Page 58 of The Getaway

“And if I don’t get out of here within the next ten minutes, I’m going to have an actual nervous breakdown. Look at my hands.”

She put her hands out in front of her. They were shaking like a tiny house in the middle of this ridiculous storm. Sean took about five seconds to consider his options. But he knew her. He knew she wasn’t bluffing. And the last time Suzy had broken down, it had not been good. Not for her, not for him, and not for the kids.

She pulled Wintour into her lap and stroked her back just to give her stupid quaking fingers something to do.

All Suzy wanted in the world was to be home. She wanted to get her children from camp, get them back in their rooms, eat a huge bowl of pasta, and pass out in her own bed. She wanted to get as far away from these corpses as possible. She wanted to put this insanity behind her and pretend it had never happened.

Even though she knew that was impossible, it seemed possible. If they could just get the hell out of here.

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll get the bags.”

Suzy got Wintour into her designer crate, grabbed her purse, and waited for Sean by the door of their room. She knew they would have to sneak out. Otherwise, Hazel, Marley, or Marshall would definitely try to stop them. At least everyone else had gone back to their respective rooms. Hopefully they’d stay sequestered long enough to get downstairs without anyone noticing.

Leaving was definitely going to make her and Sean look guilty to the group, but she couldn’t make herself care. She needed to get out of here. She needed to get to her children. Then they could figure out what to do next.

Sean emerged from the closet in a sweatshirt with the hood up. He had one bag in one hand and tugged the other by the handle. He held out a huge Home Team Hotels golf umbrella toward her.

“Found it in there,” he said.

She wasn’t sure what it was going to do for them in this wind, but she kept her sarcastic comment to herself. She really was growing. Her underarms prickled, the stress of making this escape causing her to perspire.

“Let’s go,” he whispered.

He opened the door, and they tiptoed down the hall and the stairs and across the wide foyer. The second he opened the door to the outside, one of the bags was ripped out of his hand by the wind. It went bouncing across the pavers and slammed into the wall. Wintour went ballistic, barking like her life depended on it. Sean made a move to go after the bag, but Suzy gripped his arm.

“Leave it! We have to get to the car!”

She was already soaked through, and she had to shout to be heard over the wind and the barking.

Sean nodded, and they kept moving. They latched their arms around each other, Sean clinging to their one remaining bag with his free hand. He had Suzy’s overnight bag slung across his chest, and she was sure everything in it was already so waterlogged it would never recover. When they got to the garage, only one car was parked outside—Lincoln’s luxury SUV.

“It must be in the lot!” Sean shouted.

“Goddamn it!” Suzy could barely stay upright. “Let’s go!”

They started to walk again, but then Suzy’s foot slid out from under her, and she went down hard on her knee. A shock of pain raced up her leg, and she cried out. She dropped Wintour’s crate, and it fell on its side. Wintour started whimpering.

“Are you all right?”

“No! Sonofa! My kneecap.” She turned and sat on her ass on the hard, wet stones. There were tiny rocks embedded in her skin, and she was bleeding. The rain pelted her face so hard it felt more like hail.

“Hang on!”

Sean disappeared for half a second, and then he was back. “Here.”

He put his hands under her arms and yanked her up. She had to put all her weight on one leg to stand. When he turned her around, she saw the passenger-side door of the Porsche hanging open.

“It was unlocked. He always leaves the keys in it.”

Thank God, Suzy thought. “Get the dog.”

Sean grabbed the carrier, and they hobbled over to the SUV. Suzy crashed into the passenger seat and yanked her legs—ow, sonofa—inside. Sean had already tossed the bags in the back seat and now placed Wintour in there along with them. Once behind the wheel he let out a sighing groan and shook himself like a golden retriever. He hit the button to start the car, and they both looked out the windshield at the Armageddon before them.

“So we’re stealing Lincoln’s car?” Suzy said, catching her breath.

“Borrowing.”

“Sounds good to me.” She leaned forward and started picking tiny pebbles out of her raw skin.