by Angie Martin
“Mary—”
“Someone has to say it, no matter how much it hurts. Maybe I should have said it a long time ago.” She gestured to the security men. “That’s not your life. This is your life. Right here, with a greasy food truck taco and your feet half-buried in the sand.”
Sara looked down at her feet, which were just as Mary said. She couldn’t help that she loved the way the soft granules felt between her toes, just as she couldn’t help it if she craved greasy food truck tacos.
“Can you imagine what Stephen would say if he saw us?” Sara asked.
Mary scrunched up her face. “Food truck tacos are not suitable for my future wife and mother of my children,” she said, with an awkward impression of Stephen that sounded nothing like him.
“Stop it,” Sara said, despite the laugh that left her lips. “This is your life, too. You’re not cut out for any of that socialite stuff.”
“That’s because we were raised poor. We’re not like all the other rich kids on the block. If my parents hadn’t won the lottery and actually managed their money, then you and I never would have met at school.”
Sara fingered the small heart locket around her neck, the one her mother gave her before she passed away. “The same goes for if my mother hadn’t died.”
Mary shifted to the side, threw her leg up on the wall, and grabbed Sara’s arm with both hands. “Don’t do it. Don’t marry him.”
“But everything’s in place and ready. The dress is—”
“Screw the dress. You’re not happy with him and you don’t love him. Just walk out on this wedding like you slipped your security this morning. Your dad will forgive you eventually. Until then, you can hang out at my place. We can have a dress-burning party and pawn the ring.”
Sara laughed. She didn’t know why, but she couldn’t stop herself. Mary joined in and they laughed until tears rolled down their faces.
Sara wiped the tears from her eyes and pulled her best friend to her in a tight embrace. “I love you,” she said. “That’s all I need.”
Mary broke the hug. “No, that’s not all you need, but I’ll still support you if you go through with this. Just think about it, okay? It’s not too late to call it off, not until you’ve taken your vows. In fact, until the priest says man and wife, you can still get out of it.”
“I appreciate your concern,” Sara said, “but I’m going through with it. Just because I don’t love him now doesn’t mean I won’t someday.”
“That’s about the saddest thing I’ve ever heard,” Mary said. She shifted until she faced forward again and resumed devouring her burrito.
Sara touched her fingers to the ring again. It may be the saddest thing Mary had ever heard, but it felt much worse saying it.
Chapter Eleven
“Good afternoon, boys.”
“Good afternoon, Doctor Connors.”
The playful, singsong response from his team put a smile on Logan’s face for the first time that day. Allie grinned and shook her head, as she moved to the table at the front of the room with a machine in her hands. The members of his team shifted in their chairs, each with notepads and pens ready to take notes.
“Today we are going to learn about asthma,” she said, her tone keeping up the classroom pretense. She set the machine down on the table along with an inhaler. “Sara Langston has your run-of-the-mill asthma. During an attack, her bronchial tubes become inflamed, partially closing off her access to air. Should she have an attack, she’ll be short of breath, have some audible wheezing, and may cough. She’ll feel tightness in her chest and may panic a bit due to not getting enough oxygen. Everyone’s symptoms are different, however, so her symptoms may present slightly different.”
Logan looked to his left, as Jack raised his hand. Allie laughed and called on him.
“Will she know she’s having an attack?” Jack asked.
“Absolutely, although maybe not right away. Watch for things like her taking shallow breaths while talking and excessive yawning or sighing. You might also hear wheezing or her struggle to take breaths between words before she states she’s having an attack.”
“What do we do if she has an attack?” Charlie asked.
“The first thing you’ll do is give her a rescue inhaler.” Allie held up the inhaler. “This is your standard albuterol inhaler and should help open up her airways. If it doesn’t, she’ll need an immediate treatment. You’ll also want to inquire if she does regular treatments to maintain her asthma in addition to using maintenance inhalers.”
Logan’s head spun with the whirlwind of information and he scratched down notes as fast as he could.
Allie picked up the nebulizer. “Time to prepare a treatment.”
For the next several minutes, Logan and the rest of his team watched as Allie walked them through connecting tubes and adding medication to the machine in great detail. She flipped a switch on the machine and it roared to life. Within seconds, steam came from the mouthpiece.
“So the medication is in the steam?” Lester asked.
“Correct,” Allie said. “She breathes it in through this mouthpiece. The average treatment takes 10 minutes, maybe a little more. After the treatment, she might feel jittery and shaky throughout her body, as well as have increased and rapid heart rate. These are all normal, and in fact when she uses the rescue inhaler she may also have these symptoms, but to a lesser degree. The treatment may make her speed up her speech pattern because of the shakiness. Just make sure she has access to cold water and take it easy on her.”
Charlie stuck his hand up and Allie called on him. “What if the breathing treatment doesn’t work?”
“Take her to the nearest hospital. I know that’s going to be tough given your job circumstances, but you cannot save her life just to risk it again with a bad attack.”
Amidst the sudden rush of groans, Logan raised his voice. “We’ll figure that out if we come to it. I’ll work on a contingency with Schaffer. Les, time for your sleep shift. Charlie, Jack, stay here with Doctor Connors and practice preparing a treatment until you have it down.”
“Where are you going?” Jack asked.
“I need to check in with the other team.” He flicked his gaze in Allie’s direction. “Doctor Connors, can I see you in the hallway for a moment?”
She gave a slight nod and led the way into the hall.
“Schaffer said you’re going shopping later,” Logan said once they were outside.
“I’ll get both Sara and Mary enough clothes and things to last two weeks.”
“The report said Sara runs every morning.”
“I’ll make sure to get her something to run in.”
“Did he give you a budget?”
“Open.”
Logan raised his eyebrows. “Open? Lucky you. I never get an open budget.”
“They are used to the finer things in life.” Her eyes combed over his face. “But you didn’t bring me out here to talk about my budget.”
“No, I didn’t. These inhalers, the nebulizer, and EpiPens that you’re giving us for Sara. I need an extra set of everything and I don’t want you to tell anyone about it.”
Her face scrunched up and eyes narrowed. “I have to clear all expenses with Schaffer.”
“That’s fine, just no one else. Can you do that for me?”
“Of course. I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me why.”
Logan pressed his lips together and smiled.
“Can you at least tell me if everything is okay?”
He didn’t respond. He couldn’t without lying.
She touched his arm. “I’m worried about you. I know this has to be hard. Saving the daughter of Hugh Langston.”
“She’s not responsible for what her father did. She deserves to be saved just as much as the next person.” As long as Sara’s not setting us up, he thought.
“Be careful, Gabe. Please.”
Her use of his first name struck him with how deep her concern was for him. He’d only ev
er heard her say it in bed. “I will be,” he said. “I will be.”
Chapter Twelve
Everything laid out across his bed, Logan packed his go-bag, mentally checking off items on his list. He had packed the same go-bag for every job since his first job with The Boys Club, when Schaffer instilled in him the importance of having one. Though the safe house had personal hygiene items and plenty of clothes for just about every size man, Logan still believed in his go-bag. He never knew what might happen.
A pair of jeans, a T-shirt, two pairs of boxers, and two pairs of socks went in first. A thin blanket and a roll of toilet paper followed. Flashlight with extra batteries. A lighter and a box of matches. A small first aid kit. Paracord and hunting knife. His trusty Smith & Wesson M&P nine millimeter and extra clips. Two bottles of water and a handful of granola bars. A small bag of cash. The list continued until his bag was almost full.
In the front zipper, he added the final two items on his list: the last picture of Karen he ever took and his wedding ring. He had stopped wearing it almost a year ago, but still carried it on his jobs as a good luck charm.
He ran his hand over his freshly shaven head several times and thought about his list to make sure he didn’t miss anything. It had been a long night of planning with only four hours of sleep starting at 2 a.m. Now only an eight hour drive away from kidnapping Sara Langston, Logan’s nerves were on high alert and his mind overanalyzed everything, right down to if he missed something in his go-bag.
He had balked at the suggestion of shaving his head down to a quarter inch of hair, but after they decided late last night that Carlos would take his place as the driver of the car service vehicle when Logan got into the other car with his team and Sara, he had little choice. Though half-Mexican, Carlos looked most similar to Logan out of all the men in The Boys Club. Unfortunately for Logan, Carlos also regularly shaved his head. Logan agreed to go down to a fourth of an inch to get a better match, but not completely bald. Anyone following the car service vehicle wouldn’t be able to tell the difference under the hat they had to wear with the suit.
His bedroom door opened. He turned to greet Allie as she closed the door.
Allie shook her head. “Just when I thought you couldn’t get any more handsome, you have to go and shave your head.”
“That’s not what we were going for, but thanks. Carlos is taking over for me in the car when we take Sara and Mary.”
“You need a lot more of a tan to look like Carlos, but not a bad match. Where’s your suit?”
“I’ll change into it when we get there. Don’t want to get all wrinkled on the drive.”
Allie grinned. “You mean you don’t want to be uncomfortable in a suit longer than you have to.”
“That, too.” He gestured to the nebulizer and a small bag in her hands. “Are those for me?”
“They are,” she said, handing them over. “Duplicates of everything that I officially gave to Jack a few minutes ago. Schaffer is the only one who knows about this. The teams already have the suitcases for Sara and Mary as well.”
He packed the items in his bag and zipped it up. “I appreciate it, Allie.”
“That bag also has some bandages for your hip and some scissors if you can’t make it back for me to take out the stitches. I know I won’t be able to get you to wear your sling, so I’m not even going to try.”
Logan heaved his go-bag over his right shoulder. “Can’t let anyone know I have a weakness.”
“No, you sure can’t.”
Considering the meaning of her words, he followed her out of the room to the elevators. The only two people he’d ever let in were Schaffer and Karen. Despite his close friendship with Jack, he couldn’t open up in the way he should, no matter how much Jack opened up to him. However hard she tried to get in, Allie only saw his external wounds, though she knew of the internal ones.
They rode up the elevator in an uncomfortable silence. With the numerous things he wanted to tell her, he couldn’t say anything. Allie wouldn’t understand the incredible pain that Karen’s death still caused him after two years. That pain swelled in his chest now, just from thinking her name. Allie knew nothing of his life as a juvenile, running away from foster parents that ranged from mediocre to horrific. How he tried to keep food in his stomach by starting with pickpocketing and working his way up to burglary. He could not carry his burdens on his own, but he wouldn’t dare ask another to help him with the load.
The elevator doors slid open and he gestured for Allie to exit first. Stepping out of the elevator, barreling into a situation that held little possibility for a positive outcome, Logan turned his thoughts to the job ahead.
They walked into the chapel, where the rest of his team and the other teams waited. Allie moved up to the front of the room and Logan took a seat in the front row. Schaffer eyed them both, as if searching for signs they had broken his decree.
“Now that we’re all here,” Schaffer said, “let’s make sure everything’s in place. Logan, run down the job one last time for us.”
Logan rose from his seat and stood next to Schaffer. “The teams assigned to Sara and Mary will both leave here and drive to our previously designated meeting place where the car service vehicle will be waiting. I’ll drive that to the wedding planner’s office, while the other teams get into position. I’ll make sure Mary sits on the passenger side and Sara on the driver’s side. Those who are assigned to creating the diversion will make sure there is an accident involving her security detail.”
Jack’s hand shot up. “We got some good news in that regard. Sara slipped her detail yesterday on her morning run and Mathers fired them both. She now has two new security men who are unfamiliar with her.”
Logan tilted his head. Why would she pull a stunt like that? The actions made no sense for a privileged girl. Maybe she wasn’t as tied to her father or money as he originally thought. Maybe she was more… normal.
“That is surprisingly good news,” he said to the group. “It could also be bad news. Apparently she’s resourceful and thinks fast on her feet. We’ll have to watch her closely so she doesn’t slip away from us.
“Once I pass the accident, I’ll get to the exchange spot as quickly as possible. I’ll pull up, Jack and Tuck will administer the sedatives, and we’ll put them in their respective cars. Carlos will take over driving for me and we’ll head out to the safe houses. The team here will maintain communications with both teams every hour as well as monitor and disseminate any new intel. Are there any questions?”
His eyes flitted about the room, from team member to team member, but saw no uncertainty in their faces. “What about medical? Any questions about that?”
Again, no one responded.
“Boys,” Schaffer said, stepping up next to Logan, “I cannot stress how important this job is. We must execute it precisely and I trust you will. Thank you.”
The teams filed into the center aisle and headed toward the front door. Logan gave a backward glance at Schaffer and Allie, who now stood next to him, and nodded at them as an affirmation that everything would go smoothly. He wished he believed it.
Chapter Thirteen
Sara and Mary couldn’t stop laughing as they left the wedding planner’s office. Everything still seemed like such a mess, but Sara had to trust it would all work out in the end. The wedding had put an incomparable amount of stress on her shoulders. There was nothing to do but laugh it all away.
“I still can’t believe she booked an accordion player for the wedding instead of a harpist,” Mary said.
“I don’t even want a harpist,” Sara said.
“But Stephen thinks it’s ‘proper’ for the occasion,” Mary finished for her.
“Whatever that means.”
“You’re the one running around getting everything in order and Stephen is just telling you what to do. Again. Is there anything in this wedding that belongs to you? Something you picked out that you would like?”
As they walked down the two flight
s of stairs in front of the building, Sara thought about every aspect of the wedding, from the harpist to the cake to the location, even the date. “I picked out nothing. He shot down my suggestions in the beginning, so I stopped making them.”
“What would you change if you could?”
The corners of Sara’s mouth turned up and she stared into the dusk of the evening sky. “We’d elope,” she said. “No fancy wedding, no show of money and prestige. Just me and him and a couple close friends to sign as witnesses.”
“And of course I’d be one of those close friends.”
“Well, I was thinking about asking Heather, but now that you mention it, you might be better suited for the job.”
Mary smacked her arm and they laughed again. As a black car pulled up to the curb in front of them, all humor left Sara’s bones. Time for the rehearsal at her father’s estate, followed by a boring rehearsal dinner that she wished she could get out of attending.
“Do you know this driver?” Mary asked.
“Not that I’m aware of.” Her father had her normal driver drop her and Mary at the wedding planner’s office before rushing off to the airport to pick up guests.
The new driver exited the car and Sara didn’t have to look at Mary to know her eyes were wide with lust. Mary’s hand poking Sara’s leg told her that.
“Do you see that?” Mary asked in between clenched teeth. “You need to hire him full time.”
Sara had to admit the new driver was quite attractive. Her teeth raked over her bottom lip as he approached. He greeted them in a professional manner and ushered Mary into the car. Shutting the door, he coaxed Sara to the driver’s side and opened the door for her there. Though her other drivers always let them get in through the same door, Sara didn’t complain. She was too busy stifling her rampant thoughts.
When he shut the door, Sara turned to Mary, whose large eyes and smile said she had the same thoughts running through her mind. Words failed them both as the driver climbed into the driver’s seat. Looking at Sara in the rearview mirror, he confirmed her father’s address as their destination. Sara then rolled up the window between them and the driver.
