Page 103 of Weston’s Treasure

“Good, you’re on your way. And you followed instructions. New plan. Head to BWI.”

“The airport?”

“Yes. You have two hours.”

“Why?”

Not that it mattered why. Nothing mattered anymore. Travis was threatening to kill my dad. I’d offered myself up in exchange. Weston would be so furious with me he’d never forgive me—that was, if I lived through whatever Travis had planned.

“Why the airport?” It was hard to hear with the wind rushing all around me but I couldn’t miss the impatience in his tone.

“No. Why are you doing this?”

“Because you fucked everything up. And if you’d just come back to work like you were supposed to I wouldn’t’ve had to involve your dad.”

“What?”

“Jesus Christ, for someone who’s so smart, you really are a dumb fuck. You should’ve minded your own goddamned business. Homeland Security? Really?”

Stupidly. Belatedly. Naively it hit me. Gary wasn’t the only one in on it, Travis was, too.

“You’re an asshole,” I told him. “And not just because you kidnapped my dad. But because I liked you, thought you were a good guy when really you’re a piece of shit allowing drugs to be transported down the canal.”

“I’d be careful not to let that mouth of yours run away with you. I’m the asshole who’s holding a gun to your father’s head.”

I fought the urge to close my eyes as tears once again began to fall.

…you’re a maniac.

What kind of daughter said that?

Most of my life my dad had been selfish, but he was still my dad and he didn’t deserve this. My throat clogged hearing about anyone holding a gun to his head.

“Two hours,” Travis barked and the line went dead.

I couldn’t let my dad die. I couldn’t let the last thing I said to him be in anger. I couldn’t do it.

What was I doing?

I was speeding down the highway in Weston’s Jeep making the worst mistake of my life. I knew it. I knew what I was doing but I couldn’t take my foot off the accelerator. I couldn’t stop thinking about how I’d told my dad to leave, all of the horrible stuff I said to him. He loved me, I knew he did.

And Weston, he loved me, too. Thinking about him was like a dagger slicing through my heart.

“What the hell am I doing?” I screamed.

Then suddenly everything hit me. Weston. The baby. The conversation from three days ago playing in my mind.

Total devastation when their women disappeared. The kind of devastation you don’t come back from, and mark this, Silver, neither of them would’ve if the outcome had been different.

I am far from stupid, I’ve learned. And what I’ve learned is to protect what’s mine.

Then I remembered what he’d said to me last night after he made love to me sweetly, kissing my throat, my neck, telling me he loved me.

Hope our kid gets your pretty eyes, baby.

I realized I couldn’t do it. My foot eased onto the brake and I slowed down and reached for my phone.

“On our way, Nix is driving—”