Highways & Hostages Read Online Free PDF

experience that he realized he had missed out. It turned into a recurring pattern. Finn envied the way Julian doted on Alex and the attention he received. He had never known his own father, who disappeared before his birth. Julian was good to him and taught him about every aspect of the art trafficking business as if he were preparing Finn to one day accept the reins. But Finn wanted more—he wanted what Alex had.
    Maybe that was what first drew him to Claudia all those years ago—the fact that she was with Alex. He knew what had drawn Claudia to him: He was exotic, her chance at rebellion. Finn didn’t go to boarding school or “summer” in Nice. His mother was an alcoholic with no interest in his life. He spent time in a juvenile detention center. But despite the reasons they’d gotten together, they worked.
    Finn shook away the memories, trying not to think about Claudia or that time in his and Alex’s friendship. Finn was envious of Alex, but he still thought of him as a brother. He stepped over to Alex’s bed and laid a careful hand on his shoulder.
    “Glad you’re okay, buddy,” Finn whispered.
    The door opened silently and Yvonne waved him over. With one last glance at Alex, Finn left the room.

SATURDAY
    ..................

FINN, 9:39 A.M.
    The tinny sounds of The Clash’s “I Fought the Law” drifted from Finn’s nightstand to his ear. He blindly scrambled for the phone. The woman in bed next to him stirred.
    “’Ello?” he said, groggy.
    “Meet me on the golf course in 30 minutes,” Julian said. The dial tone buzzed.
    Finn sighed in irritation and put the phone back on the nightstand before turning to his overnight guest. What was her name? Brenda? Brandy? Brittany? Ah, that was it, Brittany! He shook her shoulder gently but insistently.
    “Mmm?” she murmured.
    “You gotta go.” Finn swung his legs out of the bed, stood, and stretched.
    “What time is it?”
    “Time for you to go. I have a meeting,” Finn said, his tone businesslike. He pulled on a pair of discarded jeans.
    “But—”
    “I really have to go. Get up.” He strode to his walk-in closet and pulled out a navy V-neck.
    “It’s Bridget, not Brittany,” the brunette huffed as she gathered the sheets around her and sat up in the bed.
    “What?” Finn’s muffled voice asked through the shirt.
    “My name is Bridget. Not Brittany,” she said with a pout.
    “Right, Bridget. I am so sorry about that,” Finn apologized as he jammed his feet into his favorite pair of black Air Force 1s. He went to the bed and gathered her hands in his own. “Bridget, I will absolutely make this up to you, but this meeting is extremely important. You know I wouldn’t leave you if it wasn’t important.” Finn leaned forward and gave her a peck on the cheek before standing. Bridget smiled, stretched with a wide yawn, and lay back down.
    “Wait, wait, wait. What’s happening?” Finn asked.
    “I’m going back to sleep, silly.”
    “Sweetie, I don’t think you understand. I’m leaving, so that means you have to leave too,” Finn said, not brooking any nonsense. He picked her clothes up off the floor and piled them on top of her. This type of behavior was exactly why Finn hated relationships. He didn’t have time to baby anyone.
    “God, you are such an asshole,” Bridget spat. She hurriedly got out of the bed, still clutching the sheets around her naked body with one arm and her clothes in the other.
    “Good girl,” Finn said, grabbing his sunglasses and cell from the nightstand. Bridget was clearly going to be another name scratched out of his little black book. Oh well, there were plenty of others.

    After twenty minutes and further verbal abuse from Bridget, Finn strolled onto the sixth hole at Vista Palms Golf Course. He waited in silence while Julian lined up his shot. Julian’s longtime caddy, Jerome, stood off to the side and watched Julian’s progress. The ball rolled and stopped a good five feet in front of the