“You know,” Jesse huffed, his chest rising and falling with exaggerated breaths as he pushed his hair back from his eyes with both hands. The sandy strands were damp with sweat, sticking to his forehead in uneven patches. “This whole hostage thing you’ve got going? Not your best look.”
“Not a thing,” I retorted and positioned myself directly in front of his chair. “A fucking deadline.” I leaned in close enough to smell the motor oil on his skin. It was smart that he feared us. At least he had the wits to understand the gravity of the situation, or…perhaps he had another reason to sweat.
“I don’t care if your old man despises you. I don’t care if he’s willing to trade you for a bottle of whiskey and a busted carburetor.” My hands found the armrests of his chair. “You’re bait. But you’re also a key, Jesse. And I need a fucking door.”
He leaned back as far as the chair would allow, his spine pressing against the backrest. A scoff escaped his throat. “You keep acting like I’m part of this. Like I know what the hell he’s doing.”
“You do know.” My hands slammed down on the chair arms, and he flinched. “Maybe not details, maybe not names. But you’ve seen things. Heard things.” I straightened, pacing a tight circle around his chair.
Raine pushed himself off the pool table and grabbed a cue stick, twirling it in his hand. “If you weren’t involved, you’d be a lot more scared right now. You’d be pissing yourself and begging us to call your daddy.”
“Or a lot more cooperative,” Maddox muttered from behind Jesse’s chair.
Jesse’s gaze darted between the three of us. “You’re so wrong. You don’t get it.” He cleared his throat with obvious irritation. “He wouldn’t trust me with shit.”
I raised an eyebrow. “And you’re telling me he never slipped?Never had a phone conversation you overheard? Heard him talk about a place, an address?”
“Do you know how many secret phone calls he takes in a day? Do you listen to every conversation your father has? I just turn wrenches and collect a paycheck. That’s it. You’re wasting your time with me.”
I didn’t believe him. Not entirely, but he was right about my old man. “Prove it,” I dared. “Give me a name of someone who might know something. I don’t care if it’s a maybe.”
“So you can give them the same treatment?”
I stared at him, letting Maddox’s footsteps and Raine’s breathing fill the space. Let the tension push against his spine. Let him feel what it was like to be hunted, to be the prey instead of the predator.
“I will find her,” I said finally. “Maybe we’ll just have to see if your pops feels any love for you…his only son.”
His eyebrows climbed toward his hairline, and for a moment, some of his old cockiness flared back to life. “Would your father give a damn? You can torture me all you want, but it won’t bring her home.”
I offered him a smile that held zero warmth. “We’ll see.”
“Jesus,” he muttered, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. “You really think she’s still alive?”
The question hit me like a blade dipped in liquid nitrogen, slicing through my chest and leaving frost in its wake. For a split second, the world tilted sideways, and I was somewhere else, somewhere dark and cold where hope went to die.
But I didn’t flinch.
I didn’t look away.
I didn’t let him see the way his words had found their mark and buried themselves deep.
“She better be alive,” I said, my voice thundering through the room. “For your sake and your crew’s.”
Jesse blinked, specks of sadness gleaming in his eyes. “I hope she is, but girls have a way of disappearing in this town and never coming back.”
“And that’s your father’s doing. The man you’re protecting. You better hope to God I fucking find her before my patience runs out. Because if I don’t—” I held out my hand, palm up, and Raine dropped his blade into my waiting fingers. With a single graceful motion, I flicked the knife open, letting Jesse’s gaze linger on the steel. The corner of my mouth lifted as I flipped the weapon in my hand, sharp point down, and slammed it into his thigh. I made sure to avoid nicking anything vital so he wouldn’t bleed out, but it would still hurt like a bitch.
Jesse hissed, his head falling back as the pain registered.
I kept my hand on the knife so he couldn’t pull it out. “—you’ll be the next body no one finds.”
Jesse wouldn’t talk.
At least, not yet.
Blood covered my split knuckles as I flexed my fingers, feeling the sting of torn skin and the way my bones had jarred against his ribs with each impact. Still, the little shit had kept his mouth clamped shut, jaw set in stubborn defiance. His crew would be proud. Or…he actually didn’t know anything. The latter theory was fucking annoying. If I wasted time on him for nothing…
My chest heaved with each breath, rage coiling in my gut. I was out of patience. Out of time. Out of everything except the burning need to find her. “Handle him,” I grumbled at Maddox, peeling myself away from the wall. “Make him talk.”
