Deserted: Book #3, Auctioned Series
Page 28
Gray went with the next step. “Do you want to go up there? It’s totally safe.”
“He will be so mad,” Jackie whispered.
“Well, let him. He won’t touch you anymore. Before this day is over, he won’t even be breathing.”
Jackie exhaled sharply. “You’re gonna…” He swallowed hard. “He’s gonna die?”
“They both are,” Gray told him. “Come on. Let’s get you upstairs, buddy.”
It took Jackie a shower, a glass of water, and an hour of sitting in the doorway of the back porch to clear most of his confusion. During that time, he kept coming back to how angry Chester was gonna be. Gray watched Jackie’s imminent breakdown unfold. In the shower, Jackie stared at the bar of soap for several seconds before he realized what to do with it. He got a shock when the sprinkle of water came on above him, and he was slow to react when handed a toothbrush with toothpaste on it.
Darius had somehow managed to push Buck—stuck to his chair—into the biggest bedroom. All so that Jackie wouldn’t have to see him. He wouldn’t have to hear him either, because Darius had taped his mouth shut too.
And then, sitting there on the floor of the living room, his legs sticking out onto the porch, a towel wrapped around his hips, Jackie stared into the desert and fell apart.
“You were so good back there, knucklehead.” Darius gathered Gray in a hug in the living room. “Both with him and the entrance.”
Gray released a breath and rested his forehead against Darius’s sternum.
“I mean it,” Darius murmured. “You may have a long road ahead of you, but sometimes you gotta pause and look back. Otherwise, you won’t see how far you’ve already come. The way you picked the gun off of Buck…?” He let out a low whistle. “You’re more confident. Quick on your feet.”
Gray summoned the faint spark of pride in his chest and held on to it. “I have the best teacher.” He lifted his gaze and kissed Darius briefly. “I should go see if he’s hungry. And remind him again not to stare into the sun.”
Jackie’s eyes had watered the second they’d left the cellar. He hadn’t seen natural light in months, and it’d left a mark. He would need plenty of time to readjust.
“How are we on time, by the way?” Gray asked.
“There’s no rush,” Darius promised. “Warren’s not due for at least five hours. I’m gonna see if I can get some more information outta Buck.”
Gray nodded and headed for Jackie.
He was careful not to scare him, or touch him right away, so he merely sat down next to him and hugged his knees loosely to his chest.
“Are you hungry, Jackie?”
Jackie shook his head, then shrugged. He wiped at his cheeks, tears falling continuously. “I eat once a day.”
That would be the microwave dinner Buck gave him at night, then.
“I can’t believe I’m going home.” Jackie became emotional again and cried into his hands. “Literally, Gray—I don’t—I can’t. I can’t wrap my head around it.”
“I know.” Gray’s instinct was always to reach out and comfort, but he refrained unless Jackie could see the touch coming. “It’ll take time. It did for me too.”
Jackie sniffled and wiped his cheeks. “Is there food?”
“Absolutely.” Gray didn’t hesitate. If anything, it felt good to have something to do. “I’ll make you something. You wanna stay here?”
“Yeah, I like the air.”
Made sense.
In the kitchen, Gray dug through the stacks of microwave dinners and ended up with three items from different boxes. Meatballs from one, mashed potatoes from one, and vegetables from another. If there was one thing he knew, it was nutrition. Jackie needed bland foods in small portions so his stomach wouldn’t get upset, all while building up his hunger again.
Darius came out while Gray waited for the microwave to ding.
“I don’t think we’ll run into any problems,” Darius said. “The brothers don’t call each other before Warren comes out. I checked Buck’s phone. He rarely has any calls registered at all. Or messages, for that matter. Last time he texted Warren was to tell him to buy frozen pizza—which also confirms our suspicion about Warren having another phone.”
“That’s something.” Gray leaned back against the counter and stuck his hands down into his pockets. “Jackie’s gonna need the shortest cover-up story in history to give to the authorities.”
Darius inclined his head. “I figured. Is he still disoriented?”
“Maybe a little, but more overwhelmed.”
“Understandable.”
The microwave dinged, and Gray took out the plate to make sure it was done. “Do you think our theory about an abusive mother still stands?” Because Gray sure did. He opened the fridge and grabbed the butter. The door was packed with condiments, but other than that… Some fruit and vegetables were going bad at the bottom, to the point where he definitely wouldn’t serve them to Jackie. Two shelves were empty. There was an open container of eggs, of which only one was left, and it had a crack in its shell. Oh, and a jar of strawberry jam without a lid.
“Definitely,” Darius replied. “Buck’s hinted a bit. Warren feels guilty about their mother giving Buck away. Warren’s off his rocker. He’s trying to give Buck the childhood he missed out on, and it appears to involve a twisted version of affection. I’m not sure who’s being punished and loved in this story.”
“Jackie,” Gray answered quietly. “He mentioned something. Downstairs—Warren would make them pretend and play different roles. And then outside, after his shower, he said he was done being their stand-in.” At Darius’s confused expression, Gray elaborated and tried to keep his nausea at bay. “He’s been forced to pretend to be Buck at a young age. Warren is either himself or their mother. I don’t know—maybe Buck doesn’t wanna take part in the games, or Warren feels a younger man has to play the role. Doesn’t matter. In the end, Jackie’s the one who gets punished. Regardless of what Warren wants to call it.”
Darius nodded with a dip of his chin.
“It’s… I don’t even have words for it,” Gray went on with a shake of his head. “And Buck just allows it to happen? Fuck that. Jackie’s been so abused by Warren that he calls Buck nice. Because apparently he never raped Jackie. He just watched and jerked off.”
He shuddered in disgust.
Darius’s jaw ticked with tension. “Don’t worry, we’ll deal with him.”
Good.
At a little past three, Darius got word from Willow that Warren was leaving work.
Then Darius spent a couple minutes going through the plan with Gray, because it was time to clue Jackie in on some details.
They estimated they had about three hours until Warren showed up, give or take, depending on traffic and how long it took him to grocery shop.
Three hours for Jackie to learn and rehearse what he could tell the police.
He had ventured out farther onto the porch at this point, but he stayed close to the doors. And while Gray sat down next to him on the floorboards, Darius passed them to go check out the trailer in the backyard. It would be Jackie’s hiding spot, if it wasn’t completely rusted up.
“What’s his name?” Jackie asked. “I don’t think you told me.”
Gray cracked his knuckles absently and phrased himself carefully. “There’s a reason for that, and it’s because the police can’t know we’ve been here when everything is over. The less you know, the better.” He met Jackie’s puzzled expression and elaborated. “We have no right to be here. My friend—” he nodded over at Darius “—has some connections we’ve used in order to find you faster. Faster than the authorities, anyway. And you know how the law works. We can finish them today, or we let the police handle it and there will be a trial. You’ll be the witness, you’ll have to face them again, you’ll have to relive—”
“Please,” Jackie choked out and shook his head. “I can’t, Gray. I can’t. Plus, I don’t want you to get in trouble.”
&nbs
p; “Then you’ll have to stick to the story we give you,” Gray murmured, kindly but plainly. “Can you do that?”
“Anything. I promise.”
Gray took a breath and revealed the plan to him. “First of all, everything you’ve been through up until today is your truth. Give the police all the details you can and stay honest, because we’re all part of a bigger case.”
Jackie nodded in understanding.
“The rest, we’re keeping as simple as possible,” Gray continued. “We’re gonna make this look like a murder-suicide carried out by Chester. He’s demented enough and has no friends. So, he decides he wants to off himself, and he wants his made-up little family to join him.” It brought Gray some relief to see Jackie processing what he said without difficulty. Gray watched him nod along and how his blue eyes flickered. “So, for the first time since he locked you up in the cellar, he takes you upstairs, and you don’t know where Buck is. You don’t see him. You don’t have to worry about those details at all.”
“Okay. Is he gonna stay taped to the chair when he dies, though?”
“Yes,” Gray confirmed. “And if you accidentally let that slip—that you know he was duct-taped to a chair, you can easily cover it up by, A: feigning confusion, or, B: saying Chester told you. And remember that, Jackie. It’s okay to be confused. It’s okay to get minor details mixed up. In fact, if your story is completely flawless—that’s when the investigators might think there’s more to it. So, don’t overthink it too much. Backtrack a little and ask for a break. Apologize—even though you don’t have anything to apologize for—and say you don’t quite remember. It’s fine.”
Jackie exhaled nervously and nodded. “I get it. Chester brings me upstairs. I don’t see Bucky. Fuzzy details, as long as I don’t mention that you and your friend were here. And then what?”
“Then Chester will duct-tape you to a chair too, but he’ll do a poor job of it,” Gray went on. “And while he starts pouring gasoline all over the place, you manage to get free. And you bolt out of the doors right here as he sets himself on fire.”
Jackie shuddered and started biting his nails. “I hope he suffers,” he whispered. “Does that make me awful?”
Gray gave Jackie’s neck a gentle squeeze. “Does it make me awful for killing the son of a bitch?”
“No…” Jackie shifted closer, hesitating a bit, before he hugged Gray’s arm. “I can’t believe you and your friend came for me. I thought… Part of me still thinks I’m gonna die here.”
“You’ll have a lot of ups and downs,” Gray murmured. “By the way, are you on any social media? When we get home, I will send you a number you can call to reach me—day or night. And then we’ll add you to the group chat with the other survivors from the yacht. When you’re ready,” he was quick to emphasize. “I just figure, it’s going to be overwhelming to be reunited with your family, and you might want someone to talk to. It’s possible I’m speaking from experience.”
“I definitely wanna call,” Jackie said. He eased away a bit and reached for his water on the ground. “Oh my God, I’m gonna see my mom and dad again. And my sisters.” He set down his water again and covered his mouth with his hand. “I’m actually getting out of here.”
Gray smiled.
Jackie took on a pleading look. “I’m not gonna mess this up, and I don’t want you and your friend to get caught. Is there anything I can do? Something else? I can help, I swear it. I won’t lose my chance.”
“Hey, it’s all right.” Gray patted the guy’s arm soothingly. “There might be something, but we’ll wait to see how you’re feeling when those two shitheads are dead. Okay?”
“Okay, but whatever it is, count on me.”
A rush of hope filled Gray. Maybe this would work out, after all.
Jackie would undoubtedly crash-land once he was in the arms of his family, but for now, his high spirits and determination meant the world.
He was a fighter.
Twenty-One
“ETA, ten minutes. He’s driving through Twentynine Palms now,” Darius said, closing the front door. “I parked the ATV behind the trailer—on the other side of the fence.”
“Okay. Jackie’s in there. In the trailer, I mean.” Gray rolled up the sleeves of his long-sleeved tee and glanced around the hallway and into the kitchen. Everything was in place. “He asked me not to get him until they’re both dead.”
“Got it.” Darius toed the edge of the rug with his scuffed boot, adjusting it so it covered the latch to the cellar. “Remember, no broken bones. It’ll show up in an autopsy.”
Gray studied Darius for a beat as he walked through the house for a final check. Something was bothering him. He frowned harder than usual, he was tense, and he’d repeated his instructions one time too many by now.
“What’re you worried about?” Gray closed the distance and palmed Darius’s cheek. “We’ve got this. Compared to everything we’ve handled before, this is nothing.”
“I know, it’s not that.” Darius pressed a kiss to the inside of Gray’s hand. “I should’ve gotten you a fake driver’s license. That way, we would’ve been able to fly home and secure our alibi.”
“Do you honestly believe we’ll need to?” he wondered. He’d seen Darius’s own fake identification. “I have faith in Jackie to leave us out. He doesn’t even know your name. And I told him—in case he accidentally mentions my name—he can play it off as delusions. Mixing up reality with dreams. And it wouldn’t be farfetched, you know that.”
Darius sighed and pulled him in for a hug. “I’m just antsy. I want it to be over.”
“Me too, but we’re almost there.” Gray tilted his face up, and Darius dipped down and kissed him. “You get into position in the kitchen. I’ll be in the bedroom.”
Their options to hide inside the house were limited, due to the windows and how easy it was to peer in from the front of the house. For Darius, it left one spot. He’d have to crouch down under the kitchen window. And for Gray, it meant hiding in the only room that had curtains.
“Wait for my signal, Gray.”
“I will,” Gray answered, somewhat patiently.
He disappeared into the bedroom where Buck was. The old curtains with flowers on them had been drawn already.
Gray drew a deep breath and made sure his knife was easily accessible, and then he eyed Buck. This fuckin’ guy… He stared back with a mix of trepidation and indifference. With his mouth taped shut firmly, he couldn’t do a whole lot, and he seemed almost okay with it.
“I lied earlier,” Gray admitted. “Part me always wants to understand. Even now. I want to understand how you could just let this happen. Because with Chester, it’s kinda simple. He’s fucking deranged. He’s sick. But you…? Are you lazy? Do you lack empathy to the point where you allow your brother to hold an innocent guy hostage in a cellar…as long as you get to hide out from the police? I don’t get it.”
And he probably never would.
At the sound of tires crunching on gravel, Gray buried his desire to figure the bastard out. It didn’t matter anymore. They would never hurt another soul again.
Buck grew restless in his chair, and Gray smirked faintly.
“Feel free to scream when Chester comes in,” he said. “He’ll head straight here, and Darius will be able to sneak up behind him.”
Buck narrowed his eyes and glared.
Gray snorted and turned his back on him to get ready. Blade easy to grab, a strip of duct tape prepared on the doorframe.
His heartbeat kicked up and thrummed a little faster as the front door opened.
“I’m home!” Warren called. “Bucky, are you in the back? I’ve had the worst week… Where are—” He let out a short yell when, presumably, Darius caught him. “No! Who—you. What’re—”
“Now, Gray,” Darius grunted.
Gray sucked in a breath, yanked the door open, and flew forward. Darius was behind Chester and had his arm locked tightly around the bastard’s neck. It left Warren’s arms
flailing and his eyes wild with panic. They widened further in recognition.
“Remember me?” Gray delivered a fist to Warren’s gut, at which Darius released him. Then Gray grabbed him by his shoulders, pulled him forward, and kneed him in the balls.
Warren choked out a cry and fell to the floor.
“You sick, worthless waste of space,” Gray spat. “You should’ve been a wet spot on a fucking sheet.” He kicked Warren below his rib cage before he fisted the fucker’s shirt, hauled him up a bit, and clocked him right in the eye. “Do you hear me, Warren? You’re worth nothing. You’re not worth the air you breathe, you’re not even worth a goddamn bullet.” Gray pushed him down again and delivered a final blow right between his legs. “The world will be a better place without you.”
Warren let out a wail of agony and curled in on himself right there on the floor.
Gray heaved a breath and rubbed at his chest, feeling like someone had punched the air out of his lungs.
“You okay?” Darius was watching him.
Gray nodded and retrieved the strip of tape he’d left in the doorway.
Once Warren’s mouth was taped shut, they dragged the vile monster into the living room. They left him on the floor, and Gray gave Darius a nod. There was no point in waiting. There could only be one outcome, and Gray had run out of questions. Or rather, he knew he wouldn’t get intelligence from someone as damaged and twisted as Chester Warren.
Darius’s expression was grim as he bent down and planted a knee on Warren’s chest. Then he pushed his hand sideways across Warren’s taped mouth and pinched his nose shut.
Gray rushed forward to hold Warren in place and keep him from thrashing.
“I’ve never particularly enjoyed watching the light fade from someone’s eyes,” Darius told Warren quietly. “Until now.”
Gray watched too. He witnessed the panic in Chester’s bulging eyes and how it slowly gave way to despair that flickered like a dying flame. His eyes rolled, tears trickled down, and his body jerked.