Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 125140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
The woman ushers me over and I walk through the scanner unnoticed. In a fleeting moment, I glance up to see Stace picking up his bag. His eyes meet mine before he looks away. Right, I need to get to the bathroom and quick.
I walk to the bathroom as I see Stace drop into a seat at the back of the lounge area. He is going to sit and check that nobody is here to find us, and from that position, he will be able to see everything around us once the crowd dies down. I walk into the bathroom stall and drop the lid, nearly falling onto it with relief. I’m sweating profusely. This is no good for my heart. I send him a text.
Are you okay?
An answer bounces back.
Yeah, babe, you?
I puff air into my cheeks as I type.
Can you see anyone?
He answers.
The coast seems clear. Wait for a ten minutes and then walk straight out and get into a cab to the Venetian.
I will be right behind you in another cab.
I smile because maybe we can get away unnoticed. I text back.
If something happens…
Don’t come after me
I take out my hairbrush and re-comb this stupid, itchy wig as my heart bangs heavily in my chest. God, I hate this shit. He answers.
I will see you at the hotel in the foyer. We can have a hot bath and order room service tonight.
I smile broadly. He always knows exactly what to say. I reply.
Bring it on.
xoxoxo
“It’s just up here.” Stace smiles proudly.
After a good night’s sleep in the beautiful Venetian hotel in Vegas, we are on our way to the passport guy in a car we have hired. Things seem to be going to plan and last night was uneventful. We checked into a room and had a big deep bath together and got that beautiful room service dinner he promised me. For a short time, we were in Heaven. Hopefully, this time tomorrow we will be on our way out of here. I don’t know if Stace slept all night. It seemed that every time I woke up, and that was a lot, he was awake, staring at the ceiling deep in thought.
We pull into a printing shop parking lot. “What are you doing?” I ask.
“This is it.”
I frown. “This is a printing shop.”
“Oh, because being a fake passport dealer is such a reputable business.”
“R-right,” I stammer. “I suppose so.”
I follow him in through the front doors and the receptionist smiles. “I’m here to see Vernon,” Stace announces.
“He’s in the back office.”
Stace nods and grabs my hand as we walk through a dingy hallway until we get to a closed door.
“This is sketchy,” I whisper.
“You think,” he whispers back as he knocks three times.
“Come in,” the voice calls.
Stace opens the door and we are greeted by the sight of a huge, overweight man sitting behind a large, black desk. His hair is long and in a ponytail, and he has a whole biker gone wrong vibe going on.
He sits back and shakes his head as he smiles smugly. “Well, well, well… if it isn’t the dead man walking? I was wondering when you would show up.”
Stace glares at him. “I need two passports.”
“Not a chance in Hell, man.”
Stace glares at him.
“Vikinos himself came to visit me and said if I made you and her…” His eyes flick to me. “A passport, I’m dead, too.”
“Nobody will know.” Stace growls.
“I need to be alive for my kids,” he fires back. “Death isn’t on my to do list this week.”
“When was he here?”
“A couple of days ago. He has a lot of men with him.”
Stace glares at him as he processes his words.
My eyes flicker nervously between the two men. Please let this work out.
Stace leans over him on the desk. “Maybe you didn’t understand me.”
Vernon’s eyes narrow.
“I said… I want two fucking passports and you are going to make them for me. Now!” Stace sneers.
“The answer is no.” His eyes hold Stace’s for an extended time, and eventually he fakes a smile. “I estimate you have about six hours to live.”
Stace dives over the desk and grabs Vernon around the throat. “Make the fucking passports or I will kill you myself.”
My eyes widen in horror. God, he’s losing his shit.
Vernon chokes and coughs. “Let me go. Let me go,” he cries.
Stace holds him, one hand around the throat and squeezes. “I want the fucking passports.”
“I can’t.” He coughs.
Stace bangs his head down on the desk. “Don’t make me fucking kill you.” He growls.
My hands fly to my head in a panic. This is getting out of control.
22
“There… there is someone else,” he stammers through his fear.
“Where?” Stace replies.
“He calls himself Wesley Snipes.”
I roll my eyes. “Now I have heard it all,” I mutter under my breath.
Stace slams his head again into the table. “Where?”