Quinton
The basement door opens with a slam, and Alec stalks into the room, slides his arm around Dennis’s waist, and stares down at me. Five minutes ago, the two burst in and Alec told me if I made a single sound, Dennis would shoot me in the foot after Alec killed the pretty young thing who just asked to use the phone.
For a split second, I thought maybe Graham had come for me. But then my fuzzy thoughts caught up with reality. Alec knows what Graham looks like. If the ‘pretty young thing’ had been Graham, Alec would have killed him on sight.
The woman’s voice got closer for a minute at the end, and I thought I heard her say “rescue.” But I don’t trust anything anymore. I’m a coward. Not to mention stupid. And helpless. When I move, the room spins and I feel like I want to throw up.
With every patch and pill, more ofmevanishes. He forced me into a pair of cheap sweatpants and a thin, gray t-shirt, and I can’t smell anything but his cologne. He took my company. Probably has my money now too.
Tears burn my eyes as the two of them leave and lock the door. How did I end up here? Three days ago, I was free. I had the man I love in my bed. My kitten purring at our feet. My own clothes. My own space. Now? I’m nothing. No one.
He made me disappear, and no one’s ever going to find me.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Graham
“Shut up.”West holds up his hand, then cranks the volume on the laptop.
“Time for your meds, Quint. Take them or I’ll shove them down your throat.”
Q begs Alec to leave him alone, and my heart crumbles into jagged pieces. The sun is dipping towards the horizon, but it’s not low enough for us to gear up yet.
“I need some air.” I can’t handle hearing another second of Q’s suffering when I have the power to stop it. But before I can make it out the door, the sound of a rotary dial telephone echoes through the speaker, followed by a man’s greeting.
“What?” the voice asks.
“Tell me no one’s found that hulking piece of shit.” Alec’s words are so clear, it’s like he’s in the RV with us.
“He’s got a second accomplice?” Ry taps his earbud to connect to Wren. “Get us voice analysis, Base. Now. We have to know who else he’s working with.”
“Already on it.”
The pride and pure love reflected in Ryker’s multi-colored eyes gives me hope. Not enough, but if Harrow’s worried, he’ll make a mistake, and that’s where we’ll best him. But what is he worriedabout?
The speaker crackles before the first man replies. “We left Davis so far from the road, he’ll never be found.”
“Good.” Alec’s voice holds a note of relief. “He took Quint from me once before. He won’t do it again.”
“Big Brother’s a hundred miles from the city in the middle of Flash Flood Alley. And there’s a storm rolling in,” the voice says. “There’s no way he’ll be alive by morning.”
“Why didn’t you just kill him in the first place?” Alec’s practically whining now, and if it’s the last thing I do—or the next to last thing, right before I end him—I’m going to punch out his perfect teeth.
“We went as far as we could in the time we had, Harrow. Any longer, and we would have been missed. Besides, he needed to suffer for what he did to Billy. We left him in agony, and he’ll pray for death every minute until the end.”
Alec curses under his breath. “If he doesn’t die, I’m sending Dennis back to finish the job personally.”
The receiver slamming down on the phone is so loud, we all flinch, and Ryker looks to me. “Did Q ever mention the name Dennis?”
“No. But if Alec found someone else he could control…”
Raelynn clears her throat. “Boys? We’ve got a bigger problem. If they left Connor a hundred miles from Dallas in Flash Flood Alley…there’s no way he’ll live through the night.”
Pulling out his sat phone, Ryker motions to Raelynn. “You know the area. Where would he be?”
She snorts. “You do realize Texas is fuckin’ huge, right? Flash Flood Alley runs halfway across the state. I can help you narrow it down, but, you’re still talkin’ a larger search area than the whole of Seattle.”
“Don’t care.” Ryker hands her a tablet. “Give me approximate boundaries and I’ll handle the rest.” Striding to the back of the RV, he punches a number into the sat phone. “Stars and Bars? Need a favor. Not a small one.” After thirty seconds, he snorts. “No. I donothave a tutu on me. You’re going to do this anyway.”
