Shiloh hated the keening sound that ripped from his throat. Micah sat back to laugh at him. “You’re so pathetic. You didn’t really think I’d be stupid enough to fall for your little set-up…did you?”
How fast could someone’s heart beat before they just died of a heart attack? Shiloh wasn’t sure which was preferable. Being shot in the face or having his body just give up on him. He whimpered as he heard the click of a hammer cocking back, squeezing his eyes shut.
He waited for the gunshot. Would he be dead before he heard it? But, instead, what he heard was…Mal?
“Hey, big brother,” he purred. “You’re such a narcissist. You didn’t really think I’d be stupid enough to leave Shiloh here alone, did you?”
Shiloh’s eyes flew open just as Nico brought something heavy down on Micah’s head, then he became dead weight. They dragged him off Shiloh, Nico immediately yanking a cord from the lamp and securing his hands. Mal was on top of him then, hovering over him, turning his face left and right.
“Did he hurt you?”
Shiloh shook his head, but when he tried to speak, all that came out was another pathetic noise. Shiloh couldn’t stop shaking. He let Mal help him sit up.
Mal looked at Nico. “Any suggestions?”
“Look, the neighbors aren’t busy-bodies, but I think it’s safe to say Micah made a big enough racket for someone to call the cops. We have got to get him out of here before they show up.”
Mal didn’t argue, just slid his arm around one of Micah’s bound arms and heaved when Nico did the same, getting him to his feet.
“Wait, we can’t just go out the front door,” Mal said.
“The tunnels,” Nico recalled. “We’ll call Jericho from the basement, have someone come get us. Come get him.”
They took the lead, Shiloh stumbling behind, absently noting Naomi on the kitchen floor, clutching a bottle of wine in her hands. He tried to keep up, even with his mind in safe mode, doing only the bare minimum to keep his body moving. Everything seemed miles away—the hum of equipment, the hiss of some kind of pressure valve, even Nico’s and Mal’s voices. It was like he was at the bottom of a swimming pool, or a bomb had gone off right beside him.
They stopped just outside the basement door, dropping Micah on his face before Nico grabbed his phone from his back pocket. Shiloh just stood there, blinking. It was like he was in slow motion. Everything slowed way down. He sagged against the wall, only half-listening.
“Jericho? We’ve got Micah. Pick us up outside the tunnels?”
“What?” Jericho shouted, his voice blaring from the speaker. “What do you mean youhavehim?”
“Yeah, what do you mean?” Seven shouted.
Then, suddenly, Levi’s voice was right there. “Where’s Shiloh?”
“He’s here,” Mal said. “He’s fine. Physically, anyway, but I think Micah scared the fuck out of him. He’s…not all there.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” Levi shouted. “Give him the phone. Now.”
“Okay,” Mal said, taking Shiloh’s hand and placing the phone into it. Shiloh looked down at it but didn’t move. “He has the phone.”
“Shiloh, baby. Are you okay? Can you hear me? Can you talk to me?” Shiloh opened his mouth, but nothing happened, so he just closed it again. “Baby, you’re scaring me. I’m going to have someone come get you and then I’ll meet you there. Okay?”
Shiloh noted how frantic Levi sounded. He just felt buzzy. Numb. Everything tingled. “‘kay,” Shiloh said thickly, tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth.
“What’s the ETA on getting us the fuck out of here?” Nico asked.
“Twenty minutes, tops. We’ll meet you at the rendezvous point,” Jericho said.
The phone disconnected.
Micah groaned, flopping onto his back. Shiloh plastered himself against the wall. Micah watched Shiloh cower and began to laugh. A blistering heat raced through Shiloh, a rage so thick it choked out every rational thought he’d ever had. Micah’s laugh felt like it was echoing in his skull. He was laughing at him. Again. He was always laughing at him.
“You’re pathetic.”
“You’re embarrassing.”
“You’re so easy to break.”
