"Okay." She smiled and touched her finger to her bottom lip as though she could still feel our kiss. It was still cracked from Enrique hitting her, but it didn't look as bad now that it was cleaned up.
"Make sure you have the number up and ready to hit the call button," I stated as I opened the door.
She waved the cheap phone. "Already ready."
I closed the door and walked to the back of the van to pull out the gas can. I needed to hurry. I knew I couldn't set the steel building on fire from the outside, so I took a deep breath, entered the code to get into the building, and walked inside. I didn't see anyone, and the cages were empty. I took a few pictures of the cages in case my plan worked and I needed evidence one day.
Uncapping the plastic container, I hurried to my father's office, knowing that was my best bet to start the fire. It had paper to catch fire, unlike the concrete floor and metal walls of the building. Maybe trying to set the warehouse on fire wasn't such a good idea, but it was the only thing I could think of to do.
I paused before pouring the gas. Starting a fire in my father's office would destroy all evidence of his operation. But I had to do something. I had to at least try to cause a diversion. So, I took a few quick pictures of everything sitting on my father's desk before I poured the gasoline all over the office, struck the matchstick with the matchbook, and then threw the orange flame onto a pile of papers on the desk and left, leaving the gas can behind.
I ran out of there, opening the door on a bang and sprinted for the van. "No one came?" I asked as I got inside.
"No, I didn't see anyone."
"Good. Let's go."
I cranked the engine and sped off.
As I drove toward my father's club, my nervousness tripled. Setting the warehouse on fire seemed like a good plan in my head, but the execution probably wouldn't get the entire job done since it was a steel building. My confidence was slipping.
I was no master criminal.
I was no evil genius.
And I was no knight in shining armor.
I wanted to go into the club and rescue the girls as we had planned, but what if that turned to shit too? What if my father had no clue that the warehouse was on fire and he stayed at the club to handle the auction? What if Zell and I walked in through the back door of the place, and I was face to face with him? What the fuck would happen? Would he kill me? Would he hesitate before killing Zell? Knowing that she wasn't Madam's biological daughter meant he probably didn't care about Zell at all, even if he had some sort of sick relationship with Jackie.
I pulled the van into an alley and parked. "I don't think I can do this."
"Why?" Zell questioned.
"I feel like it's a lost cause."
"Why?" she asked again.
"Because I suck at starting fires apparently, and I don't think the diversion will work now."
"Then what do we need to do?"
"Let's just leave town again," I suggested. "I have money now. We can do that plan."
"What about my friends at the penthouse? We have to help them."
I sighed and leaned my head against the headrest. What the fuck should I do? Ironically enough, my father would know what to do. He had a no holds barred mentality and would probably go in guns blazing with his men. But I didn't have men. I had my girl, and my number one priority was keeping her safe.
"Fuck, I don't know, princess."
"What if we just go to the penthouse and free them?" Zell suggested.
"And how do you think we can do that when I couldn't do that for you?"
"You have a gun now. Just use that."
I grunted. "You think I'm some gangster that can just go in—no holds barred—and kill anyone who stands in my way?"
"I don't know what that means, but you said we would save them too, and so we just need to do what you had planned before."
"What I had planned before was to cause a diversion so we could slip in when Madam wasn't there."
"Who cares about her? She's all bark and no bite."
"Really? Then why did it take you so long to run?"
She shrugged. "Because I was scared of her."
"Exactly!"
"But thinking about it, she couldn't have done anything to me if the guards let me leave. She depends on them. Didn't you say you will be the boss? As in their boss?"
"I'm no one's boss," I countered. "I made that decision early this morning when I went on the run with you."
"I'll do it." She held out her hand. "Give me the gun, and I'll go there and shoot anyone who stops me."
"Right." I chuckled. "And how do you plan on getting up there?"
Zell thought for a moment. "I don't know."
"Exactly. We don't know. The only way up is for them to let you up."
"Right."
Then it hit me. "Well, we could slip in with a client."
"How?"
"Or instead of a client," I went on. For my father to make money, I assumed clients came and went multiple times a day.
"How?" she asked again.
"We can wait in the lobby for one to arrive. When they use the monitor to call up to the penthouse, we can wait for them to get the okay. The elevator will come down and"—I shrugged—"I'll take out my gun and force them to let us go up with them."
"Will that work?"
I blew out a breath. "That's the only plan I can think of."
Zell nodded her head slowly. "Then, we need to do that."
Chapter Twenty-Three
Jackie knew right away who the woman was that drove up to the cabin. She had never met her, but she had seen pictures of her over the years when Frank would show Jackie photos of his son. She always thought Quinn Russo looked sad, or maybe not all there in the photographs, but Jackie never asked because she didn't want to show interest.
After all, she was the other woman, essentially.
"Can I help you?" Jackie asked as Quinn got out of her rental car. Jackie gripped the screwdriver in her hand, not sure if she needed it for protection or not. She was trying to fix the door that Frankie had kicked in so it would once again close without needing a chair to keep it shut.
"I … I'm not sure," Quinn stammered.
"Are you lost?" Jackie questioned. She knew that wasn't the case, but she didn't know why Quinn was there. Frankie had told Jackie that his mother had been missing for a month and had left on her own, and now the woman was at the cabin.
"No, I …" Quinn closed the driver's side door but didn't move the few feet to the small porch where Jackie was standing. "I came to help you."
"Help me?" She balked.
"I know my husband has been keeping you here. I've come to get you out."
Jackie crossed her arms over her jacketed chest. "I told Frankie—"
"Frankie? Was my son here?"
"Yes." Jackie nodded. "He left about an hour ago."
"What? How?" Quinn asked. "Did Frank send him?"
"No." Jackie shook her head.