Free Fighting Me by Cat Mason Page A

terminal illness, for fuck’s sake. I’d gladly take her out, but I’d never last in prison. I’m just too fucking sexy not to be eaten alive.”
    “Nah, you’d be fine, just learn to walk at a slant with your ass pressed against the wall,” Mack laughs, before his face goes stone cold serious. “Just be sure you never let anyone yell surprise behind your back. This one chick I met back in college was locked up for a while. Well, she liked to do that before she’d…”
    “Is everyone all right?” I ask, interrupting Mack’s flashback moment and turn in my seat to check everyone over now that we are back on the highway.
    For the most part everyone is used to the craziness, but the kids have yet to really experience a lot of it. We tend to keep them sheltered for the most part. Camaron is on the phone trying to get some updates about what is being posted about the band from someone at the record label, while Aiden takes matters into his own hands and surfs the web on his phone. Daisy and Chase fuss over the kids while Hunter and Grayson watch the road behind us no doubt trying to decipher if we’re being followed.
    A question that I already know the answer to.
    Yes.
    The paparazzi never gives up on the guys. They are beyond resourceful and will do anything it takes to get their claws into a story. No matter the damage, no matter the cost.
    Especially Katheryn.
    My eyes stop on Rae sitting in the back corner of the van, her eyes cast downward on her lap. Even in the van full of people, I don’t miss her trembling frame. This has shaken her up.
    Turning back in my seat, I direct Mack to the marina so that we can get loaded onto the boat as quickly as possible and set sail. The media convoy behind us will make things more difficult, but that’s precisely why I plotted this out like I have.
    “You sure this scheme you plotted out with Aiden is going to work, Big Man?” Mack asks when we pull onto a gravel road that leads to a large white boat house.
    “Of course it will,” I say when one of the garage doors starts to raise. “Pull in there, Mack.”
    A tall man with shaggy blonde hair directs us inside, having us park beside a large white yacht being loaded down with boxes while the door closes behind us. “Hey, Henry, right?” he asks when Mack parks and I climb out of the vehicle.
    “That’s me,” I reply, shaking his hand. “Appreciate this a lot, Simon. We’ve already been duckin’ press.”
    “Don’t you worry about a thing,” Simon says when I turn and nod at Mack. Turning off the engine, Mack climbs out and joins us as Simon leads us to a wall of closed circuit monitors that show the entire lot. “See,” he points to the screens. “They’re all loading the lot and waiting to see which boat departs. Of course, they’re gonna see Wisteria leave and when they do, they’ll be tracking it to its destination.” He laughs. “By the time that damn boat makes the large meaningless circle and they figure out they’ve been duped, you’ll all be safe and sound on the island with no trace for them to sniff you out.”
    “Sounds like a damn good plan,” Mack says, watching the monitors.
    My eyes fixate on Katheryn as she climbs from the van, her cellphone glued to her ear as she talks. Her eyes scan the gravel parking lot and boat yard. I can’t believe that she is in charge of hunting us down after everything that happened. Grabbing my phone, I pull up the browser and type in the site. Clicking on the Shaft Spotter, I shake my head when I see a photo of Katheryn and me as a banner, the words, “all exclusive Shaft news from one of the few trusted insiders” written below it. My blood boils that she is continuing to use me and the band to make a name for herself, that she is trying to draw attention to me and a relationship between us that no longer exists.
    Clicking the check in tab, I see where she posted the timeline for today. The airport was reported by someone else, then the diner. When