Chapter 4
Ichecked into the smallest, grimiest motel I could find located close to White’s compound.
Because I’d run out of fucks at the two-hundred-mile mark into the trip, the BMW motorcycle I’d…’borrowed’ from the resort’s parking lot was now parked in the motel room next to the bed.
I didn’t want anyone else taking it before I could return it to its rightful owner, nor for it to draw the attention of the cops.
Standing at the window, studying the world beyond the small crack in the curtain with a blank gaze, I flipped my phone over and over in my hand.
I’d sent Lila’s contact the message she’d told me to twenty-six minutes ago.
In the last twenty-five minutes, I’d prowled the small room, punched out three sets of fifty push-ups, showered, and studied the lay of the land around White’s palatial compound on my phone’s map app.
The compound itself was a pixelated blur.
How much fucking money or sway did a person have to make their property on Google Maps private?
The land around the compound was dense with trees and bush. It was perched on the side of a cliff, and there seemed to be only one driveway in and out from what I could tell.
I hadn’t approached it yet.
If I did, I knew I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from going in.
Ronnie was in there. I needed to get to her.
Going in alone and unprepared was moronic.
I was a lot of things, but not a moron.
What little information Lila had given me about Aloysius White told me what I needed to know—this situation was not something I could just kick and punch my way out of.
Saving Ronnie was my only goal here, and I was under no illusion I’d be able to do it alone. I needed Tacitus “Tac” Kole to achieve it.
Wait thirty minutes, Lila had said. Send the message and wait thirty minutes.
Chest tight, nerves so taut it was a wonder I didn’t snap, I flicked my phone’s screen a quick glance. Tacitus Kole had two min—
“G’day,” a deep male voice said in a strong Australian accent behind me.
I spun, fist swinging in a blurring arc.
A vice-like grip slammed into my wrist, halting my punch mid-strike, as a tall man with copper-red hair and the bluest eyes I’d ever seen grinned at me. “Whoa.” He laughed, eyes crinkling as he held up his free hand. “Sorry, mate. Lila warned me you’d be on edge. My fault for not listening.”
I yanked my wrist downward, taking his arm—and therefore his upper body—with it, as I drove my knee upward toward his face.
The red-headed man dodged my knee strike with a graceful dip to the side, and before I knew it, I was on the floor, flat on my back, his foot pressed to my chest, my wrist still in his grip.
“Sorry,” he said again, the tips of his fingers digging into the pressure point. “I should have introduced myself first.” He patted his chest with his other hand, grin relaxed. “I’m Tac.”
“Tacitus Kole?”
He nodded. “That’s me, although most of my mates call me Blue. Sometimes Blue Tac if they want to piss me off.”
Blue.
Blue should make sure everything’s okay.
Lila’s words floated through my head as I stared up at the man who’d put me on my back without—it seemed—even trying hard.