Mentally apologizing to Cassidy, Gramps slowly dragged her to a chair nearby. He heaved her into it, then leaned over and put his shoulder to her stomach, carefully picking her up.
He wove slightly on his feet. After drinking so much rum, he definitely wasn’t in any shape to be defending himself or Cassidy. He prayed that Lloyd would heed Coke’s order. Because it was time to leave here once and for all.
Not bothering to look back at the man who’d caused Cassidy so much pain, Gramps headed for the door. He opened it, and as expected, Lloyd appeared out of nowhere. The man kept very close tabs on his boss, which might’ve been admirable if he wasn’t such an asshole.
“Looksh like we’re done for the night,” Gramps purposely slurred.
Lloyd sneered at him in disgust, then peered behind Gramps into the office.
Tensing, Gramps prepared to fight the other man to the death, a rush of adrenaline sobering him slightly. But Lloyd simply shut the office door, leaving what he thought was his passed-out boss to his drunken stupor.
Nodding at the man, Gramps headed for the door.
He shouldn’t be driving, but that couldn’t be helped right now. His goal was to get Cassidy out of the house. Lloyd followed, and when Gramps struggled with the front door, he sighed and leaned past him to open it.
“Thanksh,” Gramps said.
“She must’ve been a hell of a good fuck,” Lloyd muttered.
Gramps really wanted to beat the shit out of him. But, playing his role, he merely smiled. “Best I ever had,” he declared loudly, then stepped out of the house. He held his breath as he stumbled exaggeratingly down the walkway. He passed a few men on the security force, but no one tried to stop him. No one made a move to prevent him from taking Cassidy.
Thankful he’d had the foresight to have Coke tell Lloyd that Cassidy was his, Gramps walked unmolested toward the black sedan he’d arrived in the evening before.
He opened the trunk, mentally apologizing to Cassidy yet again and promising to make it up to her, then rolled her in. His only consolation was that she wouldn’t remember being thrown into the trunk as if she were nothing more than a sack of potatoes.
He nodded at Lloyd and the other men watching, then climbed behind the wheel and pulled out of the gates, which had been opened for him.
This time, no one followed. Now that he’d concluded his business with Coke, he was free to go where he wanted and do whatever he pleased. He wasn’t their concern any longer.
Driving as carefully as he could and praying he didn’t get pulled over by the police—it wouldn’t be good to get stopped while driving drunk, with a drugged woman in the trunk—Gramps headed for the meeting place he and Silverstone had worked out in advance.
Turning into the alley, Gramps cut the engine and waited. No one drove by. No one came up behind him. It seemed as if he’d pulled it off. Poisoned Coke right under his security guards’ noses and stolen Cassidy in the process.
A knock on the door startled Gramps so badly, he physically jerked to the side. “Fuck,” he muttered as he opened the door.
“Losing your touch, Gramps?” Eagle asked.
“Fuck you.”
Eagle’s eyes widened. “Shit. You had to drink a lot more than we planned, didn’t you?”
Gramps nodded. “I had to make things seem laid back and normal. Knew Lloyd was lurking nearby, and if I’d left ten minutes after we’d made our deal, he would’ve been suspicious. Tell me you have the boy,” he asked as he moved to the trunk.
“Smoke’s got him,” Eagle confirmed.
Gramps closed his eyes for a second. “Thank God,” he breathed. “If he was actually still inside that house, it wouldn’t have been good.”
“I take it our plan worked?” Eagle asked as he reached for Cassidy.
Gramps pushed him aside and gently lifted the bravest woman he’d ever known from the trunk. He cradled her carefully, one arm under her knees and the other around her back. This was probably going to be the last time she allowed him anywhere near her, and he wanted to savor it.
“It worked,” Gramps told his friend as they headed for a second black sedan parked on the street, close to the alley entrance. Eagle held open the back door, and Gramps quickly got inside, Cassidy still in his arms.
In less than a minute, they were moving.
“Bull’s behind us, watching for anyone who might be tailing, and Smoke’s with Mario at the airport. How long do you think we have before they find Coke?” Eagle asked.
Gramps couldn’t take his eyes off Cassidy’s face. She looked calm and relaxed, but the second she remembered—or was told—that he’d been the one to drug her, she’d probably not want anything to do with him. He was disgusted with himself. He hadn’t had a choice, but that didn’t change what he’d done.
“I’m not sure. I have no idea if they’ll risk waking him up to get him to his bed, or if they’ll just leave him there until morning,” Gramps said.
“Here’s to hoping they wait. The last thing we need is someone trying to stop our flight from leaving,” Eagle muttered.
Gramps nodded. Eagle wasn’t telling him anything he didn’t already know.
The plan had been for Smoke to grab Mario and get him to safety. Then Gramps would slip the poison into Coke’s drink and sneak Cassidy out of the house when Bull set off an explosive in the back, diverting everyone’s attention. But with the team listening, they’d been able to roll with the punches and stay on top of the situation as it had changed. Everything had fallen into place almost perfectly, even if it hadn’t happened exactly how they’d planned.
The private plane Willis, their FBI contact, had arranged for them was waiting at the airport, and they were leaving the country as soon as possible. Once Lloyd and the security force found Coke dead on his couch, shit was going to hit the fan, and Silverstone wanted to be as far away as they could when it happened.
Even if Lloyd didn’t have his hands full with trying to keep the organization running, he wouldn’t find “G” in Dallas if he looked. His cover had been fabricated by the FBI and the DEA. As soon as the wheels of the plane left the ground, they were all safe.
Gramps closed his eyes and willed the world to stop spinning. He needed to be clearheaded to make sure Mario didn’t lose it when he saw his unconscious mother. He had to be sober to explain what he’d done to Cassidy. But he wasn’t sure how he was going to do that. Drugging her had been the only option at the time . . . and it had been in her and Mario’s best interests . . . but still, he wasn’t sure she’d see it that way.
Even if she did, Gramps would have a hard time forgiving himself.
Sighing, Gramps pressed his forehead to her temple and breathed out a sigh of relief that it was almost over. Silverstone had taken out one more evil man and rescued two innocents in the process. That would have to be enough, no matter what happened when Cassidy woke up.
Chapter Seven
Cassidy’s head hurt. She opened her eyes and winced at the bright light.
“Mama?”
Hearing Mario’s worried voice brought her out of her confused state faster than anything else might’ve. She opened her eyes wider and saw Mario hovering over her.
“Are you okay?”