I'm not sure if Lev is trying to piss me off or wake me up to whatever he thinks reality is, but he doesn't know shit. “Chris can’t save her. I can.”
“Save her from what?” Lev asks immediately.
The suspicion has been twisting in my gut for the last twenty-four hours now. But I can’t confirm anything until I find Jessa.
“I left in a hurry,” I say. “So I didn’t let Yulian in on my plan, either.”
“Do you even have a plan?” Lev asks incredulously.
“Always. Where is my brother?”
“Fuck if I know. Balls deep in some hooker, if I had to guess,” he says. “I’ll have him call you when he emerges.”
“Actually, tell him that I’ll contact him if I need to. I want both of you on stand-by.”
“For?”
I glance out the window and notice that we’re losing altitude. “I’ve got to go. We’re landing soon.”
“Jesus, Ant, you’re really not going to tell me—"
I hang up while he’s still mid-sentence. The stewardess approaches me with a hopeful smile, but I turn pointedly towards the window and she retreats.
The landing is smooth. I’m at the door before the jet has even come to a complete standstill.
“Get the door open,” I order.
The attendant is smart enough not to argue with me. She wrenches the door open, and I jump the two-foot distance between the jet’s door and the rolling staircase that’s been brought out just for me.
I skim down the stairs. When I’m on the tarmac, I look around for the black Aston Martin I ordered to be waiting for me on the ground when I arrived.
The driver is shifting it into park. The moment he steps out of the car, I push him to the side.
“Keys?”
“They’re in the side of the door, sir.”
I get in, slam the door shut, and press my foot down on the accelerator. The engine roars and the car rips forward.
I speed through the narrow streets, checking the directions that I’ve hastily entered into the navigation system.
Forty-five minutes to Laurel Manor. But if I really step on the gas, I can make it there in twenty.
I’m coming for you, Jessa. Get ready.
* * *
I’m taking the corners in the road hard when my phone starts ringing. I pick up and Yulian’s voice comes through the moment I hit the speaker button.
“Is Lev lying or just high?” he demands. “Are you really in fucking England?”
“I am.”
“Where in England, specifically?”
“Where she is.”
“That’s really specific," he growls.