Page 40 of Russian Roulette
“Come on, we’ll go after her in my Jeep.” Kit points to the multi-car garage connected to the far end of the house. “She’s already gained a big head start on us. We can’t take the chance of losing her. Once she dumps the limo, we’ll never find her again.”
He hurries to get the vehicle from the garage. Two minutes later, he comes roaring out of the garage in his bright yellow Jeep with the top off. “Hop in,” he yells when he pulls to a stop.
I grab the thick, black rollbar and climb into the front passenger seat, while Vulcan jumps into the back. Leroy struggles to climb up into the jeep until Vulcan reaches over with his hand and drags him in.
“Jesus, Leroy,” Vulcan grumbles. “You need to lay off the pizza and start working out. For a big man, you’re a weak pussy.”
“I’ll start tomorrow,” Leroy mutters. “No, that’s a lie. Next week would be better because I’m busy tomorrow.”
“Buckle up, boys,” Kit tells us. “This will be a rough ride. There’s a gate on the back side of the ranch that will save us some time. Hang on tight because we’re going cross-country. We can catch up to her or cut her off if we can beat her to the main road.”
“Ah shit! I was afraid you’d say that,” Leroy moans. He wraps both hands around the rollbar in the back. “I hate off-roading in this damn Jeep. My ass will be sore for days. Don’t throw me out of here. I didn’t bring a helmet.”
Grabbing the seat belt, I click the buckle and grab the rollbar to hang on tight. Kit doesn’t need to warn us twice. We’ve all ridden with him before on the ranch.
Kit hits the gas pedal, and we take off flying through the vast fields of his ranch. The ride is rough, with lots of bumps and holes to avoid. Leroy yells and curses the entire way with Vulcan laughing every time Leroy almost falls out of the jeep.
Minutes later, Kit stops abruptly in front of the back gate. He hits a fob on his keychain and the steel gate slowly slides open. He doesn’t wait for it to fully open before driving through it.
Kit glances into his rearview mirror. “Vulcan, make sure the gate closes fully behind us,” he says. “I’d hate for the animals to wander out through an unlocked gate or for an unwanted guest to get in.”
Vulcan turns his head around to make sure the gate is closed. “We’re good,” he says, waving Kit on. “It’s closed. Go! Go! Quit dicking around!”
Kit pulls onto the road and floors it. “We’ve saved some time crossing the ranch,” he says. “She can’t be too far ahead of us. Don’t forget, we have the advantage because she doesn’t know where the hell she is and how to drive to wherever she’s going. That will slow her down. She isn’t familiar with driving around Vegas.”
“Not necessarily,” Leroy says. “There’s a GPS in the limo if she can figure out how to use it.”
“Where is she now?” I turn around in my seat to ask him. “Can you check your app?”
Leroy pulls out his phone. “I can’t get a signal. The app isn’t updating.”
“Turn on the damn cellular,” Vulcan says.
“It’s on,” Leroy replies. “We’re in a cellular black hole. Cell towers can’t grow in the desert. It’ll pick back up the closer we get to Vegas.”
“Don’t worry,” Kit says. “There’s only one road to the ranch, so we’re going in the same direction she is.” He glances over at me. “Do you think she’s headed back to Vegas?”
“She’s on her way to get her car,” I answer. “Wherever she left it. She mentioned she drove here from Los Angeles. My best bet is that she’ll grab her car, dump the limo and hightail it out of Vegas.”
We all fall silent at the thought of being mere minutes away from Jade walking out of our lives.
Forever.
“Can this Jeep go any faster?” I ask. “We can’t lose her now.”
Kit presses the gas pedal to the floor, a grim expression on his face. “You bet your ass it can. Hang on!”
21
JADE
Discovering Seven’s limo unlocked with the keys in the ignition is an unexpected stroke of fortune. I quickly get in and drive away from the ranch at full speed. If I’m lucky, I might have a ten-minute head start before the guys realize I’m gone. They’ll be furious and will come straight after me.
I scoot to the edge of the driver’s seat. To any passersby, I’d look like a frail elderly woman in her nineties attempting to see over the steering wheel. Leroy has adjusted the seat back to accommodate his long legs, making it difficult for me to reach the pedals.
My goal is to reach the hotel where my car, clothes, and computer are stashed. I plan to grab everything and leave within five minutes. I’ve already prepaid for the room, so I won’t need to stop at the reception desk to return the keys.
I can make it.
