Fighting to Be Free (Fighting to Be Free 1) - Page 90


“No thank you, Sir. We’ve got everything under control,” he assured me.

My mind was whirling with what needed to happen now. I needed to get the hell away from here and call Brett and tell him about what had happened. He’d call around until he found Terry in hospital, then, depending on how much he liked him, he’d either order a hit on him so that he couldn’t incriminate everyone else, or he’d get him a damn good lawyer and get him out of there within a couple of days. It depended on how much Brett trusted Terry to go down without taking everyone else down with him.

“Well, I’d better let you get back to it,” I suggested, forcing a smile.

He stepped back, patting on the frame of the door. “You have a good night, Sir.” I nodded and put the car into drive, turning slowly, not wanting to draw attention to myself. I drove down the road, knowing that Brett was going to go crazy when I told him. Why did this have to happen tonight? We were home free now, just Terry’s car and then mine and we would have been finished. Why did this have to happen to Terry too, he was experienced with this type of thing, sure he wasn’t that good at the actual boost but he didn’t take risks with the car, he drove at the right speed, stopped at stop lights. This was a f**king nightmare.

I didn’t stop as I pulled out my cell phone, calling Brett’s number, my eyes flicking in my rear-view mirror every couple of seconds to make sure I wasn’t being followed. Brett answered almost immediately. “Alright, Kid? Nearly back?”

I took a deep breath before I spoke. “Slight problem,” I admitted. “Terry’s been in a wreck, the car’s totalled and he’s on his way to the hospital in an ambulance.”

I winced as the string of expletives that he let rip, rang in my ears. After a full thirty seconds of shouting words that would make Ellie blush that adorable shade of red, he finally calmed down enough to talk to me. “Where are you?”

“On my way back. I have the Aston, do you want me to come to the warehouse, or are you gonna have the transporter meet me somewhere else just in case?” I asked, not wanting to lead the police back to Brett in case they were following me.

He sighed. “I’ll have them come to you. Go to the secondary location and someone will be there to meet you and take the car off of your hands,” he agreed. “Kid, you think Terry will keep his mouth shut?” he asked suddenly.

I sighed and shrugged, I honestly didn’t know the answer to that question. “You know him better than me, Brett.”

He was silent for a minute, obviously thinking through his two options. I kept my eyes on the road, turning off and heading out of town to our prearranged secondary exchange point. We always had a back-up plan in case things like this happened; the warehouse was out of bounds when there was any type of heat around. The streets were still deserted; it was almost four in the morning. Terry was so unlucky to have been hit by someone at this time of night; they were probably the only two people on the road or something.

“Alright, look, just go to the second drop-off point and I’ll have someone meet you there. Call me when you get there,” he stated, disconnecting the call, he probably had more important people to talk to than me - like either the hit man for Terry, or his lawyer.

I headed out of town. Pulling up at the field where we usually convened if something went wrong.

I’d only been to this place once before when a boost had gone wrong. Turning off the engine, I sat there in the dark, praying that this didn’t come back on me. This was just my luck, I was going straight and now Terry was probably going to drop me in it again. Something like this would breech my parole; I would be back inside for even being connected to this probably.

I called Brett. “Hey, I’m here,” I muttered.

“Good. They’ll be there soon. Ray’s bringing your truck. Kid, I’m gonna get Terry a lawyer and everything will be fine. He’s a loyal worker, I have every faith that it’ll go smoothly. I have people inside, he’ll be out quickly. But just in case, you need to get yourself an alibi. Something strong.

Make sure it’s not connected to work or me in anyway. Call that hot little girl of yours that you’re always bragging about.”

I gulped as dread settled in the pit of my stomach. Ellie. I was going to have to bring Ellie into this?

“Seriously? Can’t you fit me up with an alibi or something?” I asked hopefully.

He sighed. “You know how this works, Kid. Just get yourself an alibi and lay low for a couple of days. I’ll sort everything but the further you stay away from everyone here, the better for you. You need to think of your parole right now, okay?”

My jaw tightened. I knew he was right but I hated the thought of Ellie being anywhere near anything illegal - but I had no one else. My life sucked, it really was pathetic.

I slammed my forehead down on the steering wheel and closed my eyes, running through everyone that was in my life to see if they could give me an alibi instead of Ellie. I even debated on going to my mother for help, but she wouldn’t help me anyway, she had no compassion or sense of loyalty.

Ten minutes later, a transporter truck pulled in to the field. I sat in the car until it stopped in front of me, a guy jumping out and letting down the tail ramp so I could drive it on. When the car was settled inside I hopped out, leaving the keys in the ignition and trudged out. I was kind of hoping for a meteor to fall from the sky and blast me into oblivion at that moment, which would definitely be preferable to having to tell Ellie the truth and beg for her help.

Tags: Kirsty Moseley Fighting to Be Free Romance
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