Page 64 of Landry

Camille blinked, frowned, and then it dawned on her. “Billy Ray?”

The boy nodded, shot a glance right, then left. “You need to leave,” he said, his softly spoken words muffled even more by the glass. “Now.”

“Why?” she asked.

“They’re still here.” He rose, bringing his face closer to hers before he whispered, “They killed a guy.”

Camille’s heart leaped into her throat.

Landry.

No.

He couldn’t be dead. Ava liked him. So did Camille. Landry was a good man, unlike her lying, stealing ex-husband. He didn’t deserve to die. She pushed the door open, desperate now to get to him.

Before she could get out, Billy Ray shoved the door shut. “You have to leave now. Go. Drive away, or they will hurt you, too.”

“Billy Ray, let me out,” she said and tried to open the door again.

Billy Ray leaned against it, refusing to let her out. “You have to go.”

“Landry is at my house now. He’s a good man. If he’s hurt...” she gulped back a sudden sob, “I can’t leave him to die.”

“Please, leave now. You have to protect yourself.” He refused to move away from the door. “And don’t bring Ava back here. It’s not safe.”

Camille switched tactics. “If it’s not safe for me, it’s not safe for you. Get in the truck, Billy Ray.”

His eyes narrowed, and he backed a few steps away. “I can take care of myself. But you need to go.” Again, he looked around as if someone would appear out of the shadows, his fear and concern palpable.

Without the boy leaning on the door, Camille shoved it open and dropped to the ground. “Billy Ray, tell me what’s happening. Did someone hurt Landry?”

He shook his head and waved toward the truck. “I don’t know who the man is. He wore a ski mask. A big guy. He was here before and scared Ava. You have to leave now and protect her.”

Camille walked slowly toward the lanky boy, wearing clothes too big for him. He needed a haircut and a lot of love. “Billy Ray,” she said softly. “Come with me, and we’ll both leave this place.”

Again, he shook his head. “I can’t go with you. They’ll take me back to that foster family. I don’t want to live with people I don’t know…people who don’t really care if I live or die. I can take care of myself.” He tipped his head toward the truck. “Please, for Ava, leave.”

Camille inched toward Billy Ray. “I care if you live or die, and so does Ava.” She held out her hand. “Let me help you.”

“You don’t understand what it’s like to have no one.”

“I do understand, more than you think.” She took another step toward the boy.

“Please, take care of Ava,” he said and then spun and dove toward the shadows beneath the trees.

He’d only reached the darkest edge of the forest when a man dressed in black caught him in his powerful arms.

Before Camille could scream, a hand clamped over her mouth, and a thick arm grabbed her around her middle, trapping one arm.

Her cries were muffled as she kicked and clawed with her free hand. No matter how hard she fought, she couldn’t break free of the steely hold he had on her. Her heart thundering in her ears, she didn’t let up her struggle. She had to free herself and help Billy Ray.

The man lifted her off her feet and carried her through the trees toward the bayou as if she weighed nothing.

Ahead of her, another man struggled to hold onto the boy as he twisted and turned, kicked and squirmed, making it difficult to hold onto him.

An airboat stood with its bow halfway up the bank, manned by three men. One sat in the captain’s seat, the other stood in the bow, wielding a military-grade rifle pointed at the third man standing beside him. She couldn’t make out faces yet, but the man with the gun pointed at him looked vaguely familiar.

Camille’s heartbeat raced faster. If these men got them into that boat, they could take her away from Landry to anywhere in the bayou. He’d never find them until it was too late.

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