It helps that this is probably the kind of neighborhood where people mind their business for fear of getting shot.
“You’ve been here all morning. Don’t you think this is pretty risky, considering someone may have gotten your license plates?”
“Nah, I circled the block when I saw them stop and stuck one of my stolen sets on. They’re magnetized, so they just slide right over the real plates and no one’s the wiser. If anyone gets my tags and if the police somehow get involved, they’ll have the plates of an old pedophile that lives in Canton.” He pauses and frowns, nodding. “Actually, it might be a good thing if someone does get the number. I think that bastard needs a little visit from the authorities right about now.”
“So what are you thinking then?”
At the thought of taking action, adrenaline pours into my bloodstream. I feel like I could bench press a damn car!
“You’re not anxious to get in there, are you?” Gavin teases.
I think of Olivia and I grit my teeth. “I can’t wait to get in there and crack some skulls. If they so much as laid a finger on her…”
My heart pounds in my chest as I try and push visions of a brutalized Olivia out of my head.
“You just have to stay calm, Cash. We have to make sure and do this right or bad things could happen.”
I take a deep breath and nod. “I know, I know. I’m not worried about them hurting me. I just want to get her out safely. I don’t give a shit what happens to them, as long as they never come after her again.”
I look at Gavin and he’s shaking his head. “Ever,” he says with finality. It’s not a little thing, what he’s saying. We stare at each other for a tense second or two then I nod in agreement.
“Ever.”
Another gush of adrenaline, possibly mixed with a little fear of what might be ahead. I’m not afraid of the people themselves. Or even really getting Olivia out safely. I will get her out. And I will make sure she’s safe. There is no other option.
It’s the consequences I’m afraid of. I’ve seen up-close and personal what can happen when plans go awry in dealings with people like this. It’s not pretty. It’s ugly! In fact, it’s often ugly to the tune of twenty-five years.
“Then let’s go get this done. Why don’t you drive me around the block and drop me off? Come back and park somewhere else. You go to the front door and I’ll go to the back. I’m sure there’s a back door.”
“You might run into a little something back there. Don’t forget that they’ve probably been warned.”
“They shouldn’t have any idea that I know where they’re at, though.”
“No, but they’ve probably already gotten a call that the plans have changed. They might be getting ready to move her or do…something to her.”
I feel a knot of pure hell lodge in my throat. “Then let’s get in there.”
Gavin starts the Hummer and shifts into gear. “Lift up the back seat. I put a storage space under it. There should be some hats and gloves and face paint. It’s not like going in under the cover of night, but at least we can disguise our features a bit.” I reach back and lift, but the seat won’t budge. “There’s a little lever under the cushion.”
Feeling for the lever, I find it and press it as I lift. The rear cushion folds up to reveal a small storage space. Sure enough, there are a couple hats, gloves and face paint, among all sorts of other needful things.
“My best friend is a guerilla,” I say caustically, taking out what we need.
“You better be glad, too.”
I snap the seat back down into place and turn toward the front. I look at Gavin, he glances at me and I nod. “I am, man. I appreciate it more than you’ll ever know.” Gavin nods, too. I know he knows how sincere I am. It’s there in his expression. It’s kind of like a brotherhood we’re in. We have pasts we’re trying to escape, we’re both willing to go to extreme measures for those we care about, and we’ll both likely meet an early death. That’s a lot for a couple guys to bond over. It’s a tighter friendship than any amount of football or frat parties can make.
I pop off the flat, round lid of the dish of face paint. The content is inky black and looks like shoe polish, only oilier. Flipping down the visor, I quickly rub two fingers through the grease then smear streaks of it on my cheeks. I repeat the action until my features are patchy and less discernible in the mirror.
I shove the ball cap onto my head and pull it low over my eyes then I push my hands into the gloves. Gavin slows to a stop on the street behind the house.