GIANNI WOKE up slowly, his head throbbing, his belly churning. Lord have mercy, had he hit a deer or something?
Okay. Okay, where was he? He tried to lift his hand, the duct tape drawing him up short.
He looked down, only to find he was taped to a chair. Really? Really?
For fuck’s sake. Colt was fired. So was Chris.
He blinked, trying to clear his vision and see his danger areas. Okay. This was the nastiest piece-of-shit trailer on earth. Ew. Stains dotted the walls, the curtains were shreds of what used to be cheap-assed Wallyworld clearance shit, and he didn’t want to think about what was on the carpet.
He rocked back and forth, testing the chair he was in. He was taped to the back, to the legs. What pissed him off most was his mouth was taped shut. He hated that shit. It pulled his hair. Tugged his stubble. Just made him crazy.
The door opened, and a fresh wave of body odor hit him. Oh God. If he puked now, he’d drown in it.
That moron Snake stormed into the room, and Gianni wasn’t sure if he was happy or pissed. Drug lords were more focused; spurned lovers were crazier.
The guy marched right over to him, then ripped the tape off his face. “Fuck!” Jesus, that stung.
“Not a chance. Where is my girl?”
“What girl?” He was going to have to kill this man. That was all there was to it.
“You motherfucker! You have my woman on that ranch?”
“Alison?” He went wide-eyed. “She and Maria are our only women.”
Snake backhanded him. Okay, so that wasn’t fun.
As soon as he got a hand free, he was going to rip the motherfucker’s balls off. He grinned, blood trickling from his split lip.
“Brianna.” Snake drawled out every syllable as if he were stupid.
“Is that a song?” Fuck-a-doodle-do.
“My woman!” Snake hit him again.
“Neanderthal.” He was going to kill this bastard.
“I want her back.”
“Well, maybe you could bathe.” If he could get the idiot to turn over the chair, maybe the slats would break. “Or brush your goddamn teeth.”
The guy actually had the grace to flush. “She left me!”
“Before or after you gave up on hygiene completely?” For God’s sake, this Snake asshole was what? Thirty? Forty? The meth made it hard to tell.
“You motherfucker.” Snake lunged at him, and they went ass over teakettle. The chair cracked.
Perfect. He took the pummeling while he worked one hand free, then slammed the edge of his hand under Snake’s jaw in a single sharp strike.
Boom. Glass jaw. Snake went out like a firefly in a tornado. Fucker. Duct tape was the worst. He hunted his phone. Goddammit. Where did the asshole put it? Gianni gingerly felt in the man’s pockets. No dice. Where? Think.
Think.
Control the perp first. Then deal with your shit.
He found the duct tape. Score. And there was his phone. Ah, disorganized criminals. He taped wrists, ankles, and, to return the favor, mouth. Then he grabbed his cell and turned it on.
Who first? Ali. Ali, then Colt, then Chris.
“Where the fuck are you?”
“I have no idea. A trailer.” He went to peek outside. “Uh. Somewhere.” Nothing looked familiar.
“Colt. I need triangulation on Cesare’s phone. Now.” Ali sighed. “You hurt?”
“Whack on the head. Duct tape burn. And I swear, the smell in here is making my eyes water.” He could use some water.
“Impressive. I have our new team doctor here. By the way, I scared your little cowboy into vapors this morning. He’s nicely hung. Congrats.”
“Thanks.” Fuck. “No killing him or anything. This is that Snake guy.”
“Really? He kidnapped a federal agent? Wow.”
“And hit me. A lot.” He went for pitiful. That might get him ice cream. Or at least tortilla soup.
“Uh-huh. Chris and Xavvy are having a joint meltdown.”
“Well, send someone to get my ass, will you? And they need to run Snake in.”
“We’re looking for you. Just keep talking. Any drugs in there?”
“Probably. He’s a meth head, Ali. No way is he our guy.” He had that from Xavvy as well as personal experience. “Now?”
“Working on it.”
“Damn it, where am I? Greenville or something?”
“Wolfe City. We’ll be there in an hour and a half, give or take.”
“Jesus. Okay. I’ll call Chris.” Christ. The guy had really wanted privacy to work him over. Also, that knock on the noggin had to have been augmented with something chemical. “Why Wolfe City? Seriously? You couldn’t find a more local place to hold me?” He kicked Snake in one ample buttcheek.
Snake jumped, eyes opening. “Boo, motherfucker. Not as helpless as you thought.” Gianni bit off saying more. No monologuing.
Monologuing bad. Just search. Keep an eye out. Breathe.
He grabbed a couple of Kleenexes from a grimy box, because he didn’t have gloves on him. His wallet had been by the phone. Luckily, nothing in there had pointed to his real life.
A text came in: Sheriff C has Hunt co coming
Thank God. They informed or just coming in blind?
Informed. Play along.
That was the best thing, he thought. He would have to get Colt to run anyone they spoke with, but Snake would be none the wiser. Then by the time Snake understood the magnitude of his mistake, he’d be deeply fucked-up and the babies would be gone.
He dragged a kitchen chair over and sat by the front door. He cracked the door for air. This was good, really. Snake arrested for assault, maybe Xavvy could slide into the wildcard slot.
Hopefully it would ease Bonner’s mind too.
That might give them more time together…. Yeah. He was a lucky man. A little tenderized, but lucky.
Gianni grinned. Might as well start filling Colt in via text. Local LEOs were notoriously slow.