by Tara Lain
Anxious to get away from his own thoughts. “If I’ve rushed too much, I’m happy to sit here and drink while you arrange the details.”
“No, I called from home, I mean, the office to make the arrangements for food and wine. Everything should be ready.”
Lindsey chugged his vodka, pulled the olive from its stick with his teeth, and slipped off the barstool. “Lead on, Macduff.”
Bruce looked a little confused at the reference to Mr. Shakespeare but led the way to the entrance to the club, where the doorman waited with a huge basket and several side bags. Bruce inspected the contents briefly. “Good job. I’ll get the car. Wait here, dear.”
Bruce trotted off. Dear? Really? Oh hell, he just felt cynical today and, if truth be told, a touch tipsy. He didn’t usually drink much on an empty stomach and the vodka had hit hard.
The doorman smiled. “Hope you have a lovely picnic, sir.”
“Thanks. It’ll be nice to be outdoors. I spend so much time cooped up.”
“One of the reasons I like my job. Being outdoors. Where are you going for the picnic?”
“No idea. It’s all Bruce’s plan.”
“Rain Rocks is a nice area. Lots of pasture for sunlight but also trees for shade.”
“Thanks, I’ll suggest it.”
Bruce pulled up the car. He must have followed Lindsey’s lead and not trusted his car to the valet. He mentally shrugged. Nothing special about that black Mercedes. The doorman opened the trunk and put in the basket and bags. Lindsey glanced in as he walked around the car to the passenger side. Large folded blanket, a tablecloth, it looked like, and a couple of folding chairs. Good man. Bruce had thought of everything. Even some plastic rope for tying up the blankets after they’d used them.
He reached to open the door, but Bruce was right there. “Let me assist you, kind sir.”
Still cute. He slid onto the leather seat. Bruce slammed the door, and Lindsey saw him in the side mirror handing money to the doorman. Then he got into the driver’s seat, and the doorman closed the door and gave them both a quick wave.
Bruce drove to the parking lot exit. “The doorman suggested Rain Rocks. Sounds like a good spot.”
“Yes, he mentioned that to me also.”
“Rain Rocks it is.”
The drive was pleasant enough. They listened to music and chatted. Lindsey didn’t know the Rain Rocks area that well. Kind of wild, and he wasn’t that much for roughing it. He liked his sports with a lovely bar or restaurant at the end of the course. Still, it was better than sitting in his bathtub thinking about Seth. He shuddered. Just the name felt like a kick in the stomach.
“This is Rain Rocks.” Bruce pulled off the road into a flat dirt area that had tire marks, so it must be a parking lot for hikers. No vehicles were there now. Tall trees rimmed the area, with the aforementioned rocks behind. The big stones had a light-and-dark pattern that looked like raindrops, explaining the name. Pretty but isolated. Being here with someone he really wanted to be alone with would have been okay. Hmm. As it was, a picnic at the zoo might have been nice.
Bruce got out and walked toward the trunk. Lindsey sighed and slid out his side door.
Bruce unloaded all the supplies. “Shall we walk in a ways? Then we won’t be bothered if someone else comes here to park.”
Like Smokey the Bear? “Sure. Lead the way.”
Lindsey grabbed the bags and chairs while Bruce hefted the basket, tablecloth, and blanket. They walked on a rough trail for about ten minutes and got to an open clearing with a few scattered trees and forest on the other side. Far enough. He wasn’t wilderness trekking. Lindsey headed for a tree in the center of the clearing. “That looks nice.”
Bruce paused. “Oh, uh, okay. How about that tree over there?” He pointed to the far side of the clearing.
Whatever. They crossed the hot, sunny, open space to the shelter of the tree, and Bruce laid out the blanket then put the tablecloth on top of it. Lindsey unfolded the chairs, which were the low camp type, and flopped into one.
Bruce knelt on the cloth. “This is perfect.” He sorted through the food—fried chicken, potato salad, green salad, some kind of thing made with artichoke hearts—then pulled out two china plates and started serving a bit of each dish. No red meat. Damn. At full moon, Lindsey’s taste for blood got even stronger. Oh well, he’d live. How many rubber chicken events had he endured for the company? He accepted a plate and started picking at the food.
Bruce poured them both some wine from a bottle of red and handed a glass to Lindsey; then he took his own plate and settled onto the second chair. “Isn’t this great? So relaxing.”
Flies. Ants. Too much sun on one side of the tree and a kind of creepy forest behind. Relaxing like Silence of the Lambs. “Yes, great.”
Bruce pointed with his fork. “You don’t seem quite like yourself today. Is everything okay?”
“Yes, just fine.” Discounting his brain, his cock, and his heart.
“What happened to the boy I saw you with at the polo match? The orphan.”
Lindsey smiled. “He’s become quite a friend, actually. He loves polo, so I’ve arranged for riding lessons for him.”
Bruce raised an eyebrow. “That’s awfully nice of you.” He chewed. “Do you think it’s wise to get involved with a boy like that?”
Lindsey frowned. “What do you mean ‘boy like that’ and why shouldn’t I help him?”
Bruce’s eyes widened. “I just mean there are so many kids that need help. How can you choose just one?”
“Is the fact that there’s so much need a reason to not help one person?”
“No, no, not at all. It just must be hard to pick one.”
“The universe picked him for me.”
“Yes, I suppose.” He stared down at his plate and toyed with the salad. “What about the guy I’ve seen you with the last couple times? The rough, handsome one? What happened to him?”
God, he didn’t want to talk to Bruce about Seth. “I told you, I was doing a favor for a friend, and now the favor is done.’
Bruce nodded and took a bite. “Umph.” He swallowed. “Mind if I ask what kind of favor?”
Yes, he did mind. But the guy had gone to a lot of trouble to create a nice afternoon. “I was helping out the governor. The man is a policeman. He’s investigating the kidnappings.”
Bruce coughed, slugged down a mouthful of wine, and coughed harder. Lindsey leaned over and patted his back until he finally seemed to catch his breath.
Lindsey shrugged. “I never told you because I know it upsets you to talk about the kidnappings.” That wasn’t the truth, but it sounded good. What the hell.
“But—but, you were smuggling a cop into the center of our community. Passing him off as a friend. Do you think that’s right?”
Lindsey narrowed his eyes. “Do you think it’s right for some member of our community to be kidnapping his supposed friends and holding them for ransom?”
“Do you really think it’s one of us?”
“Of course. Don’t you?”
He shuddered visibly. “I try not to think about it at all.”
Lindsey sipped his wine.
“But if he’s investigating the kidnappings, why is your favor done? Have they caught them?”
Lindsey looked at Bruce. “I’m not sure. I believe the officer thought I was more trouble than I was worth to his investigation.” That thought hurt badly.
“Interesting. That certainly explains why you were so mysterious about him.”
“I suppose. I didn’t realize I was mysterious.”
Bruce set his plate and glass aside and leaned back on his elbows. “You certainly had me going. I was so jealous, I would have gladly split the guy’s head open with a brick.”
Lindsey raised an eyebrow. “Rather intense feelings for someone who doesn’t even like to contemplate violence, don’t you think, darling?”
Bruce stared at him. “That’s what you do to me. Not my fault.”
; That was a little like men who blamed women because they couldn’t resist them, but he wasn’t going to point that out.
Bruce gazed around the clearing, stared into the forest, and seemed to make some kind of decision. He sat up, crawled over to Lindsey, and kissed him.
Awkward, since Lindsey still held a glass of red wine, but he tried to be compliant. Maybe a kiss was just what he needed.
Bruce muddled around for a minute, and Lindsey pushed him away. “Hold on.” He set down the glass and took hold of Bruce’s face with both hands. “If we’re going to do this, we might as well do it right.” Not that much about this felt right. He slanted his mouth and captured Bruce’s lips, pressing his tongue between them. Bruce moaned. Okay, he’d give this a try.
He pressed his tongue deeper and explored. Wait. Odd smell. Acrid.
There was a sudden sound like thudding boots.
Something black fell over his head, cutting off sight. Two—no, four—hands grabbed his arms. He kicked out with one foot, heard Bruce wail, and struggled to pull his arms free, but no go. “What the fuck!”
He thrashed his head, trying to get the cover off. Two more hands grabbed his feet. He was dragged.
Behind him, Bruce was whimpering and yelling.
“Bruce, are you okay?” He twisted his body and pulled his leg free from one of the hands. He kicked wildly, no idea where or who he was kicking.
“Lindsey!” Bruce sounded panicked. Not good with violence, as he’d said.
“Fight them, Bruce!” He kicked again, striking a body in front of him hard.
Someone screamed, “Shit! Knock this asshole out.”
A hand grabbed his mouth through the cloth. That smell again. Ether. No! He held his breath. But the hand held on, pressed over his nose and mouth… and slowly he felt the blackness creep across his brain.
Chapter Ten
Concentrate! Seth stared at the screen. Lindsey said he’d figured out a connection between the warehouses and that’s how he found the kid. What was the connection?
Pick up the fucking phone and ask him, asshole. He blew out his breath. He’d stood right there and heard Lindsey say that important piece of information, and all he could think about was how hurt he was that Lindsey thought he could do the job better than Seth. His fucking ego and his overactive cock fried every brain cell in his head, and he’d let Lindsey walk away without a single question. Losing it! The polo-playing grandma made him crazy. He hadn’t even remembered he’d said it until this afternoon.
Eat crow, asshole. He picked up the cell and pushed the speed dial. One ring. Two. Three. Voice mail. For one indulgent second, he listened to Lindsey’s musical voice. Okay. He clicked it off. Of course Lindsey wasn’t going to talk to him after the shit he’d said. If he wanted to know the connection, he’d have to send someone else to get it. Unless he could figure it out himself. That would be epic.
He leaned toward the screen and tried again to trace the common thread between the two properties where they’d found the victims. They appeared to be owned by different companies, and when he traced beyond the obvious ownership, things melted into the murk of the Cayman Islands. He’d ask the Feebs. He picked up the phone.
The captain hurried over beside his desk. “Zakowsky, there’s been another kidnapping. Two, in fact.”
“Shit. Who? Tell me the details.”
“A double score, and a big one. It’s the guy who helped the governor with the money. Vanessen, and….”
All the blood left his head. His mouth opened, but what wanted to come out was a scream. Not cool. No. He shook his head.
“Seth? What’s wrong?”
He swallowed. Needed spit to talk. Didn’t have any. “I-I know the grandfather. I mean, I’ve met him.”
“Okay, you go to Vanessen’s. The other guy is Westerberg. Somebody knew these two would be together alone. Grabbed them on a fucking picnic at Rain Rocks.”
His heart stopped. Moved on, just that fast. Picnicking with fucking Westerberg the Creep. “My fault.”
“What? What do you mean?”
What had he said? “Oh, I mean I should have seen it coming. The guy’s so rich and so high profile. A logical target—shit, who am I kidding?” He stood up, grabbed his jacket, and started toward the door. “I’m going to Vanessen’s. I need all the data on the snatch.”
“Seth, are you okay?”
“No. Not okay at all.”
He raced to the elevator and tapped the button until the thing succumbed and opened. His heart beat so hard he couldn’t hear. All the way down, he wrapped his arms around his chest. His fault. He’d left him at the mercy of God knew who. Yes, Lindsey was brave. But ridiculously so. He’d get himself killed—Don’t think that. Don’t think that.
He couldn’t live if Lindsey died. His breath caught. What did I just think?
He piled off the elevator and ran out the front door of the building—right into a solid wall of men.
Holy shit. Standing on the sidewalk was one of the strangest, most gorgeous men he’d ever seen. Very tall, with hair that shone like silver, although it was technically brown. Even in the fading light, he wore sunglasses. Beside him was a much smaller man, but so beautiful they shouldn’t let him out on the street. Two older men, also big, flanked the pair in the middle, and a group of five or six stood behind them, all huge. “Uh, can I help you?”
The one in sunglasses stepped forward. “I’m Cole Harker, Lindsey’s best friend. This is my husband Paris and our family. Tell us about Lindsey.”
Holy shit, who are these people? He frowned. “I can’t discuss the case.”
The big guy, Harker, crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t mean to be an a-asshole, but we’re pretty set on knowing, so I suggest you t-tell us.”
The black-haired beauty smiled, and it was almost too much for a body to take. “What he means is, we’re friends of the governor, and there are nine of us. Resistance, as they say, is futile.” He grinned.
No. No. They were slowing him down. He reached for his key for the Kawasaki. “He’s been kidnapped along with another man. We assume by the same people who’ve done all the others. I’m on my way to the Vanessens’. Maybe you should come.”
The big guy cocked his head. “Are you Zakowsky?”
“Yeah.”
He nodded like that was expected and a little distasteful.
Seth shook his head. “Look, I’m in a hurry. Do what you want to do.” He skirted around them and ran to the parking lot where he’d stashed the bike. He didn’t care about his ego or how different they were or what anyone thought. He had a crazy idiot, polo-playing granny to save.
Why would these fucking humans not leave the room?
Lindsey strained his wrists against the rope that bound them. His feet were tied a little more loosely. The asswipes didn’t want to clean up his pee, so they’d allowed enough slack for him to shuffle to the bathroom. The floor beneath him looked like a warehouse, but that’s all he could see from the black bag they had over his head.
He needed to shift, but Cole’s words rang in his ears. He couldn’t let the humans see him. But if he waited too long, he’d lose the full moon and really be trapped. Clearly, the two guys playing cards in the room with him were just muscle like the others had been. A few minutes ago he’d heard one of them on the phone with whoever must be the boss, but nothing in the muffled conversation suggested who it could be.
What time was it? How long had he been unconscious? “Uh, can someone tell me the time?”
A deep voice said, “Yeah, sure, it’s—”
“Shut up, asshole.” The other man’s voice was higher and lighter, but his brain appeared a little more solid. “You can’t tell him that.”
“Why? What’s it matter?”
“I don’t know, but just don’t tell him, okay? It’s your deal.”
Damn. It felt like night. The power of the moon acted on him all twenty-four hours but got stronger at night during the full moon, and right now h
e had the itch. So it might be the night of the day he had been captured. Or maybe the next night, but surely he’d have wakened before then. “Where’s my friend? The guy you captured with me?”
The lighter voice guy made a sneering sound. “You mean the one you were kissing, pervert? As far as I’m concerned, they should drown both you fags and forget about the ransom.”
The deep voice cut in. “Now you need to shut up.”
“Yeah, well it’s the truth. Disgusting.”
“You folding or what?”
“Yeah.”
A cell phone rang. High Voice answered. “Yeah.”
Pause.
“Yeah, hang on.” He seemed to speak to Deep Voice. “Turn on the cameras and get out of the way.”
“Okay, yeah, I know.”
Footsteps, then silence.
Lindsey could hear the echo of voices from the cell phone but couldn’t make out the words. High Voice sounded annoyed. “They say they can’t tell who it is with the bag on his head. Turn on the microphones so they can hear his voice.”
His mother’s trembling soprano filled the space around him. “Lindsey, is that you?”
“Yes, darling. I’m fine. Don’t worry.”
“Of course I’m worried. I’m hysterical!”
“Is Seth there?”
“I’m here, Lindsey, and I’m so sorry.”
His heart beat hard. Was that an apology? If he’d thought he was going to die, he’d die happy—but that so wasn’t happening.
“Mom, don’t pay the ransom until Seth tells you to—”
“Shut up, pervert.” A tinny click probably meant he’d turned the mike off. A low growl rumbled in Lindsey’s throat. He definitely wanted to eat that asshole, and not in a good way. But Seth had to know what Lindsey meant. Wait until the next day when they promised to deliver him.
Footsteps. High Voice snarled in his ear. “You want to be a hero, pervert? One more stunt and I’ll make you a martyr.” He roughly checked Lindsey’s bonds and pulled them tighter.
Deep Voice whined at him. “C’mon, man, that guy’s valuable. If you hurt him, the boss will kill you.” He snorted. “Literally.”