Highways & Hostages (33 page)

She nodded slowly. “We’re going to break him out.”

Finn, 8:43 p.m.

This time when Finn blinked his eyes open, the lashes of his right eye were sticky and a red haze of blood clouded his vision. He felt a stinging sensation above his right eyebrow.

The new bodyguard, who von Rothschild addressed as Marc, and Tobias had done a number on Finn, tying his legs to the chair’s, then taking turns beating him. Finn could only imagine what he would see when he looked in the mirror—if he ever got the chance to look in a mirror again. The cold, twisted feeling in his stomach told him this was some sick, G-rated preview of what they had in store for him after the three of them left the mansion. Thankfully, the two men had grown tired of beating the shit out of him—at least for the time being—and left the room.

Finn really wished he could just pass out for good, so he wouldn’t be conscious for any more beatings or bullshit from von Rothschild. Who would miss him except for his grandma, Alex, and possibly Julian—his uncle? Would Stella miss him?

Oh, shit.
Finn hadn’t even thought about the fact that he was supposed to be going to Stella’s trailer for dinner. He had lost all sense of time. It was probably well after the time they had planned to meet. She probably thought he’d stood her up; it wasn’t like she had any reason to think otherwise.

Finn heard a strangled shout from von Rothschild’s office and wondered what the hell was happening now. He
knew
working with the FBI was a bad idea. He’d even expressed his fears to Julian, but of course Julian had wanted to do whatever it took to keep himself out of prison. And now Finn was here, tied up, awaiting an unknown but terrifying fate while Julian was probably sitting back in his office, feet propped up on his desk, drinking scotch without a care in the world.

The door to von Rothschild’s office opened, and Finn tensed. It wasn’t so much the beatings that bothered him—he’d been beaten senseless in juvie on a few occasions—but von Rothschild was alternating physical pain with mental torment like some kind of cruel and unusual wartime punishment. Finn released the breath he’d been holding as Marc dragged Billy’s unconscious form into the room.

“What the fuck?” Finn asked as Marc plunked Billy into the chair across from him. He started zip tying one of Billy’s wrists to the chair. “Are you all turning on each other now?”

Marc made no show that he’d heard Finn. Without a word, he completed his task and exited the room the way he had come in. Billy’s head lolled against his chest. Finn didn’t see any visible injuries, so that was good. He was still mad, and Billy might still be a jackass, but he was
Finn’s
jackass cousin if von Rothschild was to be believed.

“Billy? Billy?” Finn tried to jerk his chair closer to Billy’s, but the restraints around his legs kept him from moving too far. Billy must have served whatever purpose von Rothschild needed him for, and now he was getting rid of him. “Wake up! We need to find a way out of here.”

Billy was out cold, and Finn’s yelling wasn’t going to do anything but possibly attract unwanted attention. He shut up and contemplated the situation. Finn still knew every little nook and cranny of the mansion thanks to his memorization of the blueprints, but what good did that do him when his limbs were tied to a chair in the middle of the library? Maybe Billy knew something Finn didn’t after working so closely with von Rothschild. Finn really needed him to wake up, preferably before the return of von Rothschild’s henchmen.

Finn waited, tensing at every small noise outside either of the entrances to the library. When was Billy going to come to? The little shit had always been a heavy sleeper. After a few more minutes, Billy’s head lifted and his eyelashes fluttered.

“Where am I?” Billy asked, blinking quickly. His head swiveled around before his confused gaze landed on Finn.

“You’re in von Rothschild’s library, Sleeping Beauty. Now that you’re awake, tell me how to fucking get out of here.”

Billy tried to stand, but couldn’t move very far due to his wrists being restrained behind the chair. “No, no, no! She got me!”

“Claudia? Did she Tase you too? Good.”

Billy struggled against the zip ties. “It wasn’t a Taser. It was a stun gun. Fifteen million volts.”

“Jesus!” Finn had learned some self-defense skills that he had found increasingly useful as of late, but they were no match against a scorned woman with a stun gun. “I never would have pegged Claudia as the type to get her hands dirty. Vengeful bitch? Yes. Vengeful bitch with weapons? Not so much.”

“Well, bro, you must’ve done a number on her. She has, like, five of those things. She was just standing there in her dad’s office, about to put on lipstick, and next thing I know, she lunges at me, I get zapped, and I wake up here.” Billy gave Finn an impish half grin.

Finn scowled at him. “I’m not your ‘bro.’ Just because we’re both tied up in the same room doesn’t make us cool. Not even close.”

“What if we were in different rooms?” The grin slipped from Billy’s face as Finn let the silence stretch on between them. “Look, I’m really sorry. Like, super crazy sorry. If I had known you were my cousin—”

“How would that have changed anything?” Finn spat. “I still didn’t grow up like you and Alex. I’m still a bastard. I’d still be
m
e.”

“But you’d be blood—”

“I’ve treated you like my little brother since we met, Billy, blood or no. It doesn’t change anything. And it definitely doesn’t change the fact that I’m
royally
pissed at you, and once we get out of this—if we get out of this—I may kill you myself.”

“Finn, I said I’m sorry. I made a douche move. I’m
really
sorry. I’ll do whatever it takes to make it up to you.” Billy’s voice broke. “How are we going to get out of here?”

Finn sighed. “I don’t know, Billy. I’ve been sitting here trying to come up with something, and I’ve got
nada
. I was hoping you’d have an idea since you’ve spent a lot more time in this place and with the guy than I have.”

“I don’t know anything, Finn. I don’t. He never told me anything; I was just some kind of puppet.” Billy’s eyes looked watery.

Finn was still angry, but part of him felt for the kid. “I know the feeling,” he said. “Look, I need you to keep it together. We’re gonna find a way out of this. Between the two of us we can come up with something.”

Billy sniffed. “I don’t want the last words I said to my dad to basically be ‘Go fuck yourself.’”

Finn gave him a faint smile. “They won’t be.”

“I just called Alex and got his voicemail
again
. I left a message telling him we think Finn is at von Rothschild’s,” Stella said.

She paced the living room floor, wringing her hands. Valerie sat in the middle of the couch, typing furiously on Phoebe’s laptop while Phoebe rested on the arm of the couch.

“Okay, I found this von Rothschild guy’s address,” Valerie said. “And I found a picture of the house on Google Maps. It’s huge!”

“How far is it from here?” Stella asked.

“Fifteen minutes,” Phoebe read over Valerie’s shoulder. “Sweet! Let’s change into all-black outfits like they do on TV and get this show on the road.”

“Wait a minute—you’re not going anywhere,” Stella said. “You’re going to stay here where you’ll be safe and sound.”

Phoebe thrust out her lower lip. “No, I’m not. You’re acting like I’m twelve. I’ll be eighteen in a few months; I’m not some little kid you have to hide things from.”

Stella stopped her pacing and placed a hand on Phoebe’s shoulder. “It’s not that I think you’re too young. It’s just that I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you. Can’t you just cut me a break and stay here? I have enough to worry about as it is.”

“There’s no way I’m letting you go in there without me. I need to repay Baldie and his friends for their ‘kindness.’ Besides, I’ve been in the house and around these people. You can’t do this without me.”

“She’s right,” Valerie said. “We need her.”

Stella sighed.

“If it makes you feel better, we can take weapons,” Phoebe said.

“The idea of
you
with a weapon does
not
make me feel any better,” Stella replied.

Valerie raised her hand. “Well, it makes
me
feel better. In fact…”

She put the laptop down on the coffee table and picked up her purse. After rummaging around in it for a few seconds, she pulled out her keychain. “I’ve got my weapon right here.”

“Your keys? What, are you going to use them as makeshift brass knuckles?” Stella asked sarcastically.

“It’s pepper spray. I just press this little button—”

“Don’t!” Stella covered her face with her hands.

“Relax; I’ve never had to use it before. Let’s hope I won’t have to use it tonight either.”

“Wait a second—you’ve never used it before? This is
definitely
not a good idea,” Stella said, eyeing the pepper spray keychain as if it might go off at any moment.

Valerie ignored her. “So, Phoebe, what’s your weapon?”

Phoebe darted out of the room and quickly came back brandishing a can of hairspray.

Valerie smirked. “Gonna style them into submission?”

Phoebe flipped the cap off the spray, pulled a lighter from her pocket, and sent a blaze of fire in Valerie’s direction.

“Holy shit!” Valerie exclaimed.

Stella’s eyes were wide. She was speechless.

Phoebe put the lighter away and put the cap back on the can. “Worked like a charm last time.”

“Last time?” Stella mouthed at Valerie.

“What about you?” Valerie asked Stella. “What are
you
packing?”

“I refuse to take a weapon,” Stella said. “This is ridiculous. We’re not going to war.”

“It’s just for safety’s sake,” Phoebe said as she shoved the can of hairspray into the back of her pants. “Now, what’s the game plan?”

“This is it! This is the street!” Phoebe exclaimed, leaning forward between the front seats of Valerie’s car. Valerie drove slowly through the neighborhood they had seen on Google Maps. In the passenger seat, Stella bit her lip.

“You guys ready? Everybody know their parts?” Stella asked. “Valerie?”

“I pull up here and let Phoebe out of the car. Then I drive around the corner, drop you off, and wait for your signal. When you text, I’ll drive up to the gate and say I have a delivery for Mr. von Rothschild. The gates open, I drive in,” Valerie said.

“Good. Phoebe?”

Phoebe rolled her eyes, the mascara ringing them making her look more like a raccoon than the badass femme fatale she was going for. “You and I will scale the fence on either side of the yard. When someone comes out of the house to talk to Valerie, I run at them with my hairspray—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. That’s not part of the plan,” Stella interrupted.

“Think about it—if I tackle whoever it is and show them what I can do with my lighter and hairspray, they’ll tell us if Finn is inside or not. If he is, we keep going; if not, I still kick some ass and then we leave.”

“The first part was a decent idea,” Valerie said.

“Okay, but no ass kicking unless absolutely necessary.” Stella still wasn’t satisfied. Their plan wasn’t foolproof by any means. She looked a block ahead at the tall iron gates that enclosed von Rothschild’s yard. “I’m starting to think this wasn’t the best idea.”

“Stella, that chick told you he was
tied up
. And I’m, like, ninety-eight percent sure that was the chick who fed me French crap, and this is where she did it,” Phoebe said.

“What about the other two percent?” Stella asked.

Phoebe shrugged. “User error. We’ll never know unless we go.”

“Don’t get cold feet now,” Valerie said as she adjusted a studded black belt over the black tunic she’d found in Phoebe’s closet.

Both Valerie and Phoebe had dressed in black, and then insisted Stella dress in black as well. Stella thought it served more for dramatic effect rather than any useful purpose, but they had been so excited about the idea that she went along with it. Unfortunately, she didn’t own much black clothing, so she and Valerie had been forced to raid Phoebe’s closet. As a result, they looked like a mismatched group of grunge-goth Barbies.

“You have to save your Finn in distress!” Valerie added.

“‘Finn in distress’?” Phoebe and Stella said at the same time.

“You know, like ‘damsel in distress’?”

“Guys, if Finn really
is
in trouble, we don’t have time for this.” Stella took a deep breath. “Let’s just put on our big girl panties and do this.”

“Are we counting thongs as big girl panties?” Valerie asked.

Phoebe cringed. “Can we stop saying the word ‘panties’?”

“God, you two are useless! Val, you ready?”

Valerie nodded.

“Phoebe?”

Phoebe nodded.

Stella took another deep inhale. “Here we go.”

It was easy for Phoebe to climb up the property gates, thanks to her gymnastics training and tree climbing during her younger years. Phoebe hadn’t climbed anything in a long time, and she started to get a little amped as she easily ascended the gate, swung one leg over, and safely dropped to the ground below.

When Phoebe left the mansion days ago, she hadn’t been concerned with her surroundings—she’d been desperate to get back to Stella’s—so she hadn’t gotten a good look at the house. It was just as large as she imagined it must be, looming on the top of the hill as if daring someone to trespass. It would have been even more menacing if there weren’t statues of naked women all over the front of it. Based on their ample bosoms, Baldie was a boob man.

Phoebe took a deep breath and began creeping up the hill, alongside the fence. For all the bravado she had shown earlier with Stella and Valerie, she was slightly anxious. But her need to avenge her pride outweighed the fear. A mental image of punching Marc in the nose spurred her on.

After Phoebe crested the hill, she looked around from her position on the side of the yard. Everything out here was silent and still, but she saw figures moving in front of the windows on the second floor of the house. She was ready for some action, and wished time would speed up.