Savage Ending (Savage Trilogy 4)

I scowl. “I didn’t blackout. Things just got a little hazy here and there, but never when I actually worked a job. Does he think he’s using my insurance to blackmail someone? Based on that map Asher is looking at, that feels a little too right to be wrong. But for all I know he buried his own insurance.”

“Even if he only thinks he has your insurance,” Asher counters, “you’re attached to this. You’re in this.”

“I’m not fucking in this,” I snap. “Not after I deliver that data drive and then beat Max’s ass.”

“And if he hands over coordinates to nothing to someone?” Asher challenges. “Then what?”

“Then fuck him and his dumb ass. We deliver the data drive. We go to Colorado. I keep my word and pay back the man who saved my life, not once but thrice. Then we go home.”

I dial Max.

He doesn’t answer.

Already Asher is pushing again. “Why didn’t he do a secure internet drop to his buyer?”

“He’s not tech-savvy enough to do it securely,” I reply. “And he’s not operating with a team.”

“I’ll do it for him,” Asher replies. “Then we don’t have the drop-off exposure.”

“Oh sure,” I say dryly. “I’ll tell him he can trust you. I’m sure he’ll agree. Bottom line. I owe him a favor. It’s not my fault if he uses it in a stupid way. Onwards we go.”

And so, we do, for a few long hours on the highway, all of which Max isn’t answering my calls.

A big ass problem since I have an address for the drop-off and nothing more. At two in the morning, Adam parks us a few blocks from the warehouse destination, in a sea of warehouses.

“What do you want to do?” he asks. “You have no instructions.”

“What I’ve always done,” I say. “Bury the prize in a place he’ll only find if I want him to find it.” I open the door and Adam and Asher follow.

The three of us coordinate a scouting mission and it’s not long before we’re in the woods behind the dark warehouse. I pick a tree, dig a hole, and bury the data drive. Then I carve an X in the tree. That’s it. As far as I’m concerned, we’re done.

Fifteen minutes later, the three of us load up in the car, and I dial Max. When he doesn’t answer, I don’t leave a message. I have no idea who might have his phone. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

“I talked to Blake,” Asher says. “He wants us out of here. We have a plane waiting for us about thirty minutes away.”

I don’t argue. Only a stupid fucktard would stay around to get killed. And I take great pride in never being a stupid fucktard. I want us out of here, too.

***

By the time me, Adam, and Asher pull up to the private airstrip for our flight from Nashville to Colorado, I’ve decided that yes, I could have walked away from this. But my gut told me not to for a reason. As much as I’ve tried to deny, the locations listed on that map say I’m a part of this, even if it’s indirectly. And any unknown could be dangerous, and it’s not me I’m worried about.

It’s Candace.

I exit the vehicle and corner Asher. “If there’s a connection to me, I need to know.”

“I’m working on it. So is Blake.”

I give a nod and say, “Thanks, man.”

A few minutes later we all load up on the private jet and do what we’ve been trained to do to be battle-ready. Grab sleep where we can get it. We snooze and eat on the three-hour flight. The plane lands in Denver, where we’re an hour and a half from Estes Park.

Blake, ever the efficient one, and a perfectionist, has a car waiting on us. Once we’re on the road, we hit a truck stop, shower, change, and grab food at the diner attached to the joint. We don’t do any magical planning this time. The food goes down. And then we’re on the highway, tracking our path forward.

It’s then that I dial Candace. She picks up on the first ring. “Tell me you’re coming home.”

“Almost, baby,” I say. “Tomorrow,” I add, hoping like hell I can turn that into tonight. “But I’m in Colorado. We’re going to drop some cash to Max, and be out of here.”

“So there’s been no problem?”

“I’ll tell you all about it when we get home.”

“Oh God,” she whispers. “What happened?”

“Candy, baby—”

“You’re not going to tell me,” she says flatly.

“Not right now,” I confirm. “Later.”

“All right,” she concedes. “You’re alive. That’s what matters. I love you, Rick Savage. Come home to me. I waited a long time to marry you.”

“I love you, too. I’ll call you again if I can. Okay?”

“Yes, okay.” She hesitates and then says, “See you soon.” And then she hangs up.