Filed to story: Falling for My Ex's Mafia Dad Novel Free PDF (Fay Alden & Kent Lippert)
Can people still refer to you as baby when you’re a murderer? When you’ve killed your father and stolen the life he’s built?
When you’ve got about twenty more felonies planned for your afternoon?
Well. I guess we’ll find out.
I roll my window down and casually toss the phone out of the car, where I hope it gets pulverized by traffic. But even if it doesn’t, it won’t matter. We’ll be off the grid by nightfall.
I take Daniel’s hand as I press the button to close the window, giving his palm a little squeeze.
“Love you,” I say quietly, my eyes on the road ahead of us.
“Love you too,” he replies, quite simply.
And then we sit in silence as we drive the hour and a half journey to the coast.
Kent blinks his eyes twice, hard, shaking his head and trying to clear it
The world fuck, it feels like the entire world just exploded
He looks around at the mess of bent metal and glass around him, realizing that the prison transport van is on its side that he’s laying slumped against the broken window, on the side of the van which does not have the door
He groans, realizing that his head is aching, that there’s a wetness on his forehead. He reaches up to touch it, to assess the damage, but his wrists jerk when he tries to go too far because, of course, he’s still chained up in here
One of the prisoners in the seats behind him groans in pain, the other is silent
Is he even alive?
Kent turns to look, but suddenly two gunshots ring out in the air and he goes still, realizing that…this is something more than a car crash. Instantly alert, he looks around, trying to see whatever he can, to learn
There’s a scuffle somewhere he can hear bodies hitting each other, shouting, commands more gun shots, people being told to get on their knees, to put their hands behind their backs
Fuck, were those cops? Or…
His attention suddenly turns to the front of the van the driver is unmoving but the guard he’s ripped from the passenger side door, shouting in pain and fear
Before Kent can even process this, the siding slide door of the van currently above his head slides back with a loud screech. Kent flinches at the sound and the sunlight that comes streaming in. Blinking, he looks up to see a silhouetted figure peering down. And then, to his shock, the figure jumps down into the van, landing right in front of him.
Kent’s eyes go completely round with shock as the figure comes into view, kneeling beside him with a set of bolt cutters in one hand.
“Hey, Kent,” Jerome says, his voice serious but concerned. “Are you hurt? Can you get up?”
“What…”
“Seriously,” Jerome pushes, his voice tense as he glancing at the other prisoners and then back up at the door. “We don’t have a lot of time if I get you loose can you walk?”
Kent takes a second to assess himself as the kid starts to snip at the chains that links his hands, his legs, and the floor of the van. Then he takes a deep breath as the final pieces snap into place in his mind: that this wasn’t a random accident, it’s a rescue mission, planned by his people. And if they’re going to get away with this, they have to go. Now.
“I’m all right,” Kent says, pushing himself to his feet as Jerome snips the final chain. “Just an achy shoulder and…” he swipes his hand at his forehead, which indeed comes away bloody. “Something with my head, but I can’t tell…”
Jerome takes a second to peer at it. “It doesn’t look bad.”
“Hey!” the conscious prisoner says from behind them. “Hey, let me out too! Hey!”
“Sorry,” Jerome says, tossing the bolt cutters at his feet. “No time.” And then, with more athleticism than Kent has seen him display before, Jerome jumps up and grabs the edge of the door, pulling himself out of the van and reaching a hand down to help Kent.
Kent, shaking his head a little in disbelief at the sloppiness of this endeavor clasps Jerome’s hand and lets the kid help pull him out of the van.
Things move quickly from there. Kent and Jerome slide down from the van and Jerome heads immediately for the field next to them at a run, gesturing for Kent to follow. Kent does, knowing that Jerome is a least temporarily in charge. But as he goes, Kent looks around in wonder at the truck with the smoking engine that sits next to the totaled transport van and then at the other car, a pickup truck, that hit the police car that followed the prison transport
Kent’s eyes move next to the guys in black ski masks who move quickly and efficiently through the group of cops and guards, securing them with zip ties so that they can’t follow or contact anyone for help. As Kent follows Jerome through the field still not knowing where the hell they’re going, or why they’re going away from the road a black van appears over the edge of the hill, driving down the road to the scene of the accident.
“Jerome!” Kent snaps, grabbing at the kid’s arm. “What the fuck is going on! Shouldn’t we be in that?” he says, pointing towards the black van which arrives at the scene of the accident and slides open the door before even coming to a stop. The men in black ski masks start to climb in.
“Nah,” Jerome says, glancing over his shoulder and then pulling his hand out of Kent’s grasp, starting to move again. “That’s just the decoy van for Fiona’s guys ”
“Fiona’s guys!?” Kent gasps, slowing in his shock.
“Would you come on,” Jerome snaps, turning back to grab Kent’s arm now, hauling him along with him. “There is a plan, Kent! The slower you move right now, the more likely it is that we get caught! Let’s go!”
Realizing that he’s right, Kent grits his teeth and follows Jerome at a run, hating every second of it. Because this it doesn’t make any sense, and it’s basically the opposite of how he would have done any of this
Jerome slows when they get to a copse of trees on the far side of the field, beckoning Kent to follow. Kent does, and then his jaw drops open when he sees of all damn things two horses waiting for them there, tied to a branch.
“What the…”
“Come on,” Jerome says, untying one of the bridles and flipping the reins over the horse’s head. “We have a long ride, and we have to get started before “
“Stop,” Kent commands and Jerome used to obeying this man freezes with one foot in the stirrup, turning to his boss. “What the hell is going on here? Who who planned this?”
And to Kent’s surprise, after a moment of frozen silence, Jerome’s face breaks into a tiny smile as he laughs. “Kent,” he says, shaking his head and then tossing Kent a small black backpack from a saddlebag. “When we were faced with the problem of how to get you from the scene of the crash to the coast unseen and off of main roads, who do you think was the first person to decide that the answer was horses?”
Kent catches the bag and then just blinks at Jerome for a second, confused, before he groans and lets his head fall back. “Fay,” he answers, sighing and scraping a worried hand down the length of his face. “You’re right. This…screams Fay.”
“Yeah,” Jerome says, pulling himself up onto his horse forward. “But it’s a good plan, Kent. It’s going to work. But in order for it to work, we need you to get changed and then on the damn horse. All right?”
Kent glares up at Jerome for a second, not liking his tone, but then he quickly opens the backpack, taking out the simple pedestrian clothing before stripping off his orange jumpsuit and tugging the clothes on, struggling a little to get them over the handcuffs and leg shackles are still fastened to his body. That done, Kent shoves the jumpsuit into the backpack and then tucks it neatly under a bush before moving over to the horse, untying the bridle. As he climbs onto the horse, Kent suddenly recognizes it, realizing that this is one of his horses. How the hell did they manage that?
“Ready?” Jerome asks, turning the horse towards him.
“You’ve got a path?” Kent asks, looking steadily at the kid.
Jerome winks and taps his head with his fingertips. “Memorized. She quizzed me. I can do it in my sleep.”
“Leave it to Fay,” Kent murmurs as he nods to Jerome and they start to ride, heading through the woods away from the scene of the crash, “to design a prison break that involves quizzes.”
“It’s going to work, Kent!” Jerome calls over his shoulder. “Have faith in her!”
“Oh, I do,” he sighs. “Perhaps despite all logic and common sense…I have faith in Fay.” And then they kick their horses into a canter and flee the scene.
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