Quinton
Thethunkof the door lock is so loud, I jerk and force my eyes open. The ceiling is nothing but plain, gray cement, and the air is stuffy and cool. I’m in a bed, but it’s not mine. Rough sheets. The smell of bleach.
“Time for your meds.”
Alec. He breezes in and sets a tray on the bedside table. I blink up at him, at the bright smile, the gray eyes. I shouldn’t be here. I left him. Escaped. Didn’t I?
“I brought you lunch. Grilled cheese, a cup of tea, and your meds.” The pills tumble into my palm. Three of them. Just like always. “Drink up.” Holding the cup of tea close to my lips, he waits, eyebrows raised. “Now, Quint.”
This side of him, the edge to his voice? It scares me, and I try to set the pills down, but he stops me.
“You need these. You know you do.”
“I don’t.” My words are slow, but when I try to sit up straighter, my back spasms, and agony shoots down my legs. Gasping, I double over, and Alec shoves the pills into my mouth, grabs my hair to pull my head back, and pours some of the tea down my throat.
I swallow before I realize what’s happening. Deep down, IknowI should fight him, but I’m so confused.
“Drink. The whole fucking thing,” he snaps and hands me the tea. “Right now.”
The threat is clear. If I don’t, he’ll just force me, so I collapse back against the pillows and drain the cup. It’s bitter and disgusting, so when he shifts the tray closer, a plate with a golden brown grilled cheese in the center, I don’t hesitate. My stomach is hollow, and I won’t be good for anything soon if I don’t eat.
“You...took me.” Tears gather in my eyes as Alec looms next to the bed, watching me take a bite of the sandwich. God, I’m so hungry I could eat three of these. “You and your latestconquest.”
He laughs and glances back at the open door. “After how you left me? How you ruined everything we had together? I deserve to be paid. You were just going to waste that money anyway. Like you’ve wasted your whole life.” He drops a small stack of paperwork on the tray. “Now sign these. Everywhere that’s highlighted in yellow.”
I squint at the type. So small. And blurry. “What is this?”
“Does it matter?” The pen lands next to the papers, and I just stare at it until Alec leans down and cups my cheek. I try to jerk back, but he doesn’t let me move. “Don’t fight me on this, Quint. In another thirty-six hours, I’m going to own you. Completely. Is one little act of rebellion truly worth making me angry?”
No. Because he’ll get what he wants anyway. He always does.
So I sign. Even though the words don’t make much sense. By the last page, I think I’ve figured out what this is. Transfer of ownership paperwork. For my company. When I’m done, I’m so very tired. Curling on my side, I don’t know how long it’s been. What time it is. All I know is that I’m alone, confused, and terrified of what he’ll take from me next.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Graham
I part the drapes,binoculars in hand, and peer across the landscape. Three miles away, the single-story ranch house sits behind a chain-link fence, all the curtains drawn.
The RV we picked up just outside of Salt Lake City is a piece of shit. The dealer left air fresheners hanging all over the fucking place. “New Car Smell” might be okay in small doses, but there must have been twenty of the damn things stashed in cabinets and hanging from the light fixtures.
Who did the dealer think he was kidding? No one would ever believe this piece of shit was new.
Ry threw them all away within seconds of paying the guy, and now, the cloying scent is slowly being replaced with that of stale cigarettes and something very,veryrotten.
West stares at his laptop screen, his fingers tight on the joystick in his hands. The drone makes a wide circle around the house, taking a detailed thermal scan. We need some idea of what we’ll face when we breach.
“Two heat signatures on the main floor,” he says, maneuvering the drone so it lands in a tree a good five hundred feet away from the house. “Moving around well enough. Package is likely in the basement. Lying down, from the looks of it.”
I have to see for myself and twist the laptop to face me. “Alec has a partner? Fuck.” Tapping my earbud, I wait for the telltale beep. “Golf to Base. You seeing this? Who the hell is he working with?”
“On it,” Wren says. “Give us an hour or so.”
My fist slams into the table, rattling a water bottle and the various tools scattered over the Formica. “Dammit. We have to get in there now.”
“Negative.” Ryker slides his tablet in front of me. “With the power that place is pulling? And the wifi signals we can see from three fucking miles away? Harrow built himself a goddamn fortress with so much security, he’d know we were coming the second we jumped the fence.”
Blueprints fill the screen, along with orange and green lines for the tripwires and sensors Ry’s identified in the hour we’ve been here.
