Gray felt sick to his stomach. The two who emerged reminded him too much of Milo. Only, they were even younger. Twelve? Thirteen? Two scrawny kids who had to be related. Maybe even twins.
Gavin flicked Gray an uncertain glance. “It’s okay, right? They panic in small spaces.”
Gray had to swallow his nausea. “Of course.” He nodded.
Dante took over next. He repeated the instructions to Gavin and handed him a burner.
“There’s only one number, and it goes straight to me.” Dante held up another burner. “If you freak out or get scared or need reassurance, just call me on here.”
Gavin nodded and accepted the phone. “I’ve been to Barstow before. I can do it.”
He was the Cole of the group, Gray thought. Or a Gray, or a Niko, or a Jonas.
Gray took a couple steps back, joining Ryan and Niko in the background, and they watched as Gavin climbed up into the truck. Dante gave the kids a few last words, reminding them that they’d get out in a little over two hours. They were driving directly to a hospital, no one was going to hurt them, they were free.
They were free.
One hour later, they repeated the entire process at another location. Dante and Ryan wiped down any surface of their second truck that could have any fingerprints, and Gray and Niko released nine young women from a small storage unit north of Vegas. It was too close to Nellis Air Force Base for their comfort, even more so with the sun touching the horizon, but it had to be done.
None of the girls could drive a truck, but one of them said her dad was a long-haul trucker, and she’d “seen him drive a lot.” So they found a compromise. Putting some distance between them and any stray Lange associates—not to mention the rescue operation—was important in order to delay investigative work, and Dante claimed they had time. He volunteered to drive them out of town, and once it was all open roads, the girl, Mira, would take over and drive to the nearest truck stop, where she could call the authorities.
Gray was behind the wheel of the smaller truck, and he stayed close on the road, constantly watching the rising sun, the clock, and the rearview. People were on the way to work.
“We’re sure the trucks can’t be traced back to us?” Niko asked from the back seat.
Ryan rolled down the window next to Gray and lit up a smoke. “Boone made sure they were unregistered. We’ll square it with him later.” Next, he reached over the center console and put a hand on Gray’s leg. “Breathe, Gray. Seriously. No one has any reason whatsoever to suspect anything. If we got pulled over now, the only thing that would raise suspicion is that you look like you just murdered someone.”
Gray drew in a deep breath and made an effort to stop tapping, drumming, and looking over his shoulder.
“Technically, I have,” he answered.
“Those scumbags don’t count.” Ryan blew smoke out the window and nodded toward the truck ahead of them. The turn signal flashed. “They’re turning.”
Gray checked the rearview and turned too. It was a diner that hadn’t opened yet. But it was easy to turn in and out of the parking lot, which was all that mattered for the girl who was about to take over for Dante.
“We should be done by now,” Gray muttered.
“Mm.” Ryan nodded slowly, having nothing else to say. It didn’t matter. Everyone knew that plans changed multiple times, and you just had to deal with it.
Gray pulled over a few yards away, noticing that Dante was positioning the semitruck so that the girl wouldn’t have to back out or do anything advanced. Dante even walked out to the exit and waved her forward when no one was around. He kept waving and gesturing, and the girl slowly but surely made it out onto the road.
They’d made it. This far, anyway.
Gray let out a breath as the semi drove away, and Dante scrubbed his hands over his face. It kicked Gray into motion, and he pulled away from the curb outside the diner again.
Dante jumped in next to Niko as soon as Gray stopped at the exit.
“She’ll make it,” was Dante’s verdict. “Strong girl, that one.”
Gray would allow himself to feel the relief once he and the others were out of sight. He made the turn to head back toward the compound, and he checked in with Willow on the way.
“Everyone’s up and running again,” she reported. “That includes Darius. Feel free to tear him a new one from me.”
That stubborn motherfucker. “What’s he doing?”
“Well, Reese lost his temper and shot Alfred in the head because he refused to cooperate,” she revealed wryly. Ryan chuckled. “They were gonna write down addresses and whatever? Yeah, he wouldn’t do it once he heard the conditions—with AJ giving the same information in another room or whatever. So yeah, Reese shot him, and it woke up Darius. Everyone went down there, Darius took over the interrogation of AJ, River’s handling Friedrich, and Tariq is searching for anything that’s flammable in the compound.”