SURE (Men of the ESRB Book 3)

by Hollis Shiloh

  I hung up, shivering inside and out. Ellery and I meekly handed our phones up. I put an arm around him, as much for comfort as to offer it. "He says go along," I whispered, quiet as I could, so quiet I wasn't even sure he heard.

  But he nodded, a feeling of understanding inside him. There was a flight-or-fight feeling in Ellery, a feeling he was familiar with from many bad days. You did what you had to to survive, and you could have a breakdown and a panic attack later. He'd been in situations like this before, I realized with a sinking pain in my chest. Not kidnapping, but being in danger, not knowing if there was a way out, or if anyone would come to help him.

  In the mental health facilities where he'd been kept and drugged up? Or elsewhere? I hugged him against my side firmly with one arm. He needed to be kept safe — and here I was fighting my own terror. I didn't want him to have any more bad dreams to add to his stockpile.

  We were both shivering, but he told me, "It's all right." Then he said, in a louder voice, "Where are you taking us?"

  "I'm afraid I can't tell you that," said the driver.

  How long had he waited for us? Was it a real cab, hired or stolen? And what would happen next? All I could do was hold on to Ellery, and think desperate thoughts about escape, and wait.

  #

  As the cab pulled to a halt in a suspiciously empty-warehouse-looking neighborhood, Ellery's hand slipped into my and offered . . . was that a reassuring squeeze?

  "It's okay," he whispered, leaning close, his lips tickling against my ear, his words so quiet I almost couldn't hear. "I'm getting something. I think . . . it's okay."

  Then he did kiss me, and that made me smile and edge away in spite of myself. His mouth really did tickle. Apparently I have ticklish ears.

  He gave my hand another tight squeeze, and I could feel him smiling. He was relieved . . . and thinking hard. I hoped that was his talent working, and suspected it was. Ell wouldn't lie to me, and wouldn't be convincing if he did. He really did think things were going to work out in our favor.

  "All right, out of the cab," said the driver. His emotions had been nearly flat the whole way. It was disconcerting to be in such a state of anxiety myself while he was so calm this could've been all in a day's work for him. It probably was. As long as his day's work involved absconding with empaths and clairs.

  Ell and I got out of the cab awkwardly, unable to hold hands the way we wanted to, but not wanting to get separated. We stood outside it finally, side by side, pressed close. His hand found mine again and held on. I was relieved, even though I'd been frightened to take his hand first.

  Why? Did I care if they mocked us for being gay? We were, and there was a lot more serious stuff at stake here than the captors thinking we were unmanly. If anything, maybe prejudice against gay people would make them underestimate us.

  I wondered how much there was to underestimate. Neither Ell nor I was very large. I was stronger than I looked, and better in a scrap, or at taking a punch. But there was no denying I was small and not unbreakable. And Ell was much less of a fighter than I.

  Still, his confidence was greater now, and he felt . . . glad about something. I really hoped this was his talent working on overdrive, and that he knew what to do next. I didn't.

  I was getting something, people emerging from shadows. I was getting their emotions before I could see them. Ah, there they were: two shadowy figures emerging, and one staying behind, steady and firm. I suspected from the cold, metallic gleam of his emotions that he was holding a gun trained on us, in case we ran. From the other two I wasn't getting anything much friendlier.

  One man was cold enough that he was almost emotionless. The other was smug, dangerous, and slightly nervous — which didn't make him any safer, to my line of thinking.

  I wished I shared Ell's confidence, because I was getting more and more anxious as they approached, my breath coming in funny little gasps I tried to gulp back, terror making me tremble all the way to my stomach.

  Ell squeezed my hand harder and leaned against my side. "It's okay," he whispered.

  But how would he feel if he knew we had a gun trained on us?

  "Hello," said the smug man, who was clearly in charge. They were walking side by side, but he was the one in control, I could tell. I was getting very little off the other man, like he had nothing going on inside at all and was completely shut down, and I was starting to wonder if he wanted to be.

  Was that the weakness we were going to exploit so we could escape?

  "Hello, gentlemen," said the smug man. He was feeling clever, but also edgy. "I apologize for the means of contacting you, but you're both very hard to get hold of, you know."

  "Are we?" I asked. My hands were still trembling, but I congratulated myself that my voice didn't. Ell gave my arm a squeeze.

  "I'd like to offer you a better job than you currently have. The pay is excellent, and I think you'll find the standard of living could easily double for you both — at least."

  "That's all right. We're happy where we are," said Ellery.

  "Ah, but you haven't heard the offer yet."

  "That's all right," said Ell again. "Can we go now? We have a flight to catch in the morning. It's been a long day."

  "You need to listen to—"

  "He's not going to," said the blank man, interrupting. "He's not interested."

  Wait, was he reading Ellery and me? Did that make him an empath as well? He'd seemed so emotionally dead that it really surprised me.

  "If you have your own empath," I said to the smug man, "what do you need me for?"

  "Well, I really need Mr. Smess, here," the man said jovially and with far too much confidence for my peace of mind. "We'll gladly hire both of you, of course. I can understand you don't want to be parted, especially now that you're in a relationship."

  Great. Clearly, some surveillance had taken place. I felt slightly violated. I wasn't ashamed of our relationship, and they could've gotten that information from any number of sources — it was probably in a bunch of files tucked away here and there, some with less security than others — but it still felt creepy hearing him mention it that way. Like he was in the know about us, about our lives, and wanted to use our feelings for each other to pull our strings. Puppet-mastering us, the way he was probably doing to the dead-feeling empath facing us.

  I wished the light was better so I could see the man. Naturally I was curious about another empath. It's a lonely life sometimes. I was trying hard, underneath everything, to get a read on him, but nothing doing.

  Was he blocking me? Could empaths do that? I didn't even know; we certainly hadn't been taught about that at the ESRB training facility.

  Then again, since I did have a low ranking, I probably wouldn't have been trained in anything like that anyway. It wasn't something I could've done, so maybe they hadn't bothered telling me? I was starting to think there were a lot of things the ESRB shared only on a need-to-know basis. They being the ones who decided who needed to know, of course.

  "We don't want to work for you," said Ellery, his voice clear and calm. "I'm sorry, but we have to go now." He turned to go, tugging on me to bring me with him. I followed numbly. They weren't going to let us get away, but I still would follow him to the ends of the earth. He was being brave and calm, which amazed me.

  "No," said the man from the taxi, stepping forward to stop us.

  There was the quiet pock of a silenced gun, firing. He went down immediately, knocked back by the gunfire. I froze, staring. Blood was spurting from his upper arm.

  "You'd better attend to your friend," said Ellery in a voice that sounded calm. I could feel his fear and shock underneath, though. He tugged my arm, needing me to follow him.

  Had he foreseen this? Even if he had, it had still shocked and unnerved him. I followed closely. The smug man had lost some of his smugness, and his companion had felt a brief jolt of panic. Now he was back to no emotions — or such dim ones I wasn't able to sense them from this distance.

  Meanwhi
le, Ellery was leading me off into the night.

  I wasn't close enough anymore to get something from the man waiting with the gun. What was he doing?

  Could he have been the one who fired at the taxi guy? I dismissed that thought immediately — it made no sense — and focused on getting away with my boyfriend. Or at least giving it a damned good try.

  We couldn't just stand there and shiver while someone was shooting, could we? And the gunman, whoever he was, seemed to be on our side, so we could hope to not fall down dead at any moment, shot through the back.

  All the same, I had a crawling feeling, especially in my cranium, imagining things I'd rather not see in vivid detail. From Ellery's fast breathing and extremely nervous vibes, he was thinking somewhat the same thing.

  "We need to hurry," gasped Ell.

  "I got the idea," I muttered.

  We were holding hands in the dark, hurrying, halfway tripping over our own feet. The parking lot was flat and even, so it was only our speed and anxiety and the dim lighting making us clumsy. Why did everything have to be so empty? I wished hopelessly for a large crowd to lose ourselves in.

  Nobody seemed to be following us, but I didn't trust that — not when my understanding of my skills had been severely shaken and I couldn't even sense the other empath, not really, and there was a gun involved.

  After we'd gone a bit farther, Ellery seemed to lose his certainty, stumbling more, looking around more, his anxiety increasing. He could hardly believe we'd gotten away. I needed to ask him about what part of that he'd sensed, if any. He'd seemed very sure and brave and in control of himself for a while there.

  I was still holding on to his hand tightly, but my other one was shaking hard. Now I took the initiative he seemed to be losing. He could probably tell I was as nervous as he was, but my street smarts were kicking in. Yes, we were far from civilization, but not that far; I could see the city lights in the distance, and the parking lot was clearly in a somewhat industrial area. If we hurried, we could probably hide out till we could get some kind of help — or at least find a cell phone. My mind started working overdrive.

  With my ability, I could sense hostility aimed at us and hopefully get us away from it. With his, he could get glimpses of danger and steer us away. We had twice the resources. And Kevin was on the way to rescue us, so make that three times as many.

  Of course it didn't feel like it just then, but all the same, that was the truth. I reminded myself of it as my feet hit grass instead of parking lot. "C'mon," I said. "We're getting somewhere."

  "I w-wish I had my phone. Did that man get shot? Do you think he's . . . ?"

  I hadn't heard anything behind us, so I didn't know what might be happening. I almost wished there was a ruckus; maybe somebody would call the cops, then. But it was a quiet area, so maybe there was nobody close by to call the cops.

  "That looks like a gas station up ahead," I said. "Let's go there."

  "O-o-okay." Ellery's teeth were chattering almost too hard for him to talk. I wondered if he was going into shock. It was a cool evening, and we'd both had a big scare. At least he was wearing a suit, so he should be warm.

  "Let's keep moving," I suggested, squeezing his cold hand. I would pick him up and carry him if I had to, but it would slow us down, maybe enough for the bad guys to get their act together.

  Or maybe they already had their act together, and the creepy empath was following us, silent and vampiric.

  We stumbled over uneven grass and weeds, cut across two small roads, shying away from the light, and finally reached the outskirts of the gas station. It was lit up and bright inside, but not busy. There was a big rig parked along the side in a space clearly meant for that. One car was pulling out; a guy in a baseball hat was filling up his pickup, and a couple of vehicles were parked by the entrance, probably people buying caffeine-related products inside.

  "Will we make better t-targets here?" asked Ellery, his voice rising with a note of hysteria. "And — and get picked off?"

  "You were doing so good. Come on. You'd sense if that was going to happen, wouldn't you?"

  "Y-yeah. Probably. I th-think so. Unless I d-didn't. Did he really shoot that guy? I don't feel very well, Peter."

  "Let's call the cops and then Kevin, okay? Stay with me, honey. You did great, so try to stay calm." He'd done better than I had, but now he was starting to fall apart. I hoped I could take care of us both, now that it was my turn.

  #

  I suppose the fact that we were wearing expensive suits worked in our favor. Although we had come in from the night panting, disheveled, and wild-eyed, we were given access to a phone after I shared a disjointed version of what had happened.

  First I called the police and reported a shooting. I couldn't think what else to report, so I hung up after giving the address, and then called Kevin. I had to dial twice, because although I knew the number by heart, my stress level made my dialing unreliable.

  I told him more. Ellery was sitting on a plastic chair at a plastic table meant for patrons to sit and consume coffee and sandwiches. A sympathetic older woman who looked much tougher than she acted was keeping an eye on him, encouraging him to drink some coffee and take deep breaths. Ellery seemed to bring out her protective instincts. I couldn't blame her.

  The few patrons and the employees were suspicious, incredulous, and fascinated by the crime, and a few of the people who'd been buying things decided they wanted to get lost before the cops showed up.

  "I have to work, man. I can't be staying around and giving statements all night long."

  It felt like days had passed since we had first stepped into that taxi, but it was still the same night.

  Kevin assured me he'd been in contact with the ESRB, and would liaise with the police. He was also coming down by helicopter to see us himself.

  "Be safe," I warned him.

  "You too," he said.

  After that, it was a long, dark night. Everyone was kind, even the police officers who showed up to investigate and take our statements. We had badges to flash, after all. But I wanted to be home, and Ell was done for, too.

  We ended up being escorted to the police station to answer more questions and be kept safe till someone could come to pick us up. I knew it was for our own good, but it felt like we were being punished for someone else's crime. Like the very fact of our ESRB rankings made us targets, and it was probably all our fault anyway.

  To be fair to the cops, they didn't act like that. It wasn't like the station where I'd worked. Apparently we'd been taken far enough to be in another county, so the police officers we dealt with were, refreshingly, strangers and not the captain and his officers there to look down on me.

  I stayed close to Ellery, sometimes holding an arm around him and letting him lean against my shoulder. Even hopped up on coffee, he was exhausted. I wanted him to know I was here for him, and not going anywhere.

  We didn't get much time to talk privately, not that either of us was really in the mood for it, but I wondered how he'd known we could get away, and if he had any clue what had happened.

  #

  Twenty-four hours later, we were back home. I felt our time away must've been one long nightmare, and neither of us was quite back to feeling like himself, but we were once again safe, and Kevin was hiring security guards to go with us whenever we had to leave the building.

  The gunman and the two strangers from that night had cleared out. The taxi driver alone had been caught. He was currently under protective custody in the hospital and would be incarcerated as soon as possible on kidnapping charges.

  Since the man wanting to con us into working for someone else hadn't told us who he was connected to, we had no further leads to offer the ESRB or the police.

  From what I understood, the ESRB wanted to keep hold of our kidnapper until he'd given them some good information, and so far, he wasn't talking. They also, of course, wanted to be hard on someone who would try to hurt their agents.

  They were probably go
ing to lock him up and throw away the key, which should've made me feel better than it did.

  Kevin said the smug man had almost certainly been some kind of fixer for a corporation, trying to poach us from The Shardwell Group. Even the good ones sometimes skirted pretty close to the line, legally; he'd clearly crossed it.

  The man who'd driven the taxi had no police record, but his name was connected with some inquiries that the ESRB and police were looking into with a fine-toothed comb.

  Kevin was fascinated with the whole "empath with no emotions" thing, and asked me about my theories.

  I had some, but they were all scary. So, when I wasn't talking to him, sleeping the uneasy sleep of the emotionally traumatized, or trying to comfort and stay near Ellery (which was most of the time, to be honest), I decided to call the person I hadn't really wanted to talk to for some time.

  Colin Gillis was my ex from the ESRB. I'd met him there, and we'd ended up together. He worked there, and he was a good guy, gentle and kind and hot. He'd been a decent boyfriend, too. I still felt bad about the way things had ended. I'd been a jerk and scared him off, rather than share what I was going through. I'd preferred to be an asshole than look vulnerable and hurt.

  If I'd broken down and cried and told him what I'd been feeling, I'm sure he'd have supported me through it all. But at the time, I'd rather have slit my wrists than do that. And to be perfectly honest, I'd come closer to doing that than I had to opening up with Colin.

  I felt like Colin was a 'could've been' and 'close but no cigar,' and yet more evidence that I was really good at sabotaging relationships. I'd had a chance with him, an actual chance. But I couldn't handle that, and he couldn't be there for me in the way I needed.

  Thinking about Colin was always a bag of mixed, but mostly sad, emotions. I felt like such a loser when I thought about him.