“Time to spill.” Avery sits forward between the seats and I chastise her for not wearing a seat belt. She grumbles, clicking it into place and sticks her tongue out at me. “Okay now, why are we paying the price if you’re alive?”
“I’ve been in witness protection,” she huffs as if that explains everything, too focused on winding through a confusing network of roads. I share a look with Avery in the rear-view mirror and we hold our questions until Sydney takes the turning for the freeway. The second she pulls into a free lane of straight, open road, we both order her to give us every detail possible.
“I’m sorry you all got dragged into this, but you know what my father is like. You won’t believe the things he did to me as a child, what he made me do. When I turned eighteen, he announced he would be searching for a husband on my behalf to continue his legacy. I thought he may have forgotten since a whole year went by but then one day, a sleezy man three times my age arrived at the door, his suit slicker than his thoroughly oiled, thinning hair. So, I fled.”
A yellow Mercedes pulls up beside us, honking its horn loudly and swerving to grab our attention. In the driver’s seat, a seriously pissed looking Dax is screaming through the window and waving his fist at Avery in the backseat, who is pouting and batting her eyelashes at him. I can’t help the snigger that leaves me until my eyes land on a dozy Garrett beside him. He’s holding the back of his head, blood colouring his fingers as his eyes close and jolt back open a few times. I frown, wondering how many people are going to suffer before this is finished. It’s not like I asked them to come but still feel guilty my need to have Wyatt back is putting others in danger.
“Ignore them, please continue.” Avery waves her hand as the Mercedes falls back and pulls into the lane to trail us.
“Hang on Sid,” I put my hand up as she opens her mouth, twisting in my seat to glare at my twin. “How long have you been in love with Dax for?” Avery half chokes and splutters but I narrow my eyes on her, mentally telling her to cut the bullshit. She sighs and looks away, a rosy pink colour rising to her cheeks. I know Avery better than she knows herself but even she must be aware of the way she’s overly deflecting him. Her seemingly innocent flirting is more than she’s ever given anyone else, not wanting to give the wrong impression which means he’s managed to crawl beneath her skin.
“Maybe since the campfire. Who knows anymore? But it doesn’t matter, I’m not loveable.” She sighs dramatically, her hands slapping against her thighs. Avery is one of the toughest nuts to crack, but once someone nudges through a crevice into her heart, she can’t shove them back out and close the door like she wishes she could.
“Well I love you, so clearly that’s incorrect.”
“You either love a psychopath or have some serious Stockholm syndrome going on so I don’t trust your judgement right now.” My eyebrows knit together, wanting to jump to Wyatt’s defence but knowing there’s no point. He has to mend the relationships he’s torn to shreds, provided we manage to save him in time to do so.
“You don’t know him like I do,” I mutter, facing forward. “We’ve heard most of the story from Nixon but please continue,” I gesture to Sydney who has been silently looking between us.
“So yeah, I ran away and found Nixon. He wasn’t the successful man I’ve seen on the news back then, but he and Cathy were so down to earth and accepting. It was naïve of me to think I could escape my father so easily, but it was going so well until it wasn’t. I don’t remember the pain, but I remember hearing the gunshot and then the lights fading out around Nixon’s silhouette. Next thing I know, I’m jolted awake by a defibrillator with a paramedic flashing a light in my eyes. Then the pain began.” Sydney indicates to exit the freeway and veers onto a ramp with the guys following right behind.
“I gave a fake name at the hospital until the police arrived, but my father has so many cops working for him I had to be careful with who I could trust. Clearly, I chose well, I’ve been living under an alias for twenty years now.”
“But how did you find out about us?” Avery asks.
“By mistake really. I snuck into Cathy’s funeral, needing to pay my respects and guess who I saw hunched over the buffet table, filling their arms with canapes and champagne bottles? I knew Cathy before she became famous enough to have her hair and make-up professionally done each morning, and you two are clones of her. After that, I started to keep a watchful eye just in case. My father doesn’t let go of a grudge, trust me.”
We sit quietly for a while, Avery and I absorbing the overload of information. This changes everything. Maybe if Perelli sees his daughter alive and well, he’ll let Wyatt go. But I already know that won’t work and probably put Sydney in the danger she’s be hiding from all this time. I’ve been staring at the passing landscapes on a narrower road for so long, I don’t realise there’s a black sedan directly in front until
