Adam gives a lackadaisical wave of the scalpel over his shoulder. As much as I’d love to stay and continue watching him in what is clearly his zone, every minute my people, especially my wife, are missing is another fraying string of my tenuous sanity snapped.
“Recently, the two heads of the organization were killed. Their names were Edgars Kruminš and Aivars Balodis. They trafficked people all over the world. Some smaller gun running and drug smuggling, but their biggest profits were in people. Apparently, they named successors. Four successors.”
Cal is typing so quickly on the keyboard that it feels like the keys should be smoking, but he’s looking intently at the screen.
“Do we know who the successors are?”
“That’s what I need you to find out, but prioritize finding what you can on my mom, Abbi, and John. I just...I need to know they got out alive. Chances are, they have them and plan to use them to get to me. It’s just...it’s not like guys like this to go through all this trouble for one problem. There’s something I’m missing, and we can’t fuck this up.”
My words are choppy, the more I think about what could be happening to them...to my wife. Cal turns to look at me now.
“She’s Belle’s people, too. That makes her our people. You’ll see. It’s good to be our people.”
“Find my family, and I’ll be whatever you want.”
“On it, Post Man.”
My steps halt on the way to the door, and I briskly turn back to face the big man at the computer.How does he know that name? I know Jax and Marshall wouldn’t spill my secrets.
“Took you a while to get here. I got bored. Oh, and I’m good.”
“Hmmpf.” My answering smile causes his to widen.This guy. Damn it. They’re cornering me. Trying to suck me into their vortex of male weirdness. Fuck. It’s working.
Chapter 39
Vaughn
The first thing I’m aware of is how hard it is to breathe.Damn it.My upper body aches. All of it, and my face is throbbing. Pretty sure I have a broken rib or two. The area around me comes into focus, and I see they’ve moved me again.Where am I?It’s pretty damn jarring to know that these people have repeatedly had me at their mercy while I’ve been unconscious.
Did they take me to wherever they’re from? Could I be in Texas? Shit. Please let this be Texas.
Waking up this time is different than the other times. I’m alone. They clearly don’t care about my comfort because I’m lying on the cold, hard floor of the half bath I’m in. Hands behind my back, knees still bound together. Ankles, too.Shit.Trying to roll to my front ignites a sharp pain that radiates from my hip, nearly causing me to blackout. The accidental groan I let out hopefully isn’t loud enough to alert anyone that I’m awake. I need time to find a weapon or something to cut these binds.
Looking around, I see they likely chose to toss me in here because there’s nothing obvious to arm myself with. It takes many painful shimmies to position myself in front of the small vanity.Nothing. Two spare rolls of toilet paper and dust. That’s it.
Come on, Vaughn. What would Eli do if he were here?
Rule number one: stay calm. Panic turns a bad situation deadly.
Rule number two: stay alive. If that means lying or swallowing pride or leaving someone behind. Do it. You can’t help anyone if you’re dead.
Rule number three: a weapon can be found anywhere. You just have to be looking.
Rule number four: remember their names and faces and hold on cause Baby...I’m coming for you.
He’s coming and that’s exactly what they want.I’m just the bait.Can’t let that happen.I inhale a deep, mostly calming, partly painful breath and survey my surroundings with new eyes.Bath rug, vanity, doorknob, toilet seat. Shit, shit, shit. Bath rug, vanity, doorknob, toilet seat...toilet paper mount. Fuck yeah!! Okay. Shit. How do I get it down?
I know exactly what I have to do to get it down, but just the thought of contorting my body into the necessary positions brings tears to my eyes.It’s okay. It’s okay. Rule number two. Just stay alive.There’s no way of knowing how long I’ve been in here or how long it will be before someone comes back for me.There was the car. Then, the plane. Now, here. Where even is here? Is this the final destination? Or do they plan to move me again?
Just move, Vaughn. Just move.Slowly lowering back to my side is a lesson in self-torture. Normally, I’m pretty flexible, but right now it feels like every muscle in my body has been tenderized and every tendon has been tightened to an inhuman degree.
“Mmm. Damn.”This hurts. I’m on my side, but it takes several deep breaths before I can start to fold into myself and work my bound hands around my ass. Never in my life have I cursed this ass until now.
“Humph.”Got it.Looking down at my hands, I can see that they’re tethered with the same silver tape that binds my knees and ankles.
Two screws affix the mount to the side of the vanity. The tears that’ve been welling up since I woke finally fall when I squeeze my eyes shut in relief. The elation must work like a salve on my beaten body because I feel nothing but hope as I push and pull on the small piece of metal. Quickly, it starts to give, and there is a small space between the head of the screws and the vanity. Three more hard tugs, and it’s free.
As soon as I’ve slipped the screws from the piece of metal, I hear voices just outside the door.Fuck. I was too caught up in getting the screws. I didn’t hear them coming.Shit. The screws slide easily into the waistband of my leggings. They’re well concealed, but the sharp tips poke my skin.Doesn’tmatter. I have to move quickly. If they come through that door and see me over here, they’ll check this side of the vanity and see the broken mount.The screws are my only chance.I can’t let them see.
