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“Your mum is going to be so bloody relieved. I need to call her.” Dad goes to move, then pauses. Scowling, he reaches down, and I realize his legs are taped together. “Just as soon as I get thisbloodytape off,” he roars, loudly enough to break the conversation in the front.

“Calm down, Farmer Joe,” calls the driver. I can hear him smiling, even if I can’t see his face. “And I’ve got your phone.” He waves it in the air.

“Wait.” I look between them all in confusion. “Someone needs to tell me what’s going on.” I frown at Dimitry, taking in his attire properly for the first time. “And why the hell are you all wearing those stupid clothes?”

“We had to make your dad look like a desperado cruising for bar girls.” Luke grins at me around his seat. “And I think the Hawaiian shirt suits Dimitry, don’t you?”

Given Dimitry’s grim expression, and the way he seems to be putting a lot of distance between his body and mine, I refrain from commenting.

“Give me my phone, Paddy,” my father growls.

“You can call the missus from the airport,” the driveranswers cheerfully. “Five minutes, by the way,” he adds to Dimitry in an undertone.

“Five minutes until what?” I frown between them. Dimitry is now sitting as far away from me as the SUV will allow, staring grim faced at his phone as his thumbs fly on the screen. “I told you I can’t go to an airport.” I try to breathe through the crushing despair I feel at his remote expression.

“Paddy will drop you and me off somewhere else in five minutes.” Dimitry’s voice is low and controlled, but he still doesn’t look at me. “I’ve booked tickets for your father and Luke back to Perth.”

“You’ve done bloody what, now?” My father lowers his head like a bull about to charge. “Where are you taking my daughter?”

“Dad.” I put my hand on his arm. “I can’t go through immigration here. I don’t have a passport, to start with.” I’m hunting around for an excuse when I become aware that Dimitry is taut as a wire, attuned to every word I say.

My internal red flag waves hard enough to knock me over.

No more lies, Abby.

I take a deep breath and look directly at my father. “Some really dangerous people will be chasing me, Dad. Even if I could go home, it would only lead them straight to you and Mum, and I won’t do that.” I think of my mother with a sudden, horrible lurch of fear and turn to Dimitry, panic choking my voice. “They could already be going there,” I whisper.

“Some friends of mine are on their way to your parents’ farm now, Abby.” Luke smiles reassuringly at me. “And I’ll be staying there until this is over. We’ll keep your parents safe, don’t worry.”

“What the hell?” My father glares around the car, then back at me. “You’re coming home, Abby. We’ll go straight to theAustralian embassy, get you a new passport. I want you where I can protect you.”

Oh, God.

Where do I even start?

The long years of my double life feel like a swamp reaching up to suck me down. I’m fighting for breath, trying to find the right words, when Dimitry turns to face my father.

“The people we’re dealing with won’t ever let Abby leave Thailand, Pete.”

Pete?I stare at Dimitry in surprise.

“People saw you asking questions about Abby earlier tonight,” he continues. “They’ll be looking for you, so with all due respect, the farther you are from Abby, the safer she’ll be. And the sooner you’re out of Thailand, the saferyou’llbe.” His voice is calm and respectful, but there’s no doubting the steel beneath it. “Paddy’s organized a boat for Abby and me,” he goes on. It doesn’t escape my attention that he still hasn’t looked at me. “I’ll work out what we’re facing. Once I’ve taken care of it, I’ll bring Abby home.” His mouth tightens. “I promise you that.”

Bring me home?

A cold, sinking sensation creeps over me.

Dimitry isn’t here because he wants me back.

He’s here because he’s trying to do the right thing. He’s trying to save me.

“Then I’ll come with you.” My father is glaring at him. “It’s the bloody least you can do, after locking me up with this mad bastard.” He nods toward the driver.

“Oi” comes the unruffled protest from the front seat. “Thismad bastardis the reason you didn’t get your head punched in by the triads. You’re welcome, by the way.”

Triads?

Oh, fuck. I never wanted any of this for my parents.