TerrorBrad was there right at the door in the car when they had finished. He had a bottle of Evian for Jarrod, which Jarrod sipped and then gulped down, memories of his Switzerland trip only six months ago coming flooding back. Brad was even looking after his hydration needs, how good was this? Brad had patched things up with the security guard at the gate and exchanged a joke and a handshake as he went through, announcing he had a special cargo, pointing to Jarrod. Jarrod smiled and gave a nervous wave. As the gate opened, Brad floored it, and the wheels spun and they left in a cloud of smoke, Jarrod’s hands clamped to the side of his seat. They were at the Lakeside in no time, and much to his amusement, Jarrod was early—that journey would have taken him twice as long if he’d been driving
