The Bellator Saga: The First Trilogy (Dissident, Conscience, and Sojourn)

by Cecilia London

  Gabe put his arm around her. “We’re gonna get there in one piece. It’ll all work out. You’ll see.”

  “Glass half full kind of guy, are you?”

  He smiled. “Yeah.”

  I used to be like that. She looked down at her hands and gobbled up the words she wanted to say.

  “You’ll be that way again,” he said.

  Damn. He always seemed to know what she was thinking. Caroline never knew whether that was reassuring or upsetting. “Maybe.” She heard Crunch rustling around in the bathroom. “Your turn next. Gotta beat Jonesie to the shower before they run out of hot water.”

  * * * * *

  She made it through the night without any bad dreams. Probably because she stared at the nightlight and hadn’t slept. The next day’s travel was easy until they got to a truck stop outside Marietta, Oklahoma, where they were meeting up with the trucker who would take them across the border into Denton.

  “We’ll leave the car here,” Gig explained. “By the time anyone notices that it’s abandoned, we’ll be in California.”

  Everyone was in an optimistic mood. “You don’t get attached to your vehicles?” Caroline asked.

  Gig paused in the act of producing two small duffel bags out of the back of the SUV. The payoffs, no doubt. “Hard to let go but I can manage,” he said, turning his head as a semi approached in the distance. “I think that’s our ride.”

  The man who stepped out of the cab fit every stereotype Caroline could think of, right down to the flannel shirt and literal trucker cap. At least he didn’t have mud flaps with naked women on them. He nodded at them all. “Name’s Smokey,” he said, smiling at Gig. “Which makes y’all the Bandit.”

  That joke made no sense for any number of reasons and wasn’t even funny, but Caroline decided not to point that out. She nervously eyed the back of the trailer, hoping it was more spacious than it appeared from the outside.

  Gig frowned. “No time for kidding around. Let’s make this quick.”

  Smokey explained the process: they would indeed be in the semi, they’d be hiding behind his legitimate cargo, and they’d have flashlights, food, and water. He and Gig both made sure their cell signals worked so that they could call each other if anything were to go awry. He’d drop them off in Denton where their next contact would be waiting.

  Caroline was deathly afraid of what would happen if the flashlights failed. Traveling away from Washington had helped ease some of her concerns but she felt like every step she took, the Fed was one step behind. With their guns and ropes and knives. Their taunts and laughter. And darkness. Utter darkness.

  Her friends took his explanations in stride but she wanted to make sure she knew everything necessary to get across the border safely. “What do we do if they want to search the trailer?” Caroline asked.

  Smokey took off his cap and scratched his head. “That’s a bit complicated,” he said. “Y’all will have to scramble behind them tallest boxes in the front and not make a peep. I mean it. Not one single fuckin’ sound. I got some cash that usually makes them turn a blind eye to questionable shit, but I reckon Texas don’t want any more unannounced visitors.”

  He wasn’t reassuring her at all, and the guys looked just as skeptical as she did. But she was the only one willing to ask questions, so she jumped in again. “Have you done this before?”

  He readjusted his hat. “Sure, sugar. Plenty of times.”

  She couldn’t tell if he was lying or not, but Gig squeezed her shoulder. “It’s fine,” he said. “We’ve got a system.”

  Gabe, Jones, and Crunch didn’t say a word, and after a quick look around to make sure there were no eyes on them, they climbed into the trailer. Smokey held up his cell phone as he shut them inside. “Y’all know the code,” he said.

  Caroline quickly switched her flashlight on, breathing a sigh of relief. Even those few seconds of darkness were too many. Smokey had taken the time to throw some blankets near the tallest boxes, and they settled in right before he started off.

  “If things go way south, he’s got a signal planned,” Gig said. “We’ll probably figure it out if he’s stopped for too long, but you never know.”

  Had Gabe told Gig about her fear of the dark? He must have seen her nightlight. Any combination of deathly quiet, absolute lack of movement, and complete and total darkness would be enough to send her over the edge. Thinking about it almost made her hyperventilate. They hadn’t been moving long before the truck slid to a stop.

  “Must be at the border,” Crunch said. “It was only a few miles down the road.”

  Gig put a finger to his lips. “Stay quiet, just in case.”

  The minutes passed. Caroline couldn’t tell how many. The longer they sat without starting up again, the more worried she got. They heard the distinctive sound of an air horn.

  “Flashlights off,” Gig whispered. “Hurry. They’re coming.”

  Caroline shook her head back and forth. “No.”

  Gig glared at her. “Turn it the fuck off.”

  She held onto it with both hands when he tried to grab it. “No.”

  Jones scooted closer to her. “Come on, Princess. Turn it off.”

  She shook her head again. No way in hell was she turning that light off. She might be stuck in darkness forever.

  Gig tried to snatch it out of her hands again. “Turn it off,” he whispered harshly. “Do you want to get caught?”

  Jones grabbed it and flicked it off, putting his arms around her. “Hold on,” he whispered. “You listen to me. Shut your eyes.”

  She hiccupped a breath. Gun. She needed her gun. It was in her knapsack. They could shoot whoever was going to search the semi and hightail it out of there. It was the only way to be safe. She could feel the darkness gathering already. It was getting closer. She’d sink into the abyss and would never be able to crawl back out. “I can’t.”

  “Yes, you can,” he said. “You shut your eyes and you think of a nice sandy beach and cool ocean breezes, all right?”

  She started to reach blindly for her knapsack. Gig must have seen her even without the light, because he quickly snatched it out of her way. “Don’t be an idiot,” he snarled.

  “Fuck you, man,” Jones said. “That kind of talk ain’t gonna calm her down. Gimme her shit back.”

  Gig punched Jones in the arm. “Shut the fuck up,” he hissed.

  Jones squeezed Caroline tighter, ignoring Gig. “You heard me, Princess. Close your eyes and think of California. You don’t need nothing but that.”

  Gig had her gun. Jones had her flashlight. All she had were her thoughts. She leaned into Jonesie’s hug and squeezed her eyes shut, saying a silent prayer as they huddled behind the cargo. The trailer door came up. She didn’t breathe. She doubted any of her friends were breathing, either. Caroline opened her eyes and saw flashlights grazing over the tops of boxes, flicking toward the reflective interior of the trailer, coming dangerously close to where they were sitting. Then they disappeared. Low voices in discussion slowly faded away. The door came down and she let out the breath she’d been holding.

  Jones turned her flashlight back on but kept holding onto her up until they lurched to a halt about an hour later. It took a while before he let go. “You did it,” he whispered. “Now all we need to do is get on that plane, you hear?”

  She gave him another hug for good measure, feeling a small sense of achievement. She’d made it through. They all had.

  When they stepped out into the sunlight she saw no control tower, buildings, or hangars. Just a barbed wire fence and a deserted country road.

  “Where the fuck are we?” she asked.

  “My buddy’s ranch,” Gig said. “He’s got an unpaved runway and a Piper Meridian that flies like the wind, so he says.”

  Funny how he kept describing these opportunists as buddies. And he’d never actually said they were going to an airport. “We’re taking off on dirt?” she asked.

  Crunch laughed. He’d barely spoken during
the trailer ride but the fresh air had helped him regain his edge. “Can’t very well show up at a muni airport and get clearance,” he said.

  This was sounding more and more illegal. It wasn’t a problem considering everything else they’d done, but the course of action gave the plan an additional risk she hadn’t considered. Smokey grinned broadly at them as he meandered around the truck.

  “That was close,” he said. “Thought those Texas border agents would find you for sure.”

  “Did they think you were hiding something?” Gabe asked.

  “No idea, but fuck, y’all got some four leaf clover shit going for you. Play it while you can.”

  Caroline gazed down the dirt road leading to the ranch house, where a man was waving as he approached the semi. Maybe their luck would hold. The man shook hands with Smokey, who grinned at him.

  “Take care,” Smokey said. “I got a shipment to deliver.”

  His grin widened when Gig handed him one of the duffel bags. He’d been paid. No doubt that was all he cared about. They watched him haul off with his cargo, the dust kicking up behind the trailer.

  “Well,” the man said, gesturing toward the house. “Best get going, right? Day’s not getting any longer.”

  “I don’t like this,” Caroline whispered to Gabe.

  “It’ll be fine,” he said. “Trust Gig.”

  The man led them down the road and past the house to a wide open field, where a small airplane sat in the distance. “Ready to go?” he asked. “You can call me Maverick, by the way. But you can forget it as soon as you heard it, because it’s not my real name.”

  Of course it wasn’t. No one else introduced themselves. Caroline wasn’t going to volunteer more information than she had to. All parties involved wanted to get in the air and get on with it. But her curiosity got the best of her and while the guys were grabbing more food and water inside the house, she pulled him aside.

  “You’re flying us to Tijuana,” Caroline said.

  Maverick smiled at her. His teeth were crooked. “That’s what I understand, yes.”

  “Out of the goodness of your heart.”

  “And Bandit’s paying me some serious coin.”

  When it came to nicknames, “Princess” was bad but “Bandit” was worse. She hadn’t hassled Gig about it yet, but she would. Every time she heard it she pictured an ill-tempered chihuahua. “I know,” she said. “What else?”

  He smiled again. “Might have already had a trip planned anyway, if you catch my drift.”

  She caught it all right. She didn’t see a lot of cattle on his ranch but had noticed several expensive cars parked in the driveway. A fifty thousand dollar payoff was minimum wage to this guy. “Meth or cocaine?”

  “Highest quality ice you can find,” he said. “Been sneaking it into the States right under Santos’ nose.”

  She supposed that putting one over on that man wasn’t something to be unhappy about. But still… “Meth is a terrible drug,” she said. “I wish you’d smuggle some weed instead.”

  “Did that last time. Got some in the house if you need to mellow out. Good stuff.”

  Could he tell how nervous she was about flying? She’d heard worse ideas. But getting stoned probably wasn’t the best way to maintain her composure. Did Gig know about Maverick’s side business? She wasn’t going to be the one to tell him.

  “All right,” she said. “As long as you can get us to Mexico in one piece, I don’t care what you do. Please tell me you’re sober.”

  He grinned again. “Can’t promise that, either. I can fly. That’s all you need to know. We’ve got a full tank, enough to get us outside the city limits.”

  She stepped back and took a look at the plane. She knew Pipers, knew they weren’t cheap, but in her mind anything with a propeller was held together with twine and super glue. Caroline had nary a pill in sight to ease her anxiety. She could try to think of pleasant things. Happy things. Wonderful things. Which was exactly what she told herself when she miraculously nodded off during the bumpy flight.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  The Past

  “This is too much,” Caroline said. “Do I want to know how much you paid to charter this thing?”

  Jack kissed her cheek. “No. Consider it part of your wedding present.”

  “I’m getting something else aside from a trip to Italy?”

  He grinned. “I have many, many surprises for you packed away in my luggage.”

  She wasn’t sure if that meant sex toys, jewelry, or both. Maybe it was worth it to wait. Jack had leased a Boeing jet for the flight from Philadelphia to Rome since his Gulfstream didn’t have the fuel capacity to make it across the Atlantic without stopping. Caroline would have been happy with two first class tickets but he insisted on pulling out all the stops.

  He wrapped his arms around her shoulders from behind. “We have this entire plane to ourselves,” he whispered, kissing the back of her neck.

  “Except for the flight crew.”

  “We can hide from them.”

  Caroline wasn’t too keen on doing anything in the passenger cabin. They were more likely to be seen that way. Again Jack was forgetting who they were, forgetting that inappropriate photos of them on their honeymoon might command big money from the right tabloid. “Is there a bed on this thing?” she asked.

  He bit her shoulder. “There is. We have to wait until we take off, though.” He ran his tongue over one of the bite marks that remained from the night before. She’d decided to forego a turtleneck and had dressed in a blouse and pants, choosing ease of removal over modesty. “Can you wait that long?”

  She stepped back into him. “I think so.”

  He spun her around and grabbed her hand. “Good. Let’s break open the champagne.”

  The combination of fatigue and alcohol was enough to make her forget that they were taking off, and as soon as they reached a cruising altitude Jack tugged her into the bedroom suite.

  “Have you ever had sex on a plane?” Caroline asked, after they’d safely locked themselves in.

  “Do you really want to know the answer to that question?”

  “Kinda.”

  Jack grinned at her. “No. No I have not.”

  “Tease,” she said.

  “You thought the answer would be yes?”

  “You’ve done it everywhere else.”

  “That’s not true,” he said. “I’ve never done it on a train. By the way, I’ve booked us a train ride to the Italian wine country. With a private car.” The plane hit an air pocket and Jack caught Caroline in his arms. “You okay?”

  She took a deep breath. He’d convinced her to lay off the anxiety meds since he promised to keep her occupied while they were in the air. It also wasn’t the best idea to mix medication and booze. “I’m fine.”

  “I can distract you.”

  “Is that why you brought me in here?”

  “Yes.” He kissed her softly. “Any requests?”

  “Nothing too acrobatic. You roughed me up a little last night.”

  He laughed. “You gave me the green light.”

  “And I drove right along with you. Doesn’t mean I’m not a little sore.”

  Jack pulled her closer. “What were you thinking?”

  “Nice, ordinary, missionary style sex?”

  He fingered her blouse. “That’s so boring, sweetheart. Be creative.”

  Creativity was for women who hadn’t been fucked into unconsciousness the night before. “You wore me out.”

  “Are you complaining?”

  It had been one of the best experiences of her life. “Absolutely not.”

  “I have some toys in my carry-on. New in package.”

  She tried to act casual but was dying to rifle through the bag to see what he was talking about. “I suppose you can try them out. As long as I’m on my back.”

  “I can use them all.” He slid her blouse off her shoulders and unhooked her bra. “It’s a long flight.”

 
“Do I get to undress you?”

  He started to work on her pants. “I want you naked first. I’m debating how long to keep you that way.”

  She smiled at him. “What if I went running up and down the aisles screaming like a banshee?”

  “All while naked as a jaybird?”

  “Obviously.”

  “We might have to make an emergency landing.” He bit her earlobe. “I know you don’t want that.”

  She let him remove the rest of her clothes. “I don’t,” she whispered. “Do I get to undress you?”

  “I was thinking of giving you a little striptease,” he said.

  Oh, that sounded decadent. “Far be it for me to decline that offer. But if we hit turbulence and you fall over I reserve the right to laugh my ass off.”

  He didn’t seem too concerned about that. “Make yourself comfortable.”

  She slid back onto the bed and grabbed a pillow, then flopped forward on the mattress. “Okay,” she said, propping her chin on her hands. “Show me what you’ve got.”

  “I brought an iPod with some sexy music,” Jack said.

  “I don’t need music. And you’re a liar. Take your pants off first.”

  He started unbuttoning his shirt. “I don’t take orders.”

  Her eyes drifted below his belt. “I disagree. That last request seems to have garnered a reaction.”

  “I’m just entranced by the sight of you sprawled out on the bed waiting for me to take you from behind.”

  “Less talk, more clothing removal. Get on with it, McIntyre.”

  He let the shirt slide down his arms, then very dramatically whipped off his undershirt. “Would you like to help me with my pants?”

  “I don’t have any dollar bills to stuff in your boxers.”

  He strutted over to the bed. “I don’t require payment.”

  She tugged at his zipper. “Maybe I can help a little. If it will keep you quiet.”

  He unbuttoned his fly and shoved his pants and boxers down. “Turn over,” he said.

  “You don’t want to take me from behind?”

  “I changed my mind,” he said, settling in on top of her. His cock was at her hip. He’d done quite a good job of getting himself excited without her assistance. She’d have plenty of time to get him worked up later. His foot brushed against hers.