Fucking hell!
I started screaming, my cries muffled by the duct tape and tried to get my hand out of the handcuff. Javier walked to the door, tossing me one last look over his shoulder before he stepped out into the kitchen and disappeared. I stopped struggling and listened, heard Javier going up the stairs and then heard Camden yelling, just once, a swear, like “You fuck”, something raw and primal, pure rage, and I could only imagine what Javier was telling him, that he did stuff to me.
Tears started flowing down my face, my heart being swallowed by my chest. I heard someone being dragged down the stairs, the low voices of Javier and someone else. Then the front door slammed. A car started down the street and then was gone.
My man was gone.
And I was alone.
I hadn’t kept him safe.
I allowed myself to cry for Camden for one full minute, counting down from sixty through the tears, trying to keep breathing properly through my nose. When I hit zero, I got to my feet. I looked around the garage and began to think.
There was the hammer and tools that had been knocked over earlier, only a few feet from the farthest reach of my feet. Maybe I could either hammer off the door handle on the Cooper or hammer my handcuff. But getting to the hammer was a problem.
I took in a deep breath and a tried to wrap both hands around the door handle. I tried to pull the Mini Cooper toward the hammer and struggled stupidly. Of course I couldn’t drag it on my own, it weighed like 2,000 lbs.
But if it were placed in neutral …
I took off the robe and wrapped part of it around my free elbow. Then I took a step back as far as I could go, steadied my aim and brought my elbow down into the passenger window with one sharp jab. Glass shattered everywhere and I knew my arm was bleeding even with the thick robe’s protection but at least the window was broken. I quickly used the robe to wipe away the rest of the glass fragments, then draped it over the edge of the door to protect myself when I reached over and popped the car into neutral. Then I wrapped my shoulder in the extra fabric and began to push the car forward, the pressure of my whole body on the door frame.
The Cooper slowly inched forward until the fender was pushing aside the fallen shelves. I was finally close enough. I stretched my bad leg out since it could reach the furthest and pulled the hammer toward me. I let out a giddy little cry once I was able to pick it up in my hands. I had a few jabs at the handcuff but kept missing and nearly getting my hand, so I went for the door handle instead. Turns out, BMW does not construct door handles to withstand blows from a hammer and after the tenth blow, the metal clanged loose to the ground and I was free.
Free.
With no fucking idea of what to do next.
Javier had Camden and was going to do an exchange with the Madano brothers. I had no idea what would happen to Camden after that. But I had a feeling I knew someone who would.
I quickly raced upstairs as fast as I could with my leg, threw on a pair of jeans, my special boots and a tight tee-shirt then pulled all the guns we had out of the closet. I stuck a revolver in my boots with my knife, then grabbed a pistol with a silencer and stuck that down the back of my jeans. I went downstairs and grabbed the note pad I’d been writing in, ripping off the top sheet, the one with Sophia’s address on it, then ripped out another and scribbled in giant letters a note for Gus, leaving it right on the kitchen table.
Go Get Ben! It said.
I didn’t want Gus coming after us or involving himself. But with what I was about to do, Ben needed to be kept safe and I didn’t have time to do it. I had to go after Camden. He may have been Javier’s priority but he was also mine.
I only hoped it wasn’t too late.
I scampered back into the garage, opened the garage door, and revved the battered Mini Cooper. I peeled backward out of the building and ripped down the street.
Heading to Pasadena.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
I pulled the car up to Sophia’s house just before dawn was breaking, face raw and ragged from the wind that blasted through the broken window, my knuckles sore from the sweaty grip on the steering wheel. I prayed that Ben and her both knew how to sleep in because I wanted as little struggle as possible.
The fact that I was about to do this was nuts.