Wilder
Page 96We circled around the officers, and I breathed a hell of a lot easier when they didn’t stop us.
“Oh, Mr. Wilder?” the officer called out.
Fuck. So close.
“No fucking way!” Bobby yelled, and I turned to see the camera wrestled away from one of the crew.
“What the hell?” I questioned the officer.
“Everything you did was legal, yes, but there was no permit for photography within the special bounds of the park,” the officer said with a shrug. “We’ll need to take any film you took.”
“The hell you will!” I roared. “We have every permission. We’ve seen to every permit, and you’re not taking our tape.” We’d just completed the toughest landing of my life, and there was zero chance in hell that they were taking the film.
“You have nothing to say about this, Mr. Wilder,” he said with a tight smile. “And you don’t want to fight us on this.” His voice was deceptively smooth.
The crew lost their battles as three cameras were confiscated. Landon and I locked eyes above Penna’s head. They hadn’t touched the GoPros attached to our helmets, which were all stored.
“This is bullshit,” I said.
“Now if you’ll hand us the cameras from your helmets, we can call this a day.”
“Over my dead body,” Landon bellowed, putting Penna behind him when they reached for her bag. “Don’t even try.”
I stepped in front of Leah. “Look, we have the permit. If it’s not there, it’s on our ship. If you would like to follow us back to the Athena, we can clear this up. If we can’t locate the permit there, or through your legal channels, we’ll hand over the footage.” My brain scrambled for anything that would keep this from escalating.
“There should be a record in your office,” Leah offered. “If we have the paperwork, then so do you.”
The officer didn’t even look at her. “You do not have the permits with you, now hand over the bags.”
“No.” I shook my head.
“Paxton, this isn’t the U.S.,” Leah whispered into my back. “You don’t have the same rights here, so be careful.”
I squeezed her hand to let her know that I’d heard her. Of course I knew that, but at the moment, they wanted what I’d busted my ass for—what our documentary desperately needed—and there was no chance I was giving it to them when I’d gone through hell for all that fucking paperwork.
“You do not get to tell us no,” the officer said, his eyes flickering over my right shoulder.
I spun around, a cold rage settling over me when I saw an officer wrench the bag away from Leah, shoving her to the ground in the process. Two steps and my fist was in his face, knocking him back. “Don’t fucking touch her!”
“No!” Leah yelled as two of the officers tackled me from the side, pinning me into the hard ground, tiny rocks cutting into my skin.
They yanked my arms behind my back as Landon picked Leah up off the ground, putting her behind him with Penna. Little John ran toward us while Bobby yelled at the men, but I heard nothing, simply saw the wide fear in Leah’s eyes as the same officer I punched walked over, flipped me to my back, and slammed his fist into my face.
“Paxton!” Her voice was the ringing in my ears as another blow fell.
I vaguely saw Landon holding her back, then Little John lifting her over his shoulder. They had to get her out of here. She had to be safe. They could take the fucking cameras as long as they kept their hands off Leah.
“I think one more to learn his lesson,” the biggest officer said, and the third punch was delivered.
Then I saw nothing.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Leah
“Where the fuck is it?” I screamed at Bobby, tearing apart the file in Paxton’s room—our room. He was anal about one thing, the freaking permits, so I knew it had to be here.
“Leah, we’ve looked everywhere,” Bobby said softly.
“How is that possible? Where are the permits for the rest of the trip?” I asked.
Landon leaned against the wall, his arms folded against his chest. “He keeps the permits in his fire safe, and only puts out the ones for the next stunt. You watched me check the box, and it’s not in there.”
“What are we going to do?” They’d picked up Pax’s unconscious body, and when Landon had moved toward the officers, one had pulled a weapon on him, which I knew was the only reason he’d calmly handed over the other cameras.
There was no chance he’d endanger Penna’s life, or—as I was learning—mine.
But they had Paxton, God-knows-where, doing God-knows-what to him. I didn’t know what the punishment was here for hitting a police officer. Or what we could do to help him. “Do we call the embassy?”
“The ship is on it,” Penna promised, her knees tucked into her chest. “I hate feeling so goddamned useless.”
Brooke put her arm around Penna. “He’s going to be okay. He’s Paxton Wilder. They’d be insane to do anything to hurt him—not with who his dad is. When can we get in to see him? We’ve got to find that permit, and then all of this will be cleared up.”