Page 85 of One Way Out
We visit the forger, collect our new documents, and drive another hour to the town Leo and Shaw’s boss sends us to.
It’s not one of the big cities either. It’s one I’ve never heard of before, but the tech guy specifically said we would only have a ten-minute drive to the airport tomorrow.
They’ve been on top of everything up to this point, so I don’t let myself stress about whether Valor and I will be detained at security.
The five of us settle into one small-ass hotel room while Ridge gets his own. He’s supposed to be dropping off all the weapons and gear to his contact here in Germany. It’s not like we can fly with any of it, anyway.
It’s a bit like Christmas as I examine my new documents. Apparently, they’ve given me an American driver’s license—which I will not be using for its intended purpose. They drive on the opposite side of the road in America. That’s bloody terrifying, but I’ve also got a birth certificate that makes me a year and a day older than I actually am. As well as a brand-new shiny passport.
“Seriously?” I ask, holding up my passport. “Oscar Miller, really?”
Valor snorts. “I’m Caleb Valenti, so…” He shrugs. “I guess we should thank the guy for keeping it close enough we can say we go by our nicknames?”
“Oscar is a fine name to go on your marriage certificate,” Saylor says, patting my back. She’s stretched out behind me on the bed, rolled up in the same blanket she’s been in all day. “Caleb is cute too. It won’t matter for long. You can change your last names when we do the pack commitment paperwork or the marriage certificate.”
“I would be shocked if Easton hasn’t already got that in motion,” Shaw says, pulling off his boots one by one. He tosses them next to the table and meanders over, climbing onto the bed behind me.
“That’s probably a good thing. We’re going to need access to my trust to pay back whatever penalties he’ll owe from the house being destroyed,” Saylor says. “It’ll be convenient to not have to wait ages for them to approve our pack paperwork.”
“As shitty as it sounds, there’s no way Easton rented that house in a way that legally ties it to him or Shadow Security,” Leo says, grimacing.
“You ain’t kidding.” Shaw snorts. “Sorry, princess. You’re getting a front-row view of the ugly side of being bonded to criminals.”
“That sucks for whoever owns the house,” Saylor says, humming. “Maybe we can send them an anonymous box of cash or something once my trust pays out.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Shaw says, but even I know how unlikely that is.
It would give a searchable mailing history that could be followed back to the US. Depending on which post office it was mailed from, they all have cameras nowadays.
That idea is something we’ll have to gently guide her away from. Or possibly they’ll find some sneaky way to make it happen. She really is too good at her core to be saddled with fuckers like us.
“By the way,” Leo says, drawing me out of my musings. “My contact in London was able to retrieve everything from your apartment.”
“No shit?” Valor asks with wide eyes.
Leo nods. “It required him to call in a few favors, but he made it happen. He’s going to mail everything but the cash to our apartment in Vermont. He’s asking for fifteen percent to wash the cash because that will need to be done by wire transfer. It’ll also take some time to deposit it in a way that won’t draw attention.”
That sounds rational to me, and I check in with Valor, who nods. It also speaks to why it’s ill-advised to mail massive amounts of cash. It can get stuck in customs, and that would initiate a full-scale investigation.
Only criminals mail tens of thousands of dollars in cash.
“The other option would be for him to purchase gold through a supplier and have it mailed to us. Then we would just need to liquidate it, but I think the wire transfer is simpler,” Leo says, glancing between me and Valor. “I can probably talk him down to ten percent.”
Valor shakes his head. “No, it’s only right. Tell him to keep the fifteen percent, but ask him to get insurance and tracking on the package with Clara’s ring and my photo albums.”
“That won’t be a problem,” Leo says, but I’m barely listening at this point.
Saylor’s perfume floods the small hotel room.
Bloody hell.
What will we do if that happens while we’re in the air?
* * *
All our nerves are shot the next morning. Saylor ran a fever all night, and it’s still high as we pack up to head to the airport. She swears she’ll be fine, and that she can tough it out if she has to, but I don’t think any of us have high aspirations for flying ever again. We’ll probably end up on a watch list somewhere.
This is why omegas are told to stay home and nest leading up to and during their heats. Indecent exposure laws still exist, even for omegas. I might not have a knot, but I won’t just let her suffer.
