by L. E. Bross
Somehow, after I screamed myself hoarse, I managed to crawl around until I found the cot, then pulled the blanket down to wrap it around myself. At first I didn’t believe that Nate would really leave me here to starve to death, but as the minutes—hours?—tick by, reality sinks in.
He’s gone.
I’m trapped in this room, in this warehouse in the middle of nowhere, and I’m going to die. Slowly. Painfully. Just like he said.
My teeth clack together, even though the temperature in the room is so warm that a sheen of sweat covers my face. The air is heavy and the mustiness fills my lungs.
Somehow the light made it more bearable.
In the dark, with no sound at all, it feels like a coffin.
I bark out a hoarse laugh that ends on a gut-wrenching, body-shaking sob.
It is my coffin.
In my mind, I hear a voice calling my name. It sounds so much like Riot that I hold my breath, but there’s nothing except silence now. I strain my ears and hear a noise. Maybe. It’s faint and I’m not sure exactly what it is or where it’s coming from.
Using the cot for reference, I make my way toward where I think the door is, one arm outstretched in front of me. When I finally feel the cool metal under my fingers, I exhale, then press as close as I can get, one ear against the door.
“Hello?” I call out. “Is someone out there?”
I’m greeted by silence, so I slam my hand against the door. It barely makes a sound. A nagging doubt flickers in the back of my mind. What if this was all just a cruel joke? What if Nate is standing outside the door, listening to me fall apart? Enjoying every moment of my pain?
Rage consumes me. That’s exactly something he would do. Emotional torture is his specialty after all.
“You fucking asshole,” I yell. “I know what you’re doing and it’s not going to work, Nate. You won’t break me.”
I pound a few more times, then stop and listen. Everything is quiet. The anger recedes as doubt creeps back in. Maybe I imagined the sound.
“Nate, open the door. You proved your point.”
Nothing.
Then I hear it again. Almost like footsteps thumping on metal close by. The balcony? I press my ear tight against the cool metal again, then slam the hell out of my hand on the door.
It barely makes a sound.
He is still here, the bastard.
I need something to hit the door with. To get his attention.
I crawl on my hands and knees, feeling around for anything to use. The room is bare except for the bucket in the corner that no one bothered to empty. I gag when I get close, knowing what’s in it. I’d have to dump it out and even if I did, plastic on metal would barely make any noise.
I need something hefty, something as thick as metal. My fingers close around the leg of the cot. The bed is too big to swing around, but maybe I can pry loose one of the legs.
Maybe I could use it to bash Nate in the head when he opens the door.
The first leg I try is fastened too tightly, so I move to the second. It wobbles in my hand. I move it back and forth, wiggling it wider and further until it snaps off.
It takes precious seconds to feel my way to a wall and back to the door. By the time I touch the metal again with my fingers, I’m panting. I swing and the leg hits the door with a loud clang.
Yeah, the noise will do.
I pound the leg against the door over and over again until the sound fills the small room, making my ears ring. I have no idea if anyone’s really outside the door. My head feels like a gong, but I don’t stop swinging.
Hopefully it annoys Nate so much that he has to open the door.
In between hits, I think I hear voices, but I don’t entirely trust myself, so I don’t stop swinging the cot leg. Not even when the door swings open and I almost fall on my face. I manage to catch myself and when arms reach down to lift me, I swing blindly.
Blinding light makes it impossible to see more than an outline, but that fucker is going to feel some pain of his own. The leg connects and I hear a low curse, followed by the distant sound of running.
I grit my teeth, ready to fight anyone who tries to shove me back into that dark box. I’m not going to die without a fight.
“Ever!”
The shout reaches me right before a body drops in front of me. I blink my eyes clear just in time to see Ry and then I’m in his arms, pressed against his hard chest. The leg falls from my fingers with a series of small clangs.
“Thank fuck,” he whispers in my ear, his arms tightening around me like he can’t get close enough.
I melt against Ry’s chest and feel more hands at my back, stroking over my head, running down my arms. Tears stream down my face when I look up and see Baz and X standing there.
If they’re here, then it means Nate isn’t.
He really left me to die.
The reality of it hits me and I start to sob in Ry’s arms.
Chapter Twelve
Baz
We could have missed her.
That thought takes root and makes me feel sick.
If she hadn’t chosen that exact moment to bang on the door, we would have walked out of that warehouse none the wiser. Would have left her locked in that room to die less than twenty minutes away from where Nate kidnapped her.
And we would have never known what happened to her.
She was that close all this time.
The sound of her quiet sobs coming from the backseat wrecks me.
I got a look at the room when the door opened. It was dark, almost completely bare, and there was a fucking bucket in the corner. He locked her up like an animal and left her there.
I clench my fists. I’ve never wanted to hurt anyone as much as I want to get my hands on this Nate guy. He tried to kill her.
A shudder wracks my body and chills spill down my spine. I turn to face the backseat, where Ry is wrapped around our girl, his face buried in her neck. I’m not sure what he’s saying, his voice is too low, but he hasn’t let go of her, not for a second. I don’t blame him. I keep reaching over the back of the seat to touch her arm, her leg, any part of her that I can reach.
To assure myself that she’s here.
X’s eyes are on the rearview more often than on the road and a few times, he’s had to swerve back into our lane. Thank god we don't have far to go.
Home.
We’re taking her home.
God, that feels good.
I look over and catch X’s stare. His knuckles are white around the steering wheel. I’m sure his thoughts are the same as mine. We almost missed her. A few seconds more…
He lets out a shaky exhale.
“We got her.”
I’m not sure if he’s reassuring me or himself.
The sobs quiet into sniffling and finally, Ever lifts her tear-stained, puffy face.
“I didn’t think he’d really do it. That he’d leave me there. I thought he was just trying to scare me.”
“He’s fucking dead,” Ry growls and X murmurs in agreement.
Ever sits up straighter.
“Please don’t go after him. Promise me. He’s dangerous. He’d have no problem shooting any of you.” Ever’s voice trembles and I reach out and lay my hand on her arm.
“We’re not afraid of some jealous ex, sweetheart,” X says.
She sucks in a ragged breath. “He was a jealous ex, but he was also a hired killer. Peter paid him to make me disappear.”
Tires squeal and I’m thrown against the glass as X cuts the wheel sharply and the car skids to a stop on the side of the road. He slams it into Park and whips around to face her.
“What did you just say?”
Ry has gone still, the tick in his jaw the only sign that he heard her, but I see his fist, balled up at his side.
“Peter told Nate where I was. Paid him half a million to make sure I disappeared for good.”
Ry slams his fist into the back of the seat. “I’m going to kill that motherfucker.”
“I’ll hold him down,” X grits out.
“Why?” I ask no one in particular.
“Because he’s a bastard,” X says. “He drugged Wendi. He set Ever up to go to prison. He fucking sold high-tech security info to terrorists. He’s a shitty excuse for a human being is why.”
“What if he sends someone else after me when he finds out Nate failed?”
She moves off Ry’s lap and pushes into the corner of the seat. Her eyes are so wide and filled with fear.
“What if the next person hurts you guys to get to me?”
Her voice rises with every word and she starts to breathe heavily.
“I won’t put any of you in danger.”
Ry grabs her and hauls her back into his lap, locking his arms around her even as she struggles to get free.
“You don’t get to decide to protect us and think we’re not going to do the same. We agreed we would do shit together.”
“This is different. If I go away, you’ll all be safe. It’s the only option we have. There’s no other way.”
There is, she just doesn't know it yet. None of them do.
“I know what we have to do,” I say, twisting in the seat so that I can see all of them clearly. “We need to go see Peter.”
The car goes silent.
“We go see Peter, and we offer him a deal.”
Chapter Thirteen
Ry
The fuck we are.
The only thing Peter will ever get from me is a fist to his face.
“Are you fucking serious?” I ask Baz for the hundredth time since we got home. I can’t stop pacing or looking toward the open door to Ever’s bedroom.
She disappeared to take a shower as soon as we got home. X is sitting on her bed waiting for her. I don’t blame him; having her out of my sight is making me even crazier.
It’s a good thing I can hear the shower running.
“We have to keep her safe. She’s going to be looking over her shoulder every minute of every day. Never knowing if the person behind her is a hired killer.” Baz scrubs his hand over his face. “Or worse, she’ll run to protect us. It’s why she went with Nate so willingly—he threatened us.”
Ever told us that on the way home.
I wanted to strangle her for putting herself in danger for us. I kissed her instead.
“You think any of us are going to be able to let her out of our sight? None of us can live like that. We need to take care of the problem now, before we can’t control it.”
“We’re supposed to be free of Peter’s influence, but he’s still calling the shots. When does it end, Baz?”
“I know, man. But we don’t have a choice. Not when it comes to Ever.”
“What if we don’t have anything he wants?”
Baz’s eyes get darker. “He’s a greedy bastard. The one thing you can count on with people like that is that they always want more.”
The shower shuts off and I’m on high alert.
I’m not the only one. Baz and I move in unison into her room.
When Ever steps out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, we exhale collectively. She’s here. She was missing for less than twenty-four hours, but it felt like a lifetime. For the first time since I got home last night and found out she wasn’t answering her phone, I can breathe normally.
Her eyes narrow on us, one at a time.
“Don’t do this. Don’t fucking baby me,” she growls. Her lips even curl up in one corner as she stalks to the closet and yanks the door open. “I’m not a delicate flower,” she throws over her shoulder before disappearing inside.
I meet Baz’s gaze and can’t help but grin. He shakes his head, a rueful smile playing over his lips.
Our fierce girl is back.
Fuck yeah.
She comes out in a tank top and tiny sleep shorts and tosses the towel in a basket in the corner. Her face is pink and makeup-free, and the scar that I barely notice anymore looks more pronounced against her pale face.
“What the fuck is that?” I’m across the room, my finger on her chin, tilting it up. There are purple bruises on her neck. “He did this?” I gently trace the marks that bastard put on our girl.
She swallows and I feel it against the tip of my finger.
“Was he the one who did this, too?”
My finger shakes when I trace the scar that goes from the edge of her eyebrow to halfway down her cheek. Baz and X are still behind me, but I can feel their rage mixing with mine.
“If he ever gets close to you again, I will fucking kill him.”
I feel her grip my free hand and tangle her fingers with mine. She lifts her gaze and I’m trapped in imploring blue eyes.
“Promise me you won’t go near him, Ry. Please.”
I close my eyes because I can’t lie to her face. Because the truth of the matter is, if I ever see him, no power on earth will stop me from hurting him so much worse than he did her.
I tug on her hand and lead her toward the bed.
“You need to sleep, Peep. You’ve been through a lot in a short amount of time.”
She shakes her head, but her eyelids start to droop. “I still can't believe I was only there for a day. It felt like a week.”
I pull the covers back and she climbs into bed despite her protests. I tuck her in, then press a kiss to her forehead.
“Even one day was twenty-four hours too long.”
She turns on her side and tucks her hands under her cheek. Her gaze moves over each of us.
“Thank you for finding me,” she whispers.
I turn away before she can see my face. She should never have been in that situation to begin with. Baz might think that dealing with Peter is the only way to fix this, but that bastard needs to pay for what he tried to do.
I have no idea how, but I’m going to find a way.
He hurt our girl. I’m going to make sure it will never happen again.
∞∞∞
I wake tangled in the covers, sweating like a fucking pig.
A nightmare dances on the edges of my consciousness, terror still bitter on my tongue. The image of Ever lying in a pool of blood, a gaping hole between her lifeless eyes, haunts me in my sleep.
I slip from the bed as quietly as I can so I don’t wake her. X is wrapped around her from behind so I know she’s safe. There’s a light on in the kitchen and when I walk in, I see Baz sitting at the island, his laptop in front of him.
“You really need to sleep,” I say, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge.
I prop my forearms on the counter and drop my head.
“Couldn’t sleep.” He takes his glasses off and rubs his hand over his face. “Can’t stop with the fucking what-ifs.”
“Same. Every time I close my eyes, I see her in a pool of blood.”
I shake my head like it will get rid of the image. It would be so much easier if brains were like those old-school toys you can shake to get a clean slate.
Baz turns his tortured gaze on me.
“We could have easily missed her. Seconds, Ry.” His voice breaks and I reach out and lay a hand on his shoulder. My stomach twists painfully. I know exactly how he feels.
“I know. That’s why we need to end this once and for all.”
“We will. Visiting hours start at ten.”
I squeeze the bottle of water so hard that the cap flies off and water shoots into the air. I’d like to do the same thing to that fucker’s head. The world would be a better place without him in it.
“He knows he has us over a fucking barrel,” Baz says. “We need to offer him something he can’t refuse.”
“Like what?”
Baz drops his head and slides his glasses back on. “Like Panchard.” He looks up and I see determination burning in his eyes. “And all the tech that goes with it.”
Chapter Fourteen
Ever
The smell of bacon wakes me and my stomach lets out a ferocious growl.
I’m alone in bed, but I know for a fact that Ry a
nd X slept in it with me. They kept the nightmares at bay.
I slip out and use the bathroom, cringe at my pale reflection, then head to the kitchen. The delicious smell gets stronger the closer I get. When I cross the threshold, I stop.
All three boys are there.
Ry is at the stove, his back to me, muscles flexing every time he moves his arms. I let my gaze move slowly, taking in every ridged inch of him. His sweats hang low on his hips and my lips tingle at the thought of pressing them right above the waistband, against the divot at the base of his spine.
A buzzer sounds and X moves to pull something out of the oven. He’s also shirtless, but I can see strings tied behind his back. He’s wearing an apron. When he turns, a cookie sheet filled with bacon in his hands, I see Kiss the Cook printed across his chest with a big red arrow pointing down.
“You’re awake,” he says with a big smile. “Come in. Sit. Eat.”
Ry turns and I catch his stare. I can feel him taking inventory as his gaze moves over me. What he sees must satisfy him, because his smile turns into a lopsided smirk.
“Morning, Peep. You look good enough to eat.”
My nipples pebble against the thin material of my tank top and his eyes darken.
“You’re burning the pancakes,” Baz says as he sets down a pitcher of orange juice. He too isn’t wearing a shirt. It’s so much like old times that my heart swells with happiness.
This is the first bit of normal I’ve felt in a long time. The last of the tension eases from my shoulders as I watch them. I haven’t seen them working together like this in, well, ever. I had no idea they even knew how to cook.
They’re doing it for me and it makes me smile.
And the fact that they’re all shirtless? I’m not complaining in the least.
Ry turns back to the stove and Baz brushes his hand over my lower back, sending a rush of warmth up my spine.
“Morning, baby, how’d you sleep?” His warm breath tickles my ear right before he presses his lips just below. The warmth sinks lower and settles between my legs.
It’s been awhile since I’ve been the center of their attention.
My body comes alive.