He lunges back and grabs my arm, dragging me behind him as he runs into the living room of the empty suite and heads for the door.
“I called you three times yesterday!” He opens the door a crack and peeks out only a moment before flinging it wide and charging us both through it.
We’re running for the elevator as he continues. “When you didn’t answer, I decided to come here and investigate.”
“W-why?” I’m trying to catch my breath.
“You owe me five thousand dollars,” he barks, hitting the button for the lobby. “I’m not letting you skip town without paying.”
“Oh my god.” I collapse against the walls of the elevator, my insides flooding with a mixture of relief and panic. “But… how did you find me?”
He’s digging in his backpack. “I was on my way to your room when I spotted that French guy from Miami. Put these on.” He shoves a pair of Toms at me, and I slip my feet into them. “He was coming out of the room where I found you. Did that motherfucker beat you up?”
I turn and let out a hissing sound when I see myself in the mirrored wall. My cheek is bluish-purple, my lip is split, and my teeth and knuckles are covered in blood.
“It was his pa
rtner,” I say, carefully touching my cheek. “Wade Paxton.”
“We’ll have to stop in the lobby bathroom—”
“NO!” I shout, my panic growing fiercer. “We’ve got to get to the track!”
“Are you crazy? It’s a fucking mob out there. We’ll never make it to the track. We’ve got to get to the airport.”
“You don’t understand, Seth! We’ve got to stop that race!”
“If the cops see you looking like this, they’ll arrest us.”
That makes me think… The police could help us faster than anyone. They could stop the race! But Wade threatened to kill Ava if I did anything.
“Where’s Ava?”
“My guess is she’s at the race—most likely in the royal box based on the company she’s been keeping.”
“Give me your phone!” We’re at the lobby, and the elevator doors open. A crowd of people fills the space, and the buzzing noise of the engines is louder than ever. I can barely hear myself think.
“The course runs right in front of the hotel,” he shouts. “It’s the famous hairpin curve.”
He takes my hand, leading me to the back entrance. We’re facing the ocean, and the noises are like zippers going high to low as car after car goes from full speed to near stopping as they negotiate the 180-degree turn.
“Your phone!” I shout. “Give me your phone!”
“Those guys will kill you, Zee. We’ve got to get out of the country.”
“Ava’s in danger! GIVE ME YOUR PHONE!”
Finally, he shoves the device in my hand, and I dial her number. I’m pacing, trembling all over as it rings and rings. “Answer the phone, Ava!” I shout.
Pressing the end button, I immediately try again. Same result. “Dammit, Ava!” Then I realize.
Switching to text, I quickly type: It’s me, Zee! Answer the phone! I need you to hurry! Rowan’s in danger! 911! 911!
Immediately the phone rings in my hand. “Ava!” I cry.
“Zee!” Her voice is frantic. “Where are you? What’s happening?”
“Stop talking and listen to me. Where are you?”