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Gray Thomas
Flight Leaving Las Vegas
Gray feigned sleep with his seat reclined, watching Guy through slitted eyes. Guy read a magazine, comfortable in the fact that Gray wasn’t an escape threat while they were in the air. The private jet gave Gray ample leg room. A luxury Gray hadn’t indulged in for quite some time. Usually he and Regan were cramped into coach seats while they traveled. Although, now that Regan knew about his trust fund, maybe he could talk her into a few upgrades.
Thoughts of Regan made his chest hurt. Gray momentarily forgot about the pain in his side. The stab wound was minor, barely a flesh wound, really, but it still ached. Guy had cleaned it and bandaged it the moment they entered the airplane. Gray now wore a T-shirt and jeans, the bloody clothes having been disposed of.
After catching a peek at the flight plan, Gray had left a clear message for Regan. He only hoped she would pick up on it. Knowing her, she had likely retreated into herself before taking action. But, hopefully, not for long.
Gray sent up a silent prayer that she was smart enough to follow the clues and not dumb enough to come alone. His father, Michael, would insist on accompanying her, but Gray hoped Regan would leave him behind. Guy wanted Michael to hurt. If Regan showed up with him in tow, she could get hurt in the crossfire. Gray couldn’t live with that.
Liam and Jax had been attending the show. Liam would make a good choice to bring with her. He was a police officer and trained to handle himself. Jax would slow him down, but Regan would be able to keep up. She’d spent years backpacking around the world with Gray. Regan would feel right at home navigating the local towns and following the clues Gray would leave for her.
It was too much to hope that Regan would stay back and let professionals do the dirty work. Gray knew her too well. Right now, she was probably bossing around his father and Uncle Frank and causing a huge stink. Gray smiled at the thought.
“Would you care for a beverage?” The flight attendant spoke softly in case Gray really was asleep. He opened his eyes and asked for water and a snack. The attendant smiled at him before walking back to the galley.
Gray needed to eat and drink whatever he could now. And rest. Once the plane landed, he had every intention of escaping. He had to keep Regan from walking—no, running—into a dangerous situation. One, or both of them may end up hurt. He wouldn’t allow that. When he escaped, he’d be able to watch for her arrival. Hopefully, she brought enough money or a credit card to get them back home again.
Anger swelled inside him towards his father. What was the man thinking hiding Guy for all these years? Gray knew, though. Michael had wanted control. He’d wanted to be the big dog. Hiding Guy was the ace up his sleeve.
The attendant returned with a bottle of water and a turkey sandwich. Gray removed the small table from the armrest, flipping it up and over into position. He raised his seat from the recline, thanked the woman, and prepared to eat.
“So, where did dear old Dad set you up all this time?” Gray asked casually between bites. Guy turned toward Gray. Dead eyes stared back at him before returning to his reading material. “Not a talker, are you? Okay.” Gray took a bite of his sandwich and ignored Guy.
“Your father hasn’t filled you in on the family secrets? Never a good idea to keep secrets from those who will one day reign.” Guy flipped the page on his magazine. Guy’s voice had a hint of an accent. Gray guessed he spent little time speaking English these days. Spanish was probably his daily language based on their destination.
“I’m not in the family.” Gray emphasized the word.
“It’s not a life you can just walk away from. I should know,” Guy said pointing at the scar on his head. “I tried to leave once and my best friend cracked me with a hammer.”
“Uncle Frank?” Shock showed on Gray’s face. He’d heard Guy and Frank talking about it at the theater but still found it hard to believe. “He really did leave you for dead?”
“Looks like it. All I wanted was out with my Gracie and our baby,” Guy said, flipping another page on his magazine. “Instead, I’m in even further.”
Gray didn’t know what Guy was referring to so he didn’t say anything. A part of him felt for Guy. How would I handle having Regan ripped away from me? Not well, he decided.
“Imagine my surprise when you and your fiancée walked into my place? I believe she was just your girlfriend then.” Guy still didn’t look at Gray, but Gray openly stared at him, not knowing what Guy was talking about.
“Your place?”
“I own a small hostel in the jungles of Honduras. On a regular day, nothing special about it, you walked in my door.” Guy chuckled. “Scared me, honestly. You bear a striking resemblance to your father. My heart almost stopped. I thought he’d finally found me. I thought my existence was coming to an end. And before Michael could even fulfill his promise to me.”
Gray put his sandwich down. He stared at Guy, trying to remember him, but couldn’t place him. Gray had no memory of ever meeting this man before. Regan and Gray had stayed in hundreds of hostels over the years. Gray couldn’t keep them all straight, let alone the employees.
“You don’t remember?” Guy smiled, warmth flooding his eyes. His face lit up. A twinge of recognition flashed in Gray’s eyes but he still couldn’t place him. “Imagine me with a full head of hair, amigo.”
Enlightenment dawned in Gray’s eyes. “Garcia?”
“Si. You remember? I was banking on the fact that a different look and surroundings would confuse you. It worked to my benefit that so many people don’t remember a person when they are seen out of context.”
Just as quickly, Garcia was gone. Dead, dark eyes stared back at Gray. Gone was their friend from the hostel. In his place, the man out for revenge.
“That’s quite a talent.”
“I learned it from your father. He blends well in society, no?” Guy asked.
Gray let the comment slide. The only side of his father that he’d ever known was the Michael who blended into society. The caring, loving, doting father. Until recently, Gray hadn’t realized just how ruthless his father was.
“Why would my father put you in a hostel? That’s not his style,” Gray asked.
“He didn’t. He dropped me in Colombia with some of his associates. I played nice for about year, plotting my revenge, before I took off.”
“He hasn’t known where you were this whole time?” Gray asked. His sandwich completely forgotten now.
“Nope.” Guy laughed. “I made him promise that one day I would get to return and seek revenge on Frank. He’s had the last twenty-nine years to wonder when it would be and if it would affect him, too.” Guy put down the magazine. The charade was over. He’d been planning his revenge alone for decades and now he finally had someone to share it with.
“So, you bought a hostel?”
“Yes. But first, I made friends. Friends with money and airplanes.” Guy motioned with his arm. “I made contacts. You don’t grow up in the mafia without learning a few things.”
Gray’s eyes moved to the flight attendant. She showed no reaction to the mention of the mafia. She sat facing us, but far enough away to give the illusion of privacy. A smile was plastered on her perfect face.
“Don’t worry about her. She works for far scarier people than us.” Guy waved his hand toward her.
“The cartel?” Gray asked, but he didn’t really want to know. He gulped at the thought of Regan running headlong into a drug cartel. With her mouth and attitude, she’d be dead in minutes. Gray decided to double his efforts of escape when they landed. “You run drugs for them.”
“Well done. You have the mind for the game. Americans love their drugs, so we have to get them north somehow. What better way than I? I have hundreds of backpackers and travelers coming through my hostel each week. Extra traffic isn’t noticed.”
“But you wanted out. You tried to leave. Yet, you still ended up in the lifestyle?”
“I wanted revenge more.”