When I scramble out after him, he holds up his hand to stop me. “I think it’s best that you stay here.”
“Like hell!” I shout. “My brother and boyfriend are in trouble, and I’m not just gonna sit on my ass while I wait for you to save the day.”
I push past him and start running for the diner. Hank’s right on my heels, pretty damn quick for an old guy. I tell him what I can between quick breaths, and he leads me away from the diner entrance and around to the kitchen door.
Nadia’s just pulling up in her old Escalade, arriving early to get ready for her shift. My eyes bulge and I wave my arms wildly at her. She frowns at me, lowering her window. “What’s goin’ on?”
“Not now,” I screech. “Trouble in the diner. Get outta here. I’ll explain later.”
“But—”
“Just go, Nadia,” Hank barks. “Get on home.”
Her face pales, but she doesn’t ask any questions, quickly reversing out of the parking lot and shooting down the driveway.
I share a quick look with Hank. “It’s nearly five. People are gonna start showin’ up soon.”
“Then let’s get this done,” he mutters, leaning against the outside wall.
We’re both still puffing hard after our sprint from the station, but Hank seems pretty calm as he takes out his gun and holds it down, looking like a real cop. I’ve never seen him in action mode like this. It’s surprising how I actually believe he could save us all from this thing. I’ve never trusted him before.
I guess desperation makes you do things you’re not used to.
I have to trust him right now. It’s not like I’ve got anyone else.
Easing the door open, Hank nods at me, obviously trying to tell me to stay put, but then I hear a young shout and a clattering of feet on the stairwell.
“Jackson!” I whisper, bolting through the door before Hank can stop me.
I run through the kitchen and end up tripping over a boot. My hands and knees smack onto the floor, and my blood runs icy cold.
“Michael.” My whisper is more like a broken howl as I scramble around his body.
Is he dead?
Don’t be dead! Please, don’t be dead!
I reach his swollen, bloody face and hold it gently. “Michael?” I whimper.
His wrists are zip-tied above him, so he’s secured to the metal rail beneath the sink.
“Do I smell gas?” Hank murmurs, sniffing softly as he steps around Michael’s body and checks him out.
He pushes his fingers into Michael’s neck, checking for a pulse. Instead, we get a feeble groan. Michael’s eyes flutter open, and I release the breath I was holding. It comes out on a whimpering gasp and I dip my head, fighting the onslaught of tears. I can’t fall apart right now.
“Where’s Jackson?” I manage to ask.
“I’m sorry,” Michael groans. “I’m so sorry.”
Another yell from up above makes my head whip around, and I move for the stairs.
Hank’s hand on my arm stops me. “Get him out of here.” He tips his head toward Michael. “I’m going upstairs to take a quick look.”
My gut pinches. I have no idea what standard police procedure is, but I don’t argue that backup hasn’t arrived yet. My brother needs help now, so I let Hank go without a word and turn back to free Michael.
Hank’s right about that gas smell. I don’t know where it’s coming from, but there’s definitely a stench in the air.
45
Just Go!
My body is vibrating with pain.
I’m pretty sure something’s broken. Maybe a couple of ribs?
Sloan went to town, kicking me and pounding me with his fists. He didn’t want the pleasure of putting a bullet in my brain. He wanted me to suffer first.
And I did.
But it’s his words that killed me more—his threats to hunt down Annie and make her suffer just as badly.
“You know what, Michael? I’m not gonna kill you yet.” He smiled down at me.
His image was blurry through my swelling eye, but I could feel the grin was evil more than anything.
“No, I think I’m gonna keep you alive until Buster brings back your girl. We’ll have a little fun with her, and then we can bury your bodies together. Now that is true love.” He chuckled, and the dying fight in me swelled up to a roaring rage.
“No!” I groaned, swinging out with my fist.
I clipped Sloan in the chin, knocking him off his feet.
Unfortunately, he recovered quickly. It helped that Luis pounced on me a second later and dragged my beat-up body into the kitchen. They tied me up, patting my head and mocking me.
“Now, you just wait right here while we go find your girl.” Luis started chuckling. “Hey, why bury these assholes? Let’s incinerate them instead.”
I couldn’t see what he was doing, but I heard a pop and a hiss. I strained my body to figure out what he’d just done, but I didn’t have time before Buster came through the door with a flailing kid in his arms.
“Lemme go!” Jackson hollered, pounding his fists on Buster’s back.
The guy wasn’t even flinching. “Shut up, kid!”
I lashed out with my boots, growling at Buster and jerking against my constraints. “Let him go!” I tried to shout, but my words came out wispy and pathetic.
All they did was score me a punch to the face.
Things went hazy for a minute after that, and then Annie was holding my face.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper again.
“Stop apologizin’,” she mutters, obviously frustrated. “These damn ties.” She grunts and stands up.
“You gotta go, Annie. Get out of here. Just leave me.”
There’s a rattling of cutlery, and then she’s squatting back down in front of me with a knife in her hand.
“Are you kidding me? I’m not leaving you here.”
“But the gas. You can smell the gas, right?”
She frowns and jumps back up, disappearing around the corner. “It’s the grill, I think.”
Knobs click, but the gassy smell still permeates the room. It sets off warning bells in my head, and when she crouches down in front of me, I try again.
“Please, go. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Sticking the tip of the knife between my hands, she looks at me, her blue eyes blazing. “I’m not leaving without you.”
With a little snap, she frees my wrists. My arms flop down, feeling like they weigh one ton each. My whole body is an aching mess, and when Annie tries to help me stand, I’m not sure if I can help her.
She grunts, straining to get me off the floor. “Come on, big guy.”
I groan and grip the counter above me, willing my body to cooperate. I’m like a newborn calf, my legs shaky as I lean against her and we tumble out of the kitchen. Annie’s obviously struggling to support me, and when we reach the bottom step, we end up tripping and thudding onto the gravel outside.
We both groan and my head flops back, the world taking a spin.
“I’ve got to go back in for Jackson.” Annie scrambles off me.
I reach for her, but she’s too quick, darting away before I can catch her. “No! Annie, no!”