Room For One More: Herc’s Mercs #8

by McKay, Ari

  Metal beds almost filled the room, although only a few at the far end seemed to be occupied at the moment. There were wrist and ankle restraints dangling from chains on each, no doubt used to restrain the captives who were brought here. Even as he noticed these things, Joe was rushing toward the far end of the room, determined to catch Abassi. There was a chance Abassi or the other man were armed, but Joe couldn’t risk there being another exit by which Abassi could escape.

  “Ismail Abassi!” He called out. “We have something to discuss!”

  There was no reply, but Joe hadn’t really expected one. When he reached the down guard he stopped, kicking the man’s weapon away. The guard cursed at him in Urdu, using his good hand to grip the arm Joe had shot. Blood seeped between his fingers. The guy would probably bleed out without medical attention, but Joe found he really didn’t care.

  “Be quiet or I’ll shoot you again,” he said, pointing his gun at the guard, unsurprised when the man glared at him but fell silent.

  Joe turned his attention back to locating Abassi. He saw movement behind one of the beds, and he reached out quickly, capturing Abassi by his jacket, yanking him to his feet.

  “Who are you?” Abassi spat. He was a surprisingly small man, perhaps five feet, four inches in height, slightly built with plenty of silver in his dark hair. He was physically unimpressive, but Joe had no doubt that this man was the snake he’d come halfway around the world to find.

  “My name is Joe Morrissey,” he replied. “You sent a bunch of men after me. They tortured the man I love. That was a big mistake.”

  Abassi’s eyes widened. “You! You killed my son! My only son!” he spat, beginning to struggle in Joe’s grip. “You deserve to die! I wish they’d killed all of you!”

  Joe brought his gun up, pressing it against Abassi’s head. “Too bad for you, they didn’t.”

  “Look out!”

  Joe heard Drew’s shout, and he whipped his head around, seeing the other man, the apparent buyer, rising from behind another bed with a gun. There was no way Joe could move out of the way, and he couldn’t move his own weapon fast enough to shoot back. But even as the buyer fired, Drew had raised his own gun, firing a shot that caught the man in the chest.

  Abassi lunged in Joe’s grip, likely trying to get away, but he timed things all wrong. His compatriot’s shot went wide, and Abassi got in the way, taking the bullet in the shoulder.

  “No!” Joe didn’t release his captive, even as the small man cried out and fell to his knees. “You’re not getting away! Look at me! I want my face to be the last thing you see before I send you to Jahannam!” Abassi squirmed, but Joe pressed his gun against the man’s head, again. “Time to get what you deserve.”

  “Joe, don’t.” Drew’s voice was a calm, quiet counterpoint to the roiling tension in the room, and he approached slowly, holding his gun off to the side. “I know you think it’ll feel good to blow his head off, but you’ll regret it later.”

  “No, I won’t.” Joe’s voice was hoarse, and he felt rage coursing over him. “It’s the only way to make sure Finn is safe!”

  “No, it’s not.” Drew moved close enough to touch Joe, but he didn’t reach out. “I can call Herc. He’s got the task force you worked with standing by. They’ll be here in minutes. Let them handle it. They might get information out of him that could save even more victims, and you won’t have his blood on your hands. He’s not worth it.”

  Part of Joe wanted to ignore Drew’s words. He wanted so badly to end Abassi’s life that he was shaking, as close to the edge of giving into pure rage as he had ever been in his life. But the rational part of him knew Drew was right. As much as he wanted Abassi dead for what happened to Finn, there was still a right and a wrong in this situation. Killing Abassi in cold blood, as much as it would ease his rage, would be the wrong thing to do.

  Joe released his captive before holstering his weapon. “Tie him up,” he said in a hollow voice. He looked away, and that was when he noticed the occupants of the beds for the first time.

  Half a dozen young boys and girls were strapped to the beds, all of them apparently unconscious. Joe’s gut twisted. They were chained up like animals ready for the slaughter. They were probably considered very special “merchandise” by the traffickers, and no doubt that was why Abassi had brought the buyer here, to purchase one or more of them for resale in the sex trade.

  “Oh God,” he said, covering his eyes. “Call the task force, get them here. This… I can’t do this. Not again.”

  Drew grabbed Abassi’s arm and wrenched it behind his back, purposely cold to Abassi’s yelp of pain. “Sit down, Joe,” he said, a hint of command in his voice. “Take some deep breaths. I’ll handle this.”

  Joe wasn’t aware of obeying, but he found himself sitting on the floor. He put his head in his hands, shutting out the sight, and sank into his own private despair.

  25

  After a debriefing conversation with Herc, Drew glanced over at Joe’s bedroom. The door stood open, and the interior was dark and still. He would have bet anything that Joe hadn’t moved since they returned to the hotel and Drew helped him into bed.

  As expected, the task force had arrived quickly, and Drew turned Abassi over to them without a qualm, too concerned by Joe’s thousand-yard stare to give any fucks about Abassi’s fate. The bad guy was in captivity and his victims in that warehouse were getting help. Drew had done what he could for the task force, but now his focus was entirely on Joe. The day wasn’t saved, yet.

  The whole way back to the hotel, Joe had seemed catatonic. His eyes were open, and he obeyed Drew’s instructions, but he hadn’t said a word since he’d sat down on the cold floor of that holding area. Drew had guided him into his bedroom and helped him out of his boots and body armor, and now he was curled up under the covers, unmoving and still silent. Drew wanted to climb into bed with him and nestle close in hopes that having a warm, solid presence nearby would offer some comfort, but he’d had to report to Herc first.

  He’d let Herc know he wasn’t sure when they’d be able to leave the country, since Joe was in no state to travel. Herc had assured him they could remain in the suite on the company’s dime for as long as necessary and offered whatever type of help or resources Drew might need. Herc even suggested sending of the company psychiatrists, but Drew didn’t think Joe was in any shape to talk to a shrink yet.

  He looked down at his phone, debating whether to call Finn, but he didn’t want to field a bunch of questions that he didn’t know the answers to, so he decided to send a text instead.

  Mission accomplished. I’ll fill you in later. Our dumbass needs attention right now.

  Then he turned off his phone, left it on the coffee table, and headed into Joe’s room. As expected, Joe hadn’t moved. Drew sat down on the bed and reached over to rub Joe’s shoulder.

  “I talked to Herc,” he said. He knew Joe could at least hear him even if he wasn’t processing the words on a conscious level. “He’s coordinating with the task force to mop up. We can stay here as long as you want. There’s no rush.”

  He paused just in case Joe decided to respond, but Joe didn’t, and so he took off his boots and got under the covers.

  “I’m gonna be right here.” He snuggled up against Joe’s back and draped one arm across Joe’s waist. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Joe didn’t move, and at some point things must have caught up to Drew, because he drifted off to sleep. Sometime later he was woken up by movement, and he realized Joe was thrashing, in the grip of a nightmare.

  “No! No! Please don’t! Don’t hit me! I’ll be good, I promise! Just don’t hit me anymore!”

  “Joe?” Drew sat up and grabbed Joe’s shoulder to shake him awake. “Joe, wake up! It’s just a nightmare. No one is going to hit you.”

  There wasn’t much light in the room, but Drew’s eyes were dark adapted, so he was able to see Joe’s eyes open and the expression of confusion on his face. “Drew? Where are we?”

/>   “We’re back at the hotel.” Drew settled down behind Joe again, and this time, he wrapped his arm around Joe and held him tight. “Everything’s fine. Abassi’s in custody. Herc’s handling the cleanup details. Finn knows we’re okay.”

  “Oh.” Surprisingly, Joe didn’t pull away. He was quiet for a long moment before Drew felt as much as heard his sigh. “It’s over?”

  “It’s over.” Drew offered a reassuring squeeze. “You did good.”

  A shudder ran through Joe. He pulled away, getting out of the bed and rising somewhat unsteadily to his feet. “I need the bathroom.”

  Drew threw back the covers and climbed out of bed as well. “You okay?” he asked, watching Joe with growing concern.

  Joe nodded jerkily and then headed toward the bathroom. He walked like a man who’d had a few too many, but he made it, turning on the light and closing the door behind him. After a few minutes Drew heard the toilet flush and water running. The water was turned off, but Joe still didn’t come out.

  “Joe?” Drew knocked on the door and waited, but when he hadn’t gotten any kind of response after about a minute, he opened the door, deciding the risk of pissing off Joe was worth it to make sure he was all right.

  He found Joe leaning on the sink, staring into the mirror with the kind of blank, hollow-eyed expression that Drew had seen before on the faces of men who were close to the edge, and his stomach knotted up at the sight.

  “Joe, whatever you’re seeing right now, it’s not real,” he said, resting his hand on Joe’s shoulder and rubbing it gently. “You’re here with me in a bathroom. A really nice one, but still a bathroom.”

  Joe didn’t react to the touch, and he didn’t look away from the mirror. “It never ends, does it?” he asked, but Drew wasn’t sure if Joe was speaking to him, or to his own reflection. “Never.”

  “No.” Drew hated saying it, but they both knew the truth. “But we do what we can to mitigate the horror. That’s all we can do.”

  Joe dropped his head. “I’m so tired. I don’t want to fight anymore.”

  Drew was probably the last person Joe wanted comfort from—the last person he’d choose to turn to—but Drew was all he had, and Drew wasn’t going anywhere. His heart ached at seeing Joe’s pain, and he understood it all too well. He’d felt the same way after Stack died.

  “Then don’t.” Drew slid both arms around Joe’s waist and held him close. “You don’t have to fight if you don’t want to. If you need to rest, rest. I’ve got you.”

  To Drew’s surprise, Joe nodded. “Okay. I want to go back to sleep. For a long, long time.”

  “Let’s get you back to bed, baby,” Drew murmured, guiding Joe away from the mirror. “You sleep as long as you want. I’ll be right here if you need anything.”

  “Thanks.” Joe leaned on Drew, letting Drew help him back to the bed. Joe sat down on the edge, then fell over, his head hitting the pillow with a thud.

  Drew got Joe’s legs onto the bed and pulled the covers up. “I’m going to get some water in case you wake up thirsty, and I’ll be right back, okay?”

  “ ’kay.” Joe’s voice was muffled, but at least he was answering. He hadn’t checked out again, and he wasn’t protesting anything Drew wanted.

  Seeing Joe so docile was new and a little alarming, and it made Drew want to help him all the more. He went to get a couple of bottles of water from the fridge and returned quickly. He left the bottles on the nightstand in easy reach, and then he got back into bed and gathered Joe in his arms again.

  “You’re safe,” he said, hoping the words helped on some level. “I’m here. I’m not leaving you alone.”

  Joe sighed. “I’m always alone,” he murmured drowsily. “Alone in the dark.”

  “Not anymore,” Drew said, tightening his arms around Joe. All of his protective instincts were surging to the forefront, and now his heart was getting in on the action. If Drew wasn’t careful, Finn might be the one who had to share. “I’m with you.”

  Joe said something unintelligible, but his breathing slowed down and grew even, so Drew knew he had fallen asleep. He relaxed in Drew’s arms, as though allowing himself to take the comfort in slumber that he probably would have rejected if fully conscious. Drew remained awake to watch over Joe while he slept, hoping that holding Joe close and stroking his back would keep the nightmares at bay.

  26

  He was lost.

  It was dark.

  A sea of screams roiled in the blackness.

  Hard to see.

  Cries for help pierced clearly into his mind.

  Despair crowded in on him from the people around him, trapped in their private hells. He wanted to help. Get them out.

  Set them free.

  Red lights flared, and the screams grew louder. Someone was coming, and a lump of dread formed in his stomach, weighing him down. He couldn’t move, and he felt the walls closing in around him, the ceiling dropping down. Lower and lower, tighter and tighter, until he felt he was being crushed. The pain was unbearable, and he opened his mouth and began to scream.

  “Joe!” The sound of his name broke through the haze of dream-pain, and he was jostled awake by someone shaking his shoulders. “Wake up! It’s just a dream. You’re okay.”

  “No!” Joe flailed his arms and then suddenly he found himself sitting up, feeling disoriented. For several moments he didn’t know where he was, and his heart was pounding so hard he thought it might burst from his chest. He glanced over at the man next to him, feeling confused when it wasn’t the tormentor he had expected to see. It took a while for it to register, but he finally almost sighed out the name. “Drew?”

  “Yeah, baby, it’s me.” Drew slid his arms around Joe and rubbed his back soothingly. “You were having a nightmare. It wasn’t real.”

  “No. Not real.” Not this time, at least. Joe scrubbed at his face, trying to push away the images his mind kept plaguing him with. He didn’t know how long it had been going on, but it seemed like forever. He knew he’d awakened at various points, and Drew was always there, either next to him in the bed or sitting in a chair nearby. Joe vaguely recalled Drew bringing him food and water, helping him to the bathroom, but mostly just letting him sleep. Even now Joe was tired, his body heavy and lethargic, but for once he was actually firmly in the present. He remembered the mission, but he shied away from thinking about it. He didn’t want to, not yet. Not when he felt so raw that it was like all the skin had been scraped from his body. Or maybe all the scabs were torn off his soul.

  He began to shiver. “So cold. Why is it so cold?”

  “You kicked off the covers.” Drew pulled the disheveled blankets back up and smoothed them around Joe. “You can stay close to me, too, if you’re still cold.”

  Joe curled against Drew, seeking his warmth. He was grateful for Drew’s calm, steady presence, and he sighed. “I know this will sound weird, but I’m glad you’re here, and not Finn.”

  Drew settled down beside Joe, holding him close and tight. “Why is that?” he asked, his tone laced with surprise.

  “It’s… I don’t want him to see me like this,” he said. “I’m the one who is strong for him. The one he can go to when he’s hurting. He sees a lot of pain, being a medic. He doesn’t need mine, too.”

  Drew remained silent for a minute or so, then nuzzled his cheek against the top of Joe’s head. “Who’s strong for you?” he asked softly.

  The gesture was comforting, and Joe was surprised that Drew touching him and cuddling him felt so good. Joe wasn’t used to clinging to anyone, not even Finn, but he felt the urge to hold fast to Drew, to let Drew help take away the pain he was feeling. It was a bit disturbing, because there were things about his past Joe hadn’t shared with anyone, not even Finn. Somehow, telling Drew didn’t seem as terrifying.

  “I’ve been strong for myself.” He shuddered. “I don’t feel strong now, though, and it’s a little frightening.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Drew’s tone was matter-of-fact. “I
t’s going to be scary until you feel steady on your feet again. That’s normal. But you’ve got me to be strong for you, if you want me to.”

  Joe closed his eyes. “Why would you do that for me? I’ve been… well, I guess not friendly would be the kindest way to describe it.” Now that he was able to take a small step back from his misery, he was aware of how much Drew had done for him—how much Drew had been doing from the beginning, even in the face of Joe’s hostility. It made him feel ashamed, so much so that his eyes began to burn. “I’m sorry I was a dick to you.”

  “You were, yeah.” Drew’s chuckle rumbled and vibrated against Joe’s ear. “But you had multiple good reasons to be. I’m not holding it against you.”

  “That’s generous.” Joe drew in a shuddering breath. “Thanks. It’s… it’s been hard. I felt like all I had was Finn, and when I needed him most, you’d stepped in and taken him from me. I hated you for it.”

  “I get it.” Drew gave him a little squeeze. “It would’ve been hard enough adjusting to having me around under normal circumstances, but Finn figured out something else was going on, and once we started working together, I saw it too because I’ve been there, done that. I wanted to help.”

  For once Joe’s embarrassment was greater than the pain. “I don’t know why. Is it for Finn? Because I feel like I don’t deserve it, the way I’ve been.”

  Drew fell silent again, and when he spoke at last, his voice was quiet and gentle. “Would you feel like you deserved it even if you hadn’t been a dick to me?”

  The question caught Joe by surprise. He hadn’t thought of it that way, and he wanted to shy away from the difficult thoughts. But the way he’d treated Drew before, and the support Drew had given him, meant the least Joe could do was be honest. He needed to open up, at least a little, in repayment, since all he’d done was shut Drew out.

  “Not really,” he admitted, his heart constricting. “I guess there’s a part of me that’s broken. I just hide it well.”