Chapter 10

Colt

It’s a trap, I thought. It has to be. But neither of the men moved on me.

“We want Devlin. We want to make sure The Retreat stays closed,” Dark-hair said.

“I just want Aubrey. If you hold me up only for me to find out she’s dead or hurt, I’ll add your brain matter to my trophy case.” My heart pounded louder and faster than ever. The ball was about to drop. If I was right, my world would change once and for all, and I’d have no say in the matter. “Who the hell are you?”

“We haven’t seen her.” Blondie sidestepped my question again.

They weren’t going to answer, but I didn’t need to know who they were—only if they could help me. “Tell me exactly where he’s been.”

Blondie stared at the driver, who stepped forward. “You can’t tip him off.”

“I won’t,” I growled, squeezing the gun and raising it slightly away from my leg. “I’ll fucking blow his head off.”

They stared at each other, but Dark-hair spoke first. “Who is this girl you’re interested in?”

I raised my gun. “Someone I’ll go to pretty great lengths to find right now. I gave her my word, and I intend to keep it.”

“Tell him,” Dark-hair said. Although he didn’t look too upset by my threat.

“Granger point,” Blondie replied. “We’ve tracked them as far as the access road. We don’t know the situation past that. We’d have no cover past the access road, but there’s only one way in and one way out.”

I kept my gun in hand, darted past them, and climbed into my car. Fuck them and whatever they planned to do. I only had one thing on my mind.

It could still be a trap. They could have been planning to follow me for all I knew. All I cared. But I hoped they weren’t stupid enough to try. We’d all end up dead.

I checked my rear-view mirror. Nothing. But they knew exactly where I was headed. They could be waiting… or sneak in behind me to ruin everything.

But with no options left, it was a chance I had to take.

When I reached the access road to Granger Point, I pulled my car off into the brush, making sure no one who passed by would recognize it. Then, I headed up the hill on foot, staying just off the road so I couldn’t be sighted. It was half a mile from the main road to a cluster of old buildings that sat at the top, overlooking the old railroad. I knew the area well because I used to sneak out there as a teenager, but I’d never known Devlin to have a connection to it. The buildings hid numerous places to ambush someone, but I stayed away from the openings and kept my back to a wall as much as possible. The smallest of the buildings was a crumbling old storage shed, but the main building had been preserved until a couple of decades ago. It was all concrete and steel and would give a demolition team a run for their money.

There were no vehicles around, so best-case scenario, I thought I might have to wait and set up my own ambush.

Ambush….

One man….

With any luck, I’d find Aubrey unguarded and get the hell out. Fuck an ambush. Fuck revenge. I had to win this battle.

The first floor was dark and empty. A few old offices lined the walls, but the thin interior walls were nearly destroyed by time.

My feet moved like ghosts over the concrete beneath me. Slow, deliberate movements while I watched every shadow.

I found my way to the staircase and crept down to the basement. Down the hallway, the old storage room had new hinges and a new door. I peeked down the hallway, then, turned the knob. It moved freely and my gut clenched. Holding my breath, I pushed the door open to reveal the tiny dark room. I hit the exterior light switch, and a dull, bare bulb glowed three feet over my head. A couple of empty water bottles littered the floor, and a metal pail sat against the opposite wall. I didn’t have to stretch my imagination to know its use.

No bed, no blankets, nothing but concrete.

I squeezed the hand grip of the gun, so close to punching through one of the walls.

Feeling slightly off balance, I stepped back out of the room and forced myself to take a long breath. Just outside the door sat an unlit kerosene heater. Since the area was still warm, I assumed it hadn’t been abandoned too long.

The hallway opened into a larger room where a pile of clothes laid against the wall—I recognized them from the last time I’d seen Aubrey. A black weight bench sat next to a counter, but the rest of the space had been cleared.

I heard a scraping sound above me and ducked toward the hallway. Pressing my back against the wall just before the corner so I’d see anyone who came down before they saw me.

I heard a ruckus in the room behind me, then casual footsteps approaching.

A tanned man with jet black hair entered—not paying a damn bit of attention to anything around him. I probably could have hung out as long as I wanted. He bent in the opposite direction and picked up Aubrey’s clothes.

A sorry clean-up crew.

I lunged at him, knocking him to the floor and bashing his face against the concrete. I pulled his head up, blood ran down his nose and down into his mouth.

“Where’s Devlin?”

“Fuck you,” he grunted, rolling to knock me off.

But I grabbed a handful of his short hair and pressed my gun to his bloodied face. “Want to reconsider?”

He spat blood on the floor. “You nuts? If you don’t kill me, he will.”

“A dead man will have a tough time killing anyone—that’s exactly what Devlin will be shortly.”

“Definitely nuts.”

I jerked him around by his shoulder, pinning him before he had a chance to break free. Then I shoved the gun down his throat, busting a tooth or two in the process.

He howled and gagged.

“I could very easily make it so you don’t leave this basement. Gagging on your own blood. Gasping for air. Watching the room darken as you slowly bleed out.” I put more weight on the gun and his eyes bugged out.

“Tell. Me. Where. Devlin. Is.” I pulled the gun away, keeping a hand at his throat in case he got any stupid ideas.

“Three,” I pushed the gun into the artery on the side of his neck.

“You’re too late either way,” he croaked.

“Two.”

“Your fucking funeral. And hers.”

I sneered. “One.”

“The construction site off of State Route 50 East,” he said, just as my finger tightened on the trigger.

I brought the butt of the gun down against his temple. Then used Aubrey’s pajamas to hog tie him, grabbed his keys, and sprinted up to the ground floor. I jumped into his car and sped down to where I’d left mine. Then, I put it in neutral and shoved it down the embankment.

You’re too late, I’d heard him say. On gut instinct, I sent Jace a message before starting my car.

Ind Grounds off SR 50. May need you, doc.

Jace: You find her?

I didn’t answer. I needed to beat him there.

I hit my lights and pulled up just as I was about to lose the cover of darkness. Once again there were no cars, no activity. I hated driving my car into a possible gunfight, but if I needed a quick exit, it was my best bet. Behind the building farthest from the road, I saw what was left of Merc’s car—just enough to ensure it was recognizable.

Damn Wilson.

When I was sure no one else was around, I parked and climbed out, keeping my gun handy as I surveyed the scene. A puddle of dried blood waited about twenty feet in front of the car.

Fuck. I had missed whatever had gone down.

Then, I saw something white taped to the Ferrari. I inched closer, listening for any movement around me. Standing just a foot away from the car, I lifted the piece of paper and flipped it over. The key was taped to the bottom, but the top was a copy of Katrin’s obituary—her name whited out and replaced with Aubrey.

“Sick. Fuck.” I dragged my hands through my hair, digging my nails into my scalp. Then I heard something scraping inside the trunk.

I tore off the key and jammed it in the trunk release. Then, I froze, preparing for what I was about to find. I lifted it slowly.

It reeked, blood, vomit, and possibly urine. I felt like I’d be sick, too, but I held it down. Aubrey’s face was ashen, lips pale. Another body laid behind hers—white, covered in blood, with blue, glassy eyes staring out.

My hand clenched on the edge of the trunk, and my eyes fell to the half-emptied syringe just under Aubrey’s hand, and the elastic band near her arm.

“Fucking bastard.”

Her hand twitched and something burned inside of me and erupted.

“Aubrey?” I whispered, thinking I may have imagined the movement.

She opened her eyes, staring past me with a blank face. I reached for her arm, but she flinched and pulled away.

“No. No more.”

“Come on, darlin’.” I fought through the anger to gently coax her from her protective ball.

Her glassy eyes focused on me, then her fingers tightened around the syringe. “I had to make it stop.”

“I know,” I said, doubtless he’d been drugging her all along. “Let’s get you out of here.”

I lifted her arm and pulled her upright.

“Are you real?” she whispered, her voice hoarse and shaky.

“Well, I’m not dream material, darlin’.” I took off my jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders, then lifted her out of the trunk and carried her back to my car. Her skin—covered in sticky blood and possibly other fluids—was cold and clammy against mine.

I heard tires and stared at the corner of the building, relaxing only when I saw Jace alone in the car. I sat Aubrey on the warm hood of my car, to allow Jace give her a once over before I packed her home.

“No,” she moaned as soon as I released her. She brushed off the jacket and wrapped her arms around me.

“Jace is here to make sure you’re okay,” I looked to Jace, desperation filling every breath as he slowly approached.

She pressed into my chest and hid her face. At least she was alive. That meant there was still a chance—for what? A life as fucked up as mine?

To relive a nightmare she’d never escape?

Jace squinted but kept his distance. “Is she bleeding?”

“I don’t think so.” But anytime I tried to look her over she clung tighter to me. “She’s covered in someone else’s blood.”

Jace’s face twisted into a question.

“I didn’t recognize him,” I said, nodding toward the wrecked car. “They were locked in the trunk together.”

Aubrey leaned away from Jace as he approached.

“Does anything hurt?” he asked, not even attempting to touch her.

“Nothing,” she whispered, closing her eyes. “Everything.”

“Get her home,” Jace said. “I’ll be fifteen minutes behind you.”

“Colt?” Aubrey whispered as I pulled her out of the back seat.

Her voice assured me that she was indeed still with me and reminded me of the price everyone around me paid for my actions—for my existence. “What do you need, darlin’?”

She had tears in her eyes, and her head bobbed to the side. “Is Isabella okay?”

I closed my eyes for a moment. All my firm, shakeless, unfeeling foundation was falling away. “Yes. She’s okay.”

As I pushed the door open, Jace pulled in the driveway. He must’ve driven like the devil was on his tail. A grave possibility in this town.

He climbed out of his car with a large bag, but I didn’t wait for him. I carried Aubrey to the bathroom with Isabella following and sniffing at Aubrey’s feet.

Jace came in behind us, now carrying both the bag and a chair so we could sit her down while we worked. I eased her into the chair and pulled away my jacket from her shoulders. Her hair was stringy, stiff, and tangled in an impossible mess.

“Can you tell me what hurts the most?” Jace asked, undoing her right shoe and pulling it off.

“My head.” Her voice grew weaker every time she spoke. I couldn’t tell if it was the drugs or something more.

“They hit you?” Jace pushed up her sleeve to take her pulse, but she flinched every time one of us moved or touched her.

She gave a faint nod. “Kicked. Punched….”

“Who?” I growled, fisting my hands against the back of the chair.

She shrugged. “Devlin…. Others….”

Jace reached toward her jaw, but she gasped and pulled back. “They hit you in the head?”

“No.” She went quiet for a second. “Everywhere else. My head hurts anyway.”

“Dehydration, probably. I can take care of that in a minute.” Jace looked up at me. “You couldn’t have put a bath tub in this place, could you?”

I started to pull off her sweater while Jace took off her other shoe. She whimpered and pulled away from both of us. Before either of us could say anything, I saw the square bandage on her arm.

“Fuck,” I breathed, inching the tape off her skin to reveal the tattoo underneath. “She has a fresh tattoo on her foot,” I said flatly.

Jace squinted at me.

“A purple snowflake.” I held up her arm and showed him the butterfly with a cherry blossom branch etched across her forearm. The skin was angry, red, and inflamed around the delicate drawing.

“That. Sick. Bastard.” Jace grunted, gently pulling off her thin sock.

Even the T-shirt she wore—one of Katrin’s favorite bands—sent Devlin’s demented message. Butterflies, snowflakes, heart-shaped lockets. Katrin was everything I wasn’t. And yet... She wasn’t what she seemed.

She’d been my weakness. For nearly two years, my everything. I knew even before pulling up Aubrey’s shirt what waited on her back. The butterfly on her left shoulder—one of the first things I’d noticed when Katrin had walked into a classroom wearing a black tank top and sat down in front of me. She’d flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder revealing the colorful design.

Jace stood and wet a cloth, but Aubrey ducked away from his touch and struggled to her feet instead.

“Shower. I need to wash it away. Long. Hot.”

Jace started to argue, but I pulled off my shirt. She lifted her hand and pressed it to my shoulder, holding my gaze. She was still there somewhere under the mess Devlin had left me with.

Jace sighed and backed toward the door. “I’ll get everything ready then.”