The next day, Kayden Scott set out for the East with two purposes in mind. First, to find any trace of Liam John, and maybe discover if he’d been seen at the John family estate. The second was to locate Maverick Quinn, the mysterious person Professor Flores mentioned, who supposedly could offer Kayden some kind of physical remedy.
Kayden opted for the simplest way to travel: a bus ride.
The trip from Inassea to the East would take a full day and night-a choice most people would only make if they had no other option. With all its bumps and jolts, the bus ride could be torturous, especially for those who get carsick. But Kayden saw it differently; he actually needed the rough ride to help regulate his breathing and maybe even loosen some of the blood clots lingering from his injuries.
Settling into his seat, he closed his eyes and relaxed, “enjoying” the journey.
Along the route, the bus stopped multiple times, taking on and letting off new groups of passengers.
By afternoon, the bus left the highway. The driver informed everyone, “There’s a landslide up ahead, so we’ll take a backroad. Same distance, but a bumpier ride.”
No one replied. The bus carried on. At first, the road was manageable, but soon the bumps started getting rougher, making some passengers start to feel queasy.
The bus was shaken with every jolt, and it wasn’t long before people started to vomit. Hours seemed to pass as dusk crept in. The landscape grew desolate; not a single sign of life in sight.
Suddenly, the bus came to a halt-something was blocking the road.
Curious, one passenger leaned over and whispered, “Are they checking our IDs?”
“Checking IDs?” another replied, “You think the cops carry knives and tattoos? Nah, buddy, this is a full-on robbery!”
The murmurs quickly erupted into panic, rousing even the drowsiest of passengers.
Outside, a hulking man with a machete was banging on the glass door, barking, “Everyone off! Pay the toll! Five grand a head, or you’re not going anywhere!”
Hearts racing, no one dared to make a sound. Wielding such an intimidating weapon in broad daylight, in such an isolated area, these men were clearly not bluffing.
The driver jumped up and, with shaky hands, addressed the crowd, “Don’t panic. These guys are… let’s call them ‘local enforcers’ who collect tolls. I’ve run into them a few times before! Just pay up, and they won’t hurt you.”
After he spoke, the driver muttered to himself, “Great, just my luck. Haven’t run into these guys in ages.”
No sooner had he finished than a passenger accused, “Hey, driver! Are you in on this? Did you lead us into this trap just so we’d pay them?”
The driver, flushing red with frustration, shot back, “You better watch that accusation! I’m paying, too! If you don’t want to, well, suit yourself!”
He climbed down, pulling a wad of cash from his pocket to hand over to the men.
Nearby, a Porsche SUV pulled up. Two burly men banged their blades on the vehicle’s windows, growling, “Out! Now!”
Out of the car came a young couple, both visibly shaken. The driver, a handsome young man of about 27 or 28, tried to mask his fear, though his legs were visibly trembling.
The woman beside him was striking, with a tall, curvy figure, chic short hair, a sleek black leather jacket, and a fitted skirt. Her stockings hugged her legs, giving her an air of sophistication that was hard to ignore.
The gang of thugs fixed their eyes on her, mesmerized. In this remote, desolate area, where they were used to rugged village women, she was a sight to behold-a city beauty they rarely, if ever, got to see.
As Ivy Taylor stepped down, she immediately opened the back door, lifting out a young girl, around four or five, who was sobbing uncontrollably. “Mommy, I’m scared of the bad men. I’m scared,” the little girl wailed.
With a shaky voice, Ivy Taylor held her close, whispering, “It’s okay, baby, it’s okay.”
Two days prior, Ivy had received word of her daughter Vivian’s father possibly being seen in the East. She wasted no time setting out to find him. Though she’d planned to fly, the weather had grounded her flight, leaving her no choice but to take the bus to avoid missing her chance.
As luck would have it, Kyler Clarkson was also heading East. After much persuasion, he convinced her to join him on the road.
Now, standing outside, Kyler nervously addressed the thugs with a grin, “So, it’s five thousand each, right?” As he spoke, he pulled out a thick stack of cash.
Kyler enjoyed flaunting his wealth-always keeping a stash of bills in his car to post on social media, reminding people that he was the young master of the Clarkson family in Inassea. Fifteen thousand was nothing to him; in fact, he was hoping this grand gesture might just win Ivy’s heart.
He’d known for some time that the picturesque villa area in Inassea was home to a beautiful widow, a single mother whose husband had died. Since his failed attempt to woo Nadia Garcia, his sights had shifted to Ivy. He’d heard that women like her were different from young girls like Nadia-something about an intensity that was just… incomparable.
And so, Kyler Clarkson began his elaborate schemes, spending a considerable fortune in hopes of charming her his way.