Through a door. Air conditioning cooling my cheeks. He rolls me so fast, I can’t see anything but a blur. But I think we pass through a big room, then down a hall. We stop abruptly, and Alec locks the wheels, grabs my bound wrists, and tosses me over his shoulder.
Stairs. Bouncing. My stomach pitching, bile burning the back of my throat. No A/C down here, and it’s stuffy. “The room’s all ready, Alec.”
Room? What room? And who…? Alec’s new lover. Dave? Don?Dennis.
I land on a mattress, then Alec’s face comes into soft focus. “Bring the chair down, lover,” he calls over his shoulder.
I don’t need the wheelchair.
But I do. My legs are numb. My arms too.
Alec yanks the tape from my lips, the pain clearing some of the fog from my thoughts. “Why?” I croak, my mouth so dry, my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth.
His stare holds nothing but pure contempt and rage, and he pulls a notepad and pen from his pocket and drops them on my thighs. “Write down the name of your bank and your login information. Plus the password for your computer.”
“No.” I can’t give himanything. He’ll use it against me. But as the small room starts to come into focus, any hope I had vanishes. No windows. A shower, toilet, and sink in one corner—all at the right height for someone in a wheelchair.
Alec rolls his eyes. “Are you really going to fight me, Quint? Another couple of days and the scopolamine and temazepam will have built up in your system and you’ll do anything I ask. If you don’t make me wait, your last few weeks could be almost…pleasant. Otherwise…”
He leaves the threat hanging, and I curl onto my side away from him.
“Your stupid little app is a bestseller. And you’re going to sign everything over to me.”
“Fuck. You. Not...the same...guy you…gaslit. Asshole.”
Alec grabs my chin, leaving fresh bruises on top of the ones he gave me back in the van. “You will be. And no one’s coming to save you this time.” He waves his phone screen in front of my face too fast for me to see. “Took care of big brother before I flew out to Seattle. Or…had Dennis’s friends take care of him. It’ll be a miracle if anyone finds him before the elements or his injuries do him in.”
I lunge for the phone, but topple over, my balance lost to fear and whatever drugs he gave me. “What...did you...do?”
The phone screen is right in front of my face now. My brother lies on an expanse of dirt wearing only his boxers, his face bloody, eyes closed, right arm broken, and blood pooling under him.
“Billy—I have you to thank for him, baby—was a cop. He came to enforce the order of protection you filed against me. We had a good six months before Billy decided life wasn’t worth living.”
I try to wriggle away from Alec, horror making my entire body tremble. “You killed him...”
Alec snorts. “Actually, I didn’t. That was all on Billy. He did some bad shit before he met me. But his buddies on the force? Including Dennis? Well, they were happy to help me out when I told them Connor had been the one to push Billy off that roof.” Tucking his phone away, Alec shakes the pill container. “Time for your meds. Then a nap. Need you looking better thanthisbefore the competency hearing in two days. It’s online, by the way. So don’t get any ideas about leaving me. You’re never doing that again.”
I should fight him. Try to push him away when he shoves the pills into my mouth and tells me to swallow them dry.
But I can’t. He hurt Connor. He stole me from my life so easily. No one but Graham will miss me, and no matter how good his team is…they’ll never find me.
In two days, Alec will have me so drugged up I’ll be a zombie. The judge will happily give him power of attorney, and then, he’ll get access to everything.
Tears tumble down my cheeks as Alec unlocks the handcuffs and cuts the tape around my ankles.
“Clean yourself up. You smell disgusting. I’ll be back with food in a few hours.” At the door, he plasters on that fake smile. “And if you try to remove that patch behind your ear, I’ll just make you a stronger one and tie you to the bed until you’re a drooling, incontinent idiot. So leave it the fuck alone.”
Thethunkof the lock is so loud, I flinch. Or maybe that’s the drugs kicking in. My legs won’t hold me, and there’s no way I can maneuver myself into the wheelchair, so I crawl towards the little bathroom in the corner. With every passing minute, my world shrinks a little more.
Please, Graham. Just take care of Clementine.
Each breath is harder. The air thicker. The plain, gray walls warp and ripple. Clawing my way to my knees, I turn on the shower and struggle to remove my pants and briefs. I won’t be good for anything in a few minutes, and I have to keep fighting as long as I can.
As I sink down onto my ass under the spray, I pull my shirt halfway over my head and stick my finger down my throat. My stomach is empty except for bile, so maybe he won’t notice. The water washes away the vaguely yellow liquid with at least half an undissolved pill, and I relish in my tiny victory. Even if it might be the last one I ever have.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Graham
