“Newman—the man who killed Bradford and the others—was on his way to pick him up.” Whittley’s confidence was gaining traction, eating away at the ground Mitch had taken from him. “Landon is working as a security guard now, isn’t he? It was very amusing to discover that. It was also very disappointing that it wasn’t discovered sooner. But what’s done is done. And what will be done won’t be anything you’ll like. So take the goddamn needle out of my arm.”
Mitch let the phone ring until it went to voice mail. Then he called again. And then he got really fucking angry. “You call your dog and tell him to heel. Or you die. End of story.”
“You would lose your chance of getting the drug.”
“I. Don’t. Care.”
After a moment, Whittley sighed. “Can you dial for me? I’m a little tied up.” He wiggled his hands, then paled as he saw the syringe sway to an unheard melody—a dead march, maybe. “Take it out first.”
Mitch felt the truck stop and then heard a door open. Shit. He didn’t need to worry about the drugs—that woman was going to be the thing that kills him. Then Eden shouted Justin’s name and told him to open the door.
Home sweet shithole. He bent down next to Whittley. “As soon as we stop, you’re making that phone call.”
“Take the goddamn thing out of my arm!”
“Sure, right after you answer this question: Will Eden transform if she doesn’t take any of your tasty drugs?”
Whittley sighed disgustedly. “With as much as they were able to find out in Florida, no, she doesn’t need them anymore.” His voice intensified to a desperate-level. “She’s the answer to everything, Turner. A way for all of us to be normal, permanently, our sides integrated. It wasn’t what we gave her. It was something else. She has to know what did it.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard this one. Eden is the answer and all she has to do is stay in a cage and become a one-woman baby factory.” He stood. “I didn’t think it was funny—there was no punch line.”
“She’s the answer, Turner. Whatever she did. How can you not understand how important she is?”
I know exactly how important she is. “I’m going to take the needle out now, but if you’re not a good boy, it goes right back in.” He slipped it out, finding the cap next to Whittley’s head and popping it and the plunger guard back on.
Fuck. Fuck and ewww. Hopefully Mitch wouldn’t have to use it on himself. ‘Cause who knew what Whittley had picked up on all of the trips he took to hell to sell other people’s souls.
Of course, Hyde kept Mitch in pretty damn good shape, so anything floating around in Whittley’s veins was the least of his worries.
Hyde giveth and he taketh away. Yeah, that second part was the problem.
Chapter XXXIII
Mitch opened up the back of the truck to give Eden the not-so-good news about Landon, knowing she’d probably already paced a groove into the concrete floor. But one look at her made him reconsider telling her at all. She was practically growling. And while he’d gladly offer himself up for another session of ‘stress relief’, its effects would probably only last as long as their last session did. That kind of shit could make a guy insecure.
So with sex temporarily off the table and everywhere else, he needed to come up with a more permanent solution. One that didn’t involve Whittley’s death.
She hissed when he did the ‘give me a minute’ finger signal.
“Don’t come any closer, Eden. Not another step.” He went into the office area for supplies. The place looked like a crack house—unused syringes lying around, a bunch of random vials and bottles on their sides. Not very sanitary. If they made it out of this, he’d hire someone to keep all of their drug paraphernalia organized.
“Are you going to just ignore me?” she yelled. But she hadn’t followed, as if her feet were glued to floor, just like he wanted.
“No. Because I’m not suicidal. I’ll explain everything in a second. Promise.” He filled a syringe with something that might not actually kill anyone but looked truly toxic and would be painful as shit to inject. He’s switch the syringes when Whittley wasn’t looking.
Justin stayed about thirty feet away from everything.
“Smart to keep your distance from this, kid,” Mitch said over the angry sounds Eden was making. He positioned himself between her and Whittley before he told her about Landon. And congratulated himself on his forethought as he caught her mid-pounce.
“He and I have a deal, Eden. And I’ll make another with you—if he balks or says anything he shouldn’t, I’ll let you push the plunger.”
“You can’t use it on him. You need it.”
He turned his back to the truck and kept his voice low. “This one”—he held up the serum he’d now endearingly dubbed the ‘Bring the Bastard Back-7’—“is for me. But this one”—he held up the syringe he’d just filled—“is for him.” Brown was a great color for pants or dirt, but was a very bad color to see in a syringe.
“What is it?”
“No idea. I found it in a bucket near your little workstation over there. Does it matter?”
She looked over his shoulder. “No.” Her voice was cold, venomous. A one-word reflection of her mind. There was still a lot of work to do before she’d be herself again. The woman in front of him, grinding her teeth in anger, was someone else entirely. Almost without conscience and so filled with hate that she’d forgotten who she was.
He leaned even closer and whispered, “When we’re done here, we need to have a long talk.” And he might have to tie her to a chair to keep her from killing him.
Since there was nothing she could say to stop it from happening, Mitch jumped up into the truck and asked Whittley for the phone number. Before he pressed send, he eased the needle into the guy’s arm. He glanced to the edge of the truck where Eden was standing. And glaring.
“Don’t fuck this up, Whittley. I’d really prefer not to kill you.”
Whittley didn’t look down, trapped by the intense hatred in Eden’s eyes. “I’d prefer not to be killed.” His tone was dull, flat, all ego gone. Eden had done that to him. Kicking his ass for hours hadn’t done anything, but the expression on her face right now promised death—whether he helped them or not. And now she had the tools and the incentive to do it.
Mitch held the phone up to Whittley’s ear and leaned in close so he could hear both sides of the call.
It took a few seconds for someone to answer. “Who is this?”
“It’s me,” Whittley said. “Do you have them?”
‘Them’, not ‘him’. Mitch’s mind flashed back to earlier when Whittley had mentioned a scientist who didn’t know that ‘she’ would be brewing up more of his special serum yet. Danielle. The bastards had both of them. That explained how the asshole on the other end of the line was able to subdue Landon without one of them killing the other.
Getting two people out would be more complicated—especially when one probably couldn’t fight her way out of a daycare center.
“Yeah, I got ‘em,” the kidnapper said. “It was a huge pain in the ass, but I got ‘em.”
Mitch mouthed, “Where?”
Whittley’s face squished up unhappily, but he asked. “Are you already at the Shop?”
“Yep. Been here for a while. I brought a few of my boys here too and let them know that I’m not paying them—you are.”
“Very kind of you to pass on that erroneous information, but we’ll discuss it later. Make sure Sinclair is comfortable and don’t do anything to Landon until I get there.”
“You should be glad I picked up the phone. I didn’t recognize the number.”
Whittley paused until Mitch wiggled the needle. “It’s Colfax’s.”
“I thought you were bringing her over right away,” the man said.
“I made a small detour.”
“I hope you kept her strapped down.” When the guy snorted, Mitch instantly knew that he wouldn’t be able to walk away before making sure that asshole couldn’
t.
“Don’t do anything until I get there, Newman,” Whittley said. “Just keep things—”
Mitch pressed ‘end’ before Whittley forgot the rules. “Address?”
“5734 Lupton Ave.”
“It’s not an actual shop, is it? Because Landon hates shopping.”
“It’s a condemned building I own.” That aligned with what Alex had mentioned. So even if it was a trap, at least it was in the right place. Whittley looked at the needle. “I held up my end. Now it’s your turn.”
Mitch slid the needle out and capped it. “Here’s what’s going to happen: You stay here while I have a quick conversation with Eden. Then we go pick up my friends and make sure they’re okay. And then you and I go to your office for the pick-me-up and, if we have time, we can rent a movie on the way home.”
“And letting me go will be squeezed in between which activity?” He watched Eden walk away. “You people consider yourselves the good guys, don’t you? So aren’t you supposed to have some integrity?”
“We’ll let you go once all the duckies are in a row and everyone’s still floating.”
Funny how quickly everything had changed. A week ago, Mitch would’ve had no problem killing the guy, integrity be as damned as the rest of him. But seeing Eden shift into ‘lost’ mode made him realize how screwed-up his thinking had been. How screwed-up hers was now.
Whittley wouldn’t be allowed to live a happy life, but he wouldn’t be killed either. There was no way Mitch would ever trust the guy. As soon as he was free, he’d regroup and come at them again. But there wasn’t much they could do about it. Unless they killed the fucker. Or caused him enough trouble that he realized they weren’t worth it.
So Mitch had to find the high road and decide if it really was worth taking. And if he had to carry Eden over his shoulder and listen to her screaming, he would.
“I don’t have a lot of time, Turner. So hurry the hell up, and don’t get killed.”
Once Whittley gave up everything he knew, Mitch would release him. And then he’d start spreading rumors. Rumors that would inevitably get back to the Board Alex mentioned. And then he’d sit back and wait until the gauntlet was thrown. Right into Whittley’s face. And Eden’s hands would still be blood-free.
“If you’re a good boy, I see no reason to keep you waiting too long. But if you’re a naughty boy, I’ll go old-school on you. And it won’t be with a ruler.” He jumped down from the truck to go deal with the other troublemaker.
He found her in the office, changing her clothes. In times of war, jeans and tennis shoes are way better than a skirt and those little shoes that always look like they’re about to fall off. Plus, the jeans would be harder for him to get into. In times of war, the less distractions, the better.
He put his hand up before she said anything that would make this more difficult. “I love you but am very worried about what you might say right now. So let me talk for a minute, think about what I say, and then I’ll do the same on the way. Okay?”
She nodded and wrapped her arms around herself tightly, as if it was the only way she knew how to keep herself together. So he helped by tucking her into his chest.
“We need to get Landon and the doc out. That’s the only thing we should think about right now. Then we can worry about Whittley. Right now he’s leverage and he’s scared. And I don’t mind leaving him that way for a while. So put him out of your mind and let’s focus on Landon. Okay?”
She stiffened. “What about you? Am I not allowed to think about you either?”
“I’ll be fine. Until I’m not. But I should have enough time left to get Landon out and get back here. So thinking about me is fine, but worrying about me isn’t.”
He let her pull away from him as he called Justin over. “Got an important job for you, man. But it involves only your eyes—not your mouth, your hands, or your ears. Watch him. No talking to him, no listening to him, and absolutely no touching him. Think you can handle it?”
Justin nodded.
“Great. You do this and I’ll— You can’t drink yet, can you?”
“Not legally.”
“Well, since I’d never do anything illegal, we’ll have to figure something else out. Maybe…” What did kids do nowadays? Damn, I feel old. “Pick something and we’ll do it.”
Without hesitation, Justin said, “I want to talk.”
With much hesitation, Mitch said, “Yeah, okay. We’ll talk.” Whatever the kid wanted to talk about was something Mitch didn’t. Damn it. He should’ve offered to buy him something.
Oh, shit. If the kid was looking for a father figure, that had to be the first thing they discussed. Or…Mitch could avoid the conversation altogether by buying the kid a father. Someone to talk to, watch sports with, who understood what he was going through, who’d been in his shoes, who’d—
Oh, bigger shit. This wasn’t about hormones and girls and peer pressure. This was about hormones and girls and peer pressure and handcuffs and cages and monsters. Things that not enough dads were comfortable discussing with their kids nowadays. What a shame.
Mitch tried thinking positively—maybe he’d get shot after freeing the cop and Danielle. That’d be nice. “Yeah, okay,” Mitch mumbled. “We should talk.” Huh. The kid has teeth. And was showing them off. Oh, man. “Are you smiling at me?”
Justin put his lips over the pearly-whites and slumped away.
“Hey,” he called out, feeling like a colossal shit. “You should do it more often. Makes you look like a badass.”
The kid’s quick glance backwards let Mitch know he’d said exactly the right thing. Now, that was a first.
When they got to the car, Mitch stopped and took Eden’s face in his hands. “Don’t make me regret anything, beautiful.”
“What if I do?” she asked, a smile creeping onto her face. “You gonna throw me up against a car again?”
He smirked. “If we weren’t on a time crunch, I’d show you exactly what I’d do to you. But unfortunately, we’ll have to wait.” After a very promising and hard-to-let-go-of kiss, he released her. “Are you ready for this?”
She took a deep breath and nodded. One look and everything settled into place again. One moment and he had hope she was under control again.
“Get in and see if it’ll turn over, but be gentle.” When nothing happened, he popped the hood, leaned over the engine, and started tinkering, in case something was just loose and nothing was FUBAR. “Again!”
When he heard the engine come to life…barely, he wanted to kiss it. Instead, he shut the hood and prayed the POS would make it to where they needed to go and get them back, even if it had some bullet holes in it.
Eden scooted over as he swung himself into the driver’s side. According to the cell phone’s GPS, it would take fourteen minutes to get there. Not enough time to have a deep discussion with lots of tears and sighs. But definitely enough time to stew, trade worried glances, and come up with a plan. And maybe, just maybe, he’d also have a few seconds to think about what else Whittley had said.
Mitch didn’t tell her about the J-0026 because too much could go wrong between now and when he got his hands on it. If she had expectations and it turned out to be just more Whittley-bullshit, it would destroy her.
So he decided to wait. He’d figure out a way to distract her when they got to Whittley’s office and make sure it was legit before telling her anything. Honestly, he wasn’t all that hopeful about it. Sure, it would be great. Amazing. A miracle. But like Whittley said—it might not do shit for someone as far gone as Mitch was.
So he’d wait and he’d pray and he’d get his friend back. And then he’d start looking for miracles.
Chapter XXXIV
“I should go in first,” Eden said, knowing that Mitch was probably thinking the same thing, including the pronoun. “Once I figure out what’s inside, I’ll come back for you. If I still need help.” With only a sideways glance, she knew he was pissed. “Mitch, think about it—you’re still rec
overing, and I’m smaller and faster. I can take care of it.”
“That’s not what we need to talk about.”
“You said it first—getting Landon out is the most important thing right now. And I can get him out.”
He swung the car over to the side of the road and then turned towards her. “Let’s get this straight. Yes, you are tough and smart and a hundred other great things. But I’m not a pussy and I won’t be waiting in the car while you go into a dangerous place.” The intensity of his voice kept her from responding, at least vocally. But it created enough heat in her body to stave off three winters.
“I didn’t just return from the netherworld to let you push me around, babe. So don’t even try it. Because you will lose. As much as I love you, you will lose.”
“Fine.” Lame, but it was all she could manage.
He studied her for a moment, making sure she understood how it would be. “Fine.” He grabbed her shirt and yanked her towards him. Holding the nape of her neck, he tilted her head to exactly the position he wanted her in.
She held back until he took her mouth, until his kiss took all control away from her. She relented, leaning into him because she had no choice. Even if her entire being didn’t love him before, it would now. Because at some point, he’d reclaimed his power, and he’d claimed her.
“I’m glad that’s clear,” he said, releasing her and pulling back into the lane. Mitch had always been strong, but now? Now she could sense the change in him. The confidence, the direction. Ever since he woke up, he’d been different. She wondered if he even noticed. Another thing they needed to discuss.
Once Landon is safe. She gripped her thighs more tightly, trying to defuse some of her anger. Landon… Shit. After everything she’d put him through, he was still out there trying to do the right thing.
Their enemies were people, thinking and scheming people. Even though they lacked consciences and ethics, they thought things through. Throwing yourself at an intelligently designed wall won’t get you through it. There was a way over, and they needed to help each other find it.
Strange Case, an Urban Fantasy (Hyde Book III) Page 26
