“He fucked up and gave me an office right across from his. I’ll just make sure I’m only at work when he’s there.” I rubbed my thumb across Tatum’s teeth marks on my hand. Fuck, I’d missed her. “I doubt he’ll burn down his own house or put my mom in danger. He does halfway give a shit about her.” Not enough to be faithful to her, but enough to keep her alive.
The dancer bent over in front of us and ran her hands up her calves then between her thighs. Chandler gave her ass a smack, then turned back to our conversation.
“What else would he do?” he asked. “What are we forgetting?”
“Plane crash.”
“You planning on going anywhere soon?”
I had one place in mind, a small island off the coast of Barbados, but I needed to make sure I got the money first because chances were once I was there, I wasn’t coming back. I also needed to earn Tatum’s trust. I wasn’t leaving without her. Once all that was in place, Chandler could help me with the rest—fake passports and whatever else we would need.
“Nah, but that doesn’t mean he won’t send me somewhere if he wants to make it happen. Especially if I dodge every other bullet.” I smirked. “So to speak.”
“So, we set you up with a lookalike. The lookalike gets on your plane while you get on a different one at a completely different airport.”
“Then the lookalike dies.”
“That’s the nature of the game, bro.” He took his beer from the server when she walked in. “Trust me. He won’t be an innocent player. I know some pretty fucked up people.”
It was good to know we were only killing fucked-up people now. Christ.
“So, what? We just have this dude on stand-by?Hey, wanna fly to Paris for the weekend?”
He took a drink. “Why not? These guys don’t exactly work nine-to-fives or have families to take care of.”
This motherfucker may have been more heartless than I was.
“So, it’s set, then.” I knocked back the rest of my drink.
Chandler smiled like a kid on Christmas. “It’s set.”
And just like that, it was done. We had a plan in place to keep me alive until I could get Tatum and me the fuck out of here. All I had to do now was meet with Jonathon Bradshaw and establish a successor trustee—some judge his father grew up with—to handle my trust in the case of any “accidents.” Because while I had the means to make sureIstayed alive, I had a feeling there wasn’t much I could do for Bradshaw.