For whatever reason though, my lame emotions added to it. I've already faced not seeing Luke ever again; it destroyed me every time it crossed my mind. But Jackson? A small part of me – like two-inch-dick small, a super small part of me – might actually miss him.

Like me though, Jackson had issues expressing affection. It was clear he had to force himself to admit these next words to me. "I-I...um, just want to make everything right for you. You know what I mean? I want to give you back what I took away. That's what I attempted to do by giving you a new identity. Worked for a few years anyway. At least back then I was still your friend," he mumbled, clearing his throat and moving on before he could further embarrass himself. "Anyway, I think we should be coming up to it. Bill said the crate would be in an area of mostly pines."

By now, we were stepping on patches of grass littered with pine needles. They fell from the hulking pine trees that became more common as we walked. Honestly, I didn't notice. Not when a few of those words he said reached his lips.

Still my friend? He said that at least back then, I was still his friend. Where did that come from? Well, it came from somewhere deep within him. It was the only time he hinted about anything regarding his friendship with me back then. You know, when we were actually civil with each other. But a second after Jackson said those words, he buried the subject. I debated with myself weather to dig it up from under his hard shell or let it be. Stupidly, I wanted to hear more about it. He wanted to be a father, but the only relationship I've ever had with him was as a friend.

Before we both turned gay and started shitting rainbows, something caught our eye and made us pause. Among the scattered trees, along the grass and pine floor, there was a wooden crate. Just randomly sitting in the middle of the woods. Fuck, I would love to have watched the person drag that massive box out here. Christ, Bill must have paid the guy pretty good. A mile into the woods, I bet that sucker had a heart attack afterwards.

Then it hit me. We were a mile into the woods. Patting Jackson's shoulder, I spun on my heels. "I'll get a head start back to the truck."

"I don't think so, lazy shit. Come on."

I groaned and dragged my feet over to the crate with Jackson. God, this thing would be awful dragging back! Staring at it didn't help. It was a long wooden box, gold hinges against the edge where it opened. And when Jackson lifted the lid to peer inside, I was able to see the thickness of the wood. And no, it wasn't that kind of thick wood. My body might already be aching by just staring at it, but it wasn't with pleasure. It was with dread.

"You gonna show me where the wheels are on this fucking thing?" I demanded, pointing to it.

Jackson lifted one of the rifles from the messy hay. "I told you we were going to need to carry it back."

"Yeah, but I didn't expect the box to be that big."

"There are a lot of delicate parts in here aside from the rifles and I want them to stay protected in the box. So suck it up. Since I'm helping, it won't be that bad."

It was that bad. A mile. A fucking mile, guys. Out of everything in my crazy life, that better be the thing you remember if I give you a test. Albany Higgins carried and dragged an elephant-heavy box a mile through the woods. Jackson was strong and even he had a difficult time from where he carried his end. The worst part: the rifles were useless! I wasn't allowing Jackson and Luke to execute their plan anyway. It was a pain in the ass for nothing.

By the time we miraculously got the box in the bed of the truck and covered it with a tarp, we were dead. Like I sat down in the grass to rest and allow the breeze to brush my sweaty face. Jackson had no shame sitting a few feet away to rest too. Thanks to the truck being parked at a dead end, there was really nobody and nothing around. So, we took our time.

In that time... my phone vibrated in the pocket of my hoodie. Thankfully, Jackson wasn't sitting where he could see my screen. I got a message I've been anxiously waiting for since last night.

Agent Bosanack will be at my apartment by 1 am tonight. Will you be able to get away from everyone by then?

Bosanack was a name I heard before. Shit, I should have known. He was the guy who assigned Weston to us. When I met him after Agent Tate was killed, he didn't exactly give off a warm vibe. He reflected the FBI's general opinion of me I think. Suddenly, I wasn't as confident as I was before.

Hell though, Agent Weston accepted my idea. Loved it enough to drag his boss into this. Who knows, he might jump on board too. I also needed to worry just as equally about sneaking away from everyone tonight.

I glanced up to Jackson. His face was still lightly flushed, but he wasn't exhausted like he was a few minutes ago. Legs stretched before him, his eyes caught mine in an uncaring glance. "Everything okay?" he asked, nodding towards my phone.

"Yep, it's just Luke," I said.

Somehow, I'd have to get away from everyone while they sleep. Maybe for once, an escape attempt would end successfully for me. Typing my response, I then sent it. I'll be there.

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Well, a lot happened this chapter - and with Albany taking charge, a lot might continue to happen. What do you think about her betraying their plan? Have any ideas of what her new idea is she will be pitching to the FBI?

I hope you enjoyed. Things will be getting crazy....