Play Along

“That’s a given. You are my staple diet these days.”

She giggles into her wine glass. I pick up my beer and sip it. We are in the restaurant of the hotel and it’s about 10pm.

“This is a beautiful hotel, isn’t it?” she asks.

“Yes,” I murmur as I look around at our surroundings.

“Stace.”

My eyes flicker back to her.

“Let’s do this. Let’s get away with it.” She widens her eyes hopefully. “We could be so happy together if we can just get out of this mess.”

I smile and pick up her hand across the table. “That’s the plan.” I open my mouth to tell her that I have ordered the hit, but I quickly close it. I don’t want to give her false hope when I’m really not sure if it’s going to happen. She doesn’t need a false sense of security. I know she won’t care about the money I’ve offered if he’s dead, but we will cross that bridge when we get to it… and I sincerely hope we do.

“I was thinking that maybe we should try to get a flight to Vegas from here tomorrow,” I add.

She frowns into her wine glass. “I thought you said we were going to Chile to fly out?”

I nod as I sip my beer. “It’s a long way from here and it means a lot more time on the road and out in the open.”

She bites her thumbnail as she thinks. “You think it’s more dangerous to stay here?”

I nod.

“Can we charter a plane from here?” she asks.

“I did some research tonight while you were in the shower, and I think it will be easier to be picked up if we do that.”

She frowns. “So you think we just catch a commercial flight?”

“I think so.”

“But won’t they be able to find us?”

I shrug. “We will buy the tickets in the airport at the last minute with cash. The international passport website is a lot harder to hack and it may give us some time. I’m assuming, up until this point, they were tracking our credit card.”

“But what if they do track us and are waiting at the other end?”

My eyes hold hers. “It’s a possibility.”

She rubs her forehead with both hands as she thinks. “Stace, I don’t like this.”

I grab her hand over the table. “I know, baby, but it’s going to be harder for them to take you from an international airport than it is from a deserted country road in South America.”

Her eyes rise to meet mine.

“I feel like I need to get you back on American soil.”

“Why?” she whispers.

“I just do. We have no contacts over here and the police don’t know your circumstances. Hell, the police are probably on his payroll. I don’t know the dynamics of this country and it makes me fucking nervous.”

She closes her eyes as she grapples with the concept.

“Do you get where I am coming from?” I ask.

“I suppose.” She sighs as she looks off into the distance.