Submitting to My Best Friend's Dad by Scarlett Rossi
Chapter 151 -

Весса.

I stormed past Layla and the kids, going to my room. Neal was right, I was lucky we had packed everything. I might have thrown things, otherwise.

The door to the bedroom opened, however, before I could lock it.

"Becca," James said in a warning tone, "we really don't have time for this."

"We're going to make time," I replied, folding my arms over my chest. "I can't believe you'd just show up here, thinking I'd f*cking prance away with you like some mindless bimbo."

James took a deep breath. "I don't think you're a mindless bimbo. But I do think you're rather stupidly fighting with me right now when you should be getting yourself and the children out of danger. You want to scream at me? Hit me? Accuse me of God knows what? F*cking fine, Becca, but do it on the jet."

I bit back a why-would-I-go-anywhere-with-you retort. James was right. We needed to leave before Neal's past came to our doorstep. I'd learned that the hard way with Xavier Michaelson in the grocery store parking lot. I was going with James before something dastardly happened to the children. Or my parents. Or Layla. Or me.

"Don't think there's not a stiff right hook waiting for you on the plane," I muttered, gathering two suitcases and pushing past him to get to the door.

"I wouldn't expect anything less," James replied. But I could hear the smirk in his tone.

I grumbled under my breath, tugging the suitcases away when James tried to take them from me. He was hot, and I missed him, and I was glad he was alive. And a big part of me wanted him to kiss me, or perhaps drill me against a wall for old time's sake. But he was also a snake who'd let me grieve him, missing moments of our child's life. Of Alessandro's life. He didn't get to be chivalrous today.

One of his men held out his arms for the suitcases, and I passed them over with a pointed look at James.

He shrugged, trying not to smirk at me as he got exactly what he wanted. But the corners of his lips kept twitching upwards.

"Oh, sit on it and spin, James Valentino," I muttered, following James's men out. I recognized Neal's men and waved as I passed them. They were helping load the boat. Layla had Dahlia in her arms and Alessandro in a stroller in front of her.

James looked longingly at the children, but, as he said, we didn't have time for that, either.

"Mr. Woods, if you would kindly board the boat," James said to my father.

My father's scowl was the darkest I'd ever seen on any man. I took a step back, shocked. "Why would we go anywhere with you?" my father voiced my earlier objection. "You're not safe here," James explained tiredly. "There's been an incident-"

"Screw you and the horse you rode in on! I want more than that. I deserve that. My daughter especially deserves that," my father yelled, his fists balled at his sides.

I sighed. "Dad, please just get on the boat. James will explain on the plane."

"Plane?" my father repeated.

"Yes. Plane." James turned to a man who'd begun hovering next to him as soon as he left the house. "Tony, if Mr. Woods is unwilling to board the boat of his own free will, please make sure he makes it aboard." Tony nodded. "Yes, sir."

My father's face turned plum purple, but James was already turning to another member of his guard. "Yes, Alfonso?"

"Sir, we found this in the baby stroller. You said to do a thorough sweep..." Alfonso said, handing over some sort of small electronic device.

James took it, and his features hardened. "Everyone on the boat, NOW!"

"But our things—" I began.

James grabbed my arm and dragged me towards the boat. "I'll buy you something new. Anything you want. But there's no time!" He tossed the device back at Tony.

Tony dropped it on the ground and crushed it under his heel.

"What was that?" I asked a random suit when James went to corral Layla and the kids.

"Tracking device," the man grunted. "Take a seat, miss. It's a long ride to the airstrip."

"Airstrip?" I asked as Layla sat down beside me on one side, my father and stepmother on the other.

"Yes, miss. Can't go to an airport. Too easy to infiltrate," the man said.

"Cristofori, get everybody secure. We're going, and it's going to be rough," James ordered, taking a seat across from me next to Tony.

The man I'd been talking to, Cristofori, made sure we were all accounted for and given life jackets. He'd barely made it to a seat himself next to Tony when the boat took off.

In the distance, I could see another boat coming towards the island.

"Could that be Neal?" I asked James.

"No," James said through gritted teeth. "That's not Neal."

I swallowed hard and took Alessandro from the stroller, holding him in my arms as Layla held Dahlia.

James's look of longing returned but was then replaced by a hard, ruthless demeanor. "If they approach, shoot to kill."

"Yes, sir," Tony agreed, taking a gun from under his jacket.

Cristofori and the other men James had brought with him did the same.

"I'd really feel more comfortable if you didn't draw weapons around the children," my father said, frowning at the bristling of guns around us.

"I'd really prefer we all make it to Italy alive. Guess whose preference is going to win out?" James replied harshly to him.

My father seemed about to argue further, but I put a hand on his arm. "We'll work it all out on the plane," I promised.

The other boat swerved away from its path towards the island when they spotted us. My heart pounded double-time in my chest.

"Don't worry," James said, touching my knee. "I won't let anyone harm you or the children."

I bit my lip, wondering if this was a promise like the ones Neal had made sincere, but ultimately breakable. Then again, this was James, and by the determined set of his tan jaw, I knew he believed in what he said. I had no choice but to believe it, too.

Just as the boat pursuing us got close enough that we could see the number of its occupants, it veered away sharply. I thought I saw guns on that boat, but their numbers were far inferior to the number of men James had brought. They probably decided discretion was the better part of valor.

James made a motion, and all the guns disappeared into various hidden holsters.

Choppy waves bounced the boat around, but once the other boat disappeared from sight, our speed decreased, and we coasted at an easier pace to a small harbor on a side of New Zealand I'd never seen before.

We came to a stop next to an old, yet well-maintained, dock. More of James's men met us there.

The men in the boat disembarked, with Tony snapping orders at them, informing them of the situation. Some took the bags we'd managed to get on the boat before we left.

My father helped my stepmother off the boat, and Cristofori helped Layla, who was still holding Dahlia.

James held out his hand to me.

I considered rejecting it. He really didn't deserve to be the chivalrous knight in shining armor at this point in our tale. But I was holding Alessandro, and I didn't want to drop the one-year-old in the water just because I'd been too stubborn to take James's hand.

"Just so you know, I'm still mad at you," I grumbled, allowing James to get me from the boat to the dock. The touch of his hand was enough to send fire through my blood.

It really had been a long time.

We were all packed into SUVs, James and Tony with Layla, the children, and I. My father and my stepmother went in an SUV with Alfonso and Cristofori.

James took shotgun while Tony drove. Layla and I sat in the back with the children.

"Hang on," James warned as we started going over rugged terrain. His hand was wrapped firmly around the "oh shit" bar.

"Just where is this airstrip?" I asked, bumping shoulders with Layla.

Alessandro giggled as the SUV pitched to and fro, thinking it was the best ride ever.

Miraculously, Dahlia slept through it all.

I decided they must have James's strong, unflappable genes.

"It's out of the way," James replied cryptically.

"Right," I muttered. Even more secrets. For all I knew, it was a landing strip for a drug cartel.

When I saw the asphalt strip in the middle of the woods, with barely enough room around it for the planes to take off and land, I blinked. I decided my guess probably wasn't too far off. It was definitely "out of the way."

The SUVS all stopped in a long line as though it was a presidential motorcade. James got out, as did Tony and the others.

I started to open my door, but James leaned his hip against it. "We need to secure the area first."

Seething, I waited for the men to fan out and check around the jet. Once an "all clear" call went up from all sides, James finally opened my door.

I stomped out, pushing past him to carry Alessandro to the plane, Lyla, my father, and my stepmother in my wake.

James seemed perfectly happy with this turn of events as some of his men hopped ahead of us and a circle of defenders closed around us. Cristofori stood at the top of the stairs to the jet and waved us aboard. The jet was large enough to accommodate nineteen passengers, and James made sure every seat was taken.

"What about the rest of your men?" I asked.

"They're going to the airport," James replied.

"Oh." I looked around at the men who had joined us on the plane. I imagined they were James's best. "So, we're flying straight to...?"

"Italy. And no, we'll have to stop to refuel in Indonesia," James said. His eyes speared mine. "We will not be disembarking the plane."

"Hmph." I was secretly fine with it, but I didn't like James making these decisions for me. "Where in Italy are we going?"

"My uncle's compound in Sicily. Buckle up, we're taking off," James replied.

I buckled myself up and held Alessandro in my lap. Layla did the same, only holding Dahlia in her arms.

As we lifted off, I looked down at New Zealand with a sense of sadness. I had made my home here, and that home was being taken from me.

"It's not as though we can never come back," James said slowly. "I just need to get some things in order first."

I wiped a tear from my eye and shook my head. "Don't make promises you can't keep, James."

"Who says I can't keep it?" James responded, his eyes narrowing.

"I've been around the block too many times now to believe in any bullshit you alpha men keep trying to feed me," I murmured. "All you do is break my heart."

James's nostrils flared, and he reached across the aisle to take my hand. "Becca, I swear on my life, I will replace a way to make you happy."

I tugged my hand away. "Don't say things like that."

"Why not?" James asked, looking at his hand in confusion.

"I'm in charge of my own happiness, and the happiness of these children. That's my purpose now-to make sure these children have a good life. I thought I could make one for them in New Zealand. But associating with criminals has destroyed everything good I've ever tried to build."

I looked James dead in the eye. "When this is all over, I want out. For me and the children."