Rylan doesn’t say anything else. Instead, we stand together, his arm around me, our gazes focused on absolutely nothing as we become totally lost in our thoughts. Thoughts of the past, of right now, and of the future.
I don’t know what else to say, what else to do. I can’t bring Ford back. I can’t go to Sebastian and beg for him to be a decent human, he’s past that point and there is no return. Absolutely none.
Rylan’s phone rings and the both of us jump, me practically out of my skin. I watch as he scrambles for it, sliding his thumb across the screen before he lifts it to his ear. I hold my breath as he grunts, then his gaze flicks to me before he turns around, turning his back on me and starts to speak low.
“Is he okay? What? Fuck. Hospital? We’ll meet y’all there. Russians?” He’s quiet for a moment, then lets out a low chuckle. “Nice.”
Rylan spins around, a grin on his face. Dipping his chin, he looks down into my eyes, talking low so that the rest of the room can’t hear him.
“He’s okay,” he murmurs. “He was given something, they don’t know what so they’re taking him to the emergency room, hoping they’ll be able to pump his stomach or somethin’. Sebastian and his guard are taken care of and I don’t want to know the details and neither do you.”
Tears fill my eyes, they fall as my body begins to tremble. “Get yourself together, don’t fall apart on me now, he needs you.”
“Okay,” I whisper with a nod as I inhale a deep breath.
“Load up in the cars, we got him back,” Rylan shouts to the room full of women and children.
The entire room fills with cheers of joy before it erupts in mass chaos as everyone runs around to collect their things and babies. I can’t help but watch in relief with a gigantic smile on my face.
He’s okay.
He will need time to heal, most likely, but he’s alive, and that’s all I care about right now.
That is all that matters.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
WYATT
Kirill grunts, not really liking the fact that I’m going to go up to old man Fuller’s alone. But I have to. If I know him, he’d shoot without question at a bunch of strangers rolling up to his place. If I could avoid coming here at all, I would, but I can’t. This is exactly where Sebastian’s tracking has led us.
“You see that purple paint?” I ask, pointing to the fence post next to us that has purple paint on the top.
Kirill’s eyes flick over to the post, then back to me before he nods slowly. “I do.”
“I forget y’all aren’t from Texas, but that right there means Fuller has warned you. He doesn’t need to warn you again before he shoots you.”
“You are joking?” Kirill asks.
Holding his gaze, I shake my head, slowly. “No joke.”
Leaving the men on the outside of the purple-painted fence posts, I inhale a deep breath and start toward his place in my truck, crawling across his entrance. I’m surprised that his place isn’t razor-wired all the way around, it seems that he would do something like that.
I suppose the purple warning posts are enough. I forget that not everyone knows what that means. The look on Kirill’s face when I told him a few minutes ago was downright priceless. I wasn’t fucking with him though. Old man Fuller can shoot me on sight and nobody would say a goddamn word.
Once I’m in front of his little cabin, I kill the engine to my truck, opening the door and jumping out. I listen for any sign of movement. Keeping an eye out for Sebastian or anyone else that looks shady as fuck.
“Stop right there,” a gruff voice demands.
I stop in my tracks, facing the front door of the cabin, and lift my hands in a surrender motion.
“It’s me, Mr. Fuller, Wyatt Johnson,” I call out loud and clear.
“Harlan’s boy?” he calls out.
“The same.”
He lets out a loud guffaw. “Well c’mon in, boy. Don’t know whatcha doin’ out these parts, but least you can do is come in for a spell.”
Going inside and visiting with him is the absolute last thing that I want to do, but if I have any chance of getting information on Sebastian, on Mr. Fuller’s property, I need to play nice. Climbing the creaky steps to his cabin, I follow him inside.
The place stinks and judging by the way he keeps house, which is to say that he’s got shit every-fucking-where, I’m not an ounce surprised by the smell.
“How’s your daddy? Ain’t seen him in a while,” Mr. Fuller mumbles as he roots around in his kitchen.
“He’s good, retired,” I call out.
Fuller grunts, then I hear his refrigerator door slam and he appears with two bottles of water. I thank him, taking a bottle and freeze. There is brown shit floating in the water bottle. I try not to make a face, instead, I just dangle the bottle at my side.
“Well, you drove all the way out here, what’s got you this far out?”
“Honestly, lookin’ for Ford Matthews,” I state.
He tilts his head to the side, and I watch as confusion crosses over his face. He doesn’t know anything about what’s happened. Clearing my throat, I look down at my feet for a moment before I lift my eyes back up to meet his and tell him the truth, or as much as I’m willing to say anyway.
“His horse was killed, he’s been kidnapped.”
“His horse?” Fuller asks, his face awash with anguish.
Fuller is a recluse, a man who lives off-grid, but he loves his animals fiercely, they are his only companions out here. He understands the loss of them more than he would the loss of a human life.
“Starlight was killed in the barn, Ford was taken, and his woman was just in the farmhouse, lucky that she wasn’t hurt, too.”
Fuller lets out a hiss. “Why are you here, Wyatt?” he asks, starting to put two-and-two together. Obviously understanding that he has something to do with Ford’s disappearance.
“You got a bunker, right?” I ask.
He frowns, nodding a couple of times. “You know I do, what’s your point?” he asks, becoming slightly defensive.
“Anyone staying out there?”
He nods, then shakes his head, his blue eyes lifting to mine. “Got it listed on one of them websites to rent. My cousin’s boy put it up there. He takes care of it all mostly. He takes a small cut, but I’m gettin’ older and my medication is expensive, it’s the only way I can make ends meet these days.”
“Whoever has Ford, I think he’s got him out there, Fuller. I’ve got a group of men, we’ve formed a search party and we’re hopin’ you’ll let us get back in there to see if he’s there.”
Fuller watches me for a moment, he licks his bottom lip, then shakes his head. “Let me call my cousin’s boy, see if he knows anything. I don’t want to get a bad review, he says that’s important.”
“They might kill him. It’s some drug addict from California, he’s come here to mess with Ford’s woman. Using him to get to her. I got her safe, but we need Ford back.”
I don’t know when he got a phone to make this call, but I don’t ask, it’s not my concern anyway, not right now.