50 Shades of Drake 5 and 6

More Life: Chapter Twenty-Six

    When Aubrey returned to his hotel room, he found Carlos posted on the floor in front of the door to his suite. 

    As soon as Carlos spotted him, he popped up. His mouth was already posed to ask a question until he took in the music mogul's appearance. "You look like a candle that was made in your image and left out in one hundred degree heat for six hours."

    "I love coming back to compliments. Thank you."

    "And where were you?" Carlos demanded.

    "Even if your name were Dennis Graham, you wouldn't have the right to interrogate me like that," Aubrey said flatly, swiping his hotel key card and pushing open the door.

    Unbothered, Carlos followed close at his heels. Once the door clicked shut, he hissed, "You went to see her, didn't you?"

    "That is a topic we can no longer speak on," Aubrey said, making a beeline for the bathroom. "Ever. I couldn't allow you to...continue to be tormented, knowing what I knew. But we have to assume that we're being monitored at all times."

    Somberly, Carlos nodded and proceeded to watch Aubrey fumble around trying to remove the prosthetics that had been used as his disguise. With a roll of his eyes, he stepped forward. "Ugh, watching you remove this shit is giving me a complex. Let me do it."

    Aubrey stood as still as possible while Carlos helped him.

    "This is the last thing I'll say on it, but thank you for telling me," Carlos said softly while his hands deftly moved around Aubrey's face. "You didn't have to. You were probably worried about me fucking things up with my loud ass mouth. You could have run with that worry and just...not told me."

    "You were hurting as much as I was," Aubrey said, his voice low. Really, that was all that needed to be said.

    Once the prosthetics were removed, Carlos set to removing the makeup. "I know it's probably out of the question that I'd get to go with you next time," he said hesitantly.

    Aubrey's dark eyes flicked to meet his. "I'm taking a huge risk with it just being me. Both of us..."

    "Out of the question, probably," Carlos said, trying to keep the disappointment out of his voice.

    "Soon," Aubrey promised with his eyes still locked on Carlos's.

    Carlos nodded, a sad smile forming on his face while he finished removing the makeup. When he was finished, he took a step back and reviewed Aubrey's reflection. "Thank Christ, you no longer look seventy years old."

    Aubrey chuckled and held a clean washcloth under a steady stream of water in the sink. 

    "I should probably leave you to it."

    "Actually, I need a favor from you."

    Excitement bubbled up within Carlos. "Yeah?"

    "I need you to cover for me for the next few days," Aubrey told him after running the damp washcloth across his face. "Ugh I feel like this makeup shit is still all over my face."

    Carlos laughed and inspected the towel. "You barely have any makeup residue on there, meaning that it's close to being completely removed."

    "Ugh." Aubrey dragged the washcloth across his face again.

    Amused, Carlos folded his arms across his chest. "You were saying you needed me to cover for you."

    "Chubbs will know where I am, but he's the only other person who knows." Aubrey tossed a stern look at Carlos's reflection in the mirror. "That doesn't mean you can go around talking about this with him. No talking about this with anyone, I don't care how secure you think your location is or how secure you think a phone line is."

    "How the hell am I supposed to cover for you, though?" Carlos asked. "Tell them you're taking an extended bathroom break?"

    "You're creative. I know you'll think of something."

    A smirk started to curl Carlos's lips.

    Aubrey held up an index finger. "Anything other than that."

    Carlos rolled his eyes. "I can't even have fun with this?"

    "Absolutely not," Aubrey said, but couldn't keep from laughing. "On that note, I have a lot I need to do tonight. You should get some sleep."

    "I probably won't get much sleep tonight," Carlos said and another smirk started to form on his face.

    "I don't want to hear about that, either," Aubrey said with a firm shake of his head. "Goodnight, Carlos."

    Carlos flipped him the bird on the way out.

    With a shake of his head, Aubrey set to packing a bag. No suitcases. Nothing that would draw that much attention. Just the most basic-looking bag he had with him, one that didn't have designer logos crawling all over it. After packing clothes and hygiene products into the bag, he cranked out some work on his laptop. As much as he wanted to bring the laptop with him, he couldn't. It automatically attempted to link up to whatever Wi-Fi network was nearby. He didn't want to risk being tracked, and especially didn't want to risk being tracked to the location where Destiny was being hidden. So, he cranked out as much work as he could before his eyelids started to droop. Sleepiness kicked in, and he finally allowed himself about six hours of shut eye.

    The following morning he showered and did his best to apply his own disguise. If he'd been thinking, he would have asked Carlos to help with that, too. The odds of Carlos being awake before noon were low as fuck, so Aubrey struggled to reapply the prosthetics he'd worn the previous day. While he struggled, different concerns started to set in.

    For instance, what if the house Destiny was staying in was under camera surveillance? What if the FBI saw him as soon as he made his way into the house? What if there were additional agents watching the house who spotted him before he even made his way inside? In the interest of making sure his movements weren't tracked, he couldn't take his cell phone with him. That was a whole other concern. If Chubbs or anyone on his team tried to reach him, he would be unreachable. If anything in this plan went wrong, it would be tough for him to contact anyone who could help him out of the bind. That one fact should have worried him a lot more than it did.

    All of the worries he had were overpowered by the desire to see her again, to feel her again. He had gone so long without her touch, without hearing her laugh, without touching her skin. It was selfish of him, considering the stakes at hand, but he didn't want to go another day without touching her. 

    So, with his disguise haphazardly applied, his spennanight bag slung over his shoulder, a cap pulled down low over his eyes and all digital devices left behind, he left the hotel.