by Victoria Sue
Jake. Where was he? It was only the thought of what he might walk into that was keeping him sane, keeping him alive. Gael would give everything for one more kiss, one more gentle touch.
He heard the chains clang, and for a second, his heart crashed against his ribs as the support gave. This time Drew had not bothered to have him unconscious when he was let down, but the blinding agony in his arms soon took that choice away from both of them.
JAKE RUBBED his eyes. Coffee and panic were keeping him awake. Not that he would let anyone see the panic. He needed to be calm, clear. He might need a steady trigger finger and was praying he got the chance to use it. His hand kept drifting to his Glock in comfort.
“What are we looking for exactly?” Vance peered over Finn’s shoulders as he searched on the computer. When the team had all arrived, Connie had simply cleared the large table, brought down her laptop, and left them to it. Vance had added his so they had two to work on. “Property names?” Vance asked.
“Lawn contracts,” Talon and Jake said simultaneously.
Jake immediately pulled the other laptop toward him. In a few minutes, he was talking to the owner of Barrillo Nurseries, having gotten Mr. Gonzales to vouch for him. They had five possible addresses in a four-mile radius of Vance’s house. All long-term contracts, and those that they could confirm they had never dealt with a female property owner.
“We go to every one?” Finn looked up at Talon.
“But quietly,” Jake said, not giving Talon a chance to respond, “and not in your car.” Talon’s truck would announce itself to the neighborhood and warn Drew.
Vance picked up a set of keys from the counter and passed them to Talon. “But if you ding my mom’s, you get to tell her.”
They drove past the first house as a guy was just letting himself out to walk to his car and carried on.
The second house seemed deserted. They pulled up across the street, and as Jake put his hand on the handle to open the door, Sawyer leaned over. “Let me.” Sawyer crept around the back and then reappeared a few seconds later, shaking his head. Jake swallowed his disappointment.
The third house was odd. Set on the corner quite close to 275, which ran nearly overhead, it had two broken-down garages, a greenhouse with cracked panes, another garage set farther back, and an old Ford up on bricks.
“No way would Drew be living here,” Sawyer scoffed.
“It has a garage,” Jake said. “He’s not gonna leave the BMW out in the open with the number of cops that patrol around here. It’s set back from the road. No noisy neighbors. It’s a front.”
“Yeah,” Vance agreed, “and look at the gates.”
Jake stared. Both gates were fastened with a huge padlock. Someone wanted everyone to keep out, and it wasn’t because they were frightened the pickup was going to get stolen.
Jake’s heart picked up its rhythm.
Sawyer moved again, but Vance stopped him this time. “How about we see if we can look in the garage?” he suggested reasonably. “We’re gonna need you for when we get to the right house. There’s no dogs,” he murmured, sounding relieved.
For a big guy, Vance was stealthy. His legs were so long, he easily jumped over the padlocked gate. He walked down the drive, keeping close to the hedge on the left side. Vance took one look in the garage window and turned. The look he gave them was enough.
“What’s the plan?” Jake asked as Talon reversed the car quietly, then parked it around the corner, and they all got out.
“Finn, Sawyer, go around the back and check it out. I want to know if there’s any exits.”
Jake was grateful Talon hadn’t asked him, because he doubted if he could get his legs to actually work, and he wasn’t sure he would hear an instruction over the pounding of his heart. Jake gripped his gun and breathed. He had the most experience on the team with entering a building where there might be hostages. He could check houses and clear rooms in his sleep. He took another breath. They needed him focused. Gael needed him focused. He loosened his shoulders and caught Talon’s look, nodding imperceptibly.
He was ready.
Finn and Sawyer were back very quickly. “There’s a lean-to built on the back of the house. Looks like an old sunroom, but all the windows are plastered over and no door,” Finn reported.
“We go in together,” Talon said, and Sawyer took a step. “No.” Talon held his hand up. “You’ve already done this once. My turn.” Talon passed Finn his gun, knowing it would be destroyed as he walked through the wall, and turned. Jake gaped as Talon simply walked through the wall. Another second and the door opened. Talon put a finger to his lips unnecessarily as Finn handed him his gun back, and they all fanned out into the kitchen. Jake immediately put his back to the wall where he could see the hallway, and motioned Sawyer and Vance through.
Sawyer and Vance obediently went to the left, and Finn and Jake to the right. The house was empty, and they all converged back where Talon stood with his gun drawn at the entrance to what would be the family room. He nodded grimly to a plain wooden door in the corner. He had heard something. “Sunroom,” Talon mouthed.
Jake nodded and they lined up. Talon put his hand on the handle and the door opened. Before he was even inside, Jake could hear the appreciative laughter from Drew, and if he lived to be a hundred, he knew he would never forget that sound or what was waiting for them.
Jake took a step, but Talon blocked him with his arm. “Gael,” Jake breathed out, his eyes processing the horror.
“One move and he goes up in flames.”
Jake swallowed down the raw agony that seemed to fill him. Gael was simply hanging. He was conscious but barely. His arms were tied above his head, and he seemed to be trying to support himself by standing on one leg. He was naked, and—Jake steeled himself not to let his eyes fill—burned, badly. Raw. Seeping bloodred skin intermingled with black patches. Jake took everything in and his eyes suddenly locked on Gael’s.
There was no air in his lungs because his lover had none. For a second there was just the two of them, and Jake knew. He saw the brief flare of hope in the dazed, hurt eyes, and then something else. Jake hadn’t been the first through the door, but he was the only one Gael was looking at, and he knew without a shadow of a doubt that every day for the rest of his life, he wanted to open his eyes and see Gael looking back at him.
“Don’t try anything.” Drew raised the switch he was holding. “If I’m put to sleep”—he looked at Talon—“the bomb goes off as soon as I let go of the trigger.”
Jake blinked and took in everything. Gael was standing barefoot in a plastic square tray about the size of a small shower base filled, from the smell of it, with gasoline. The jerrycan off to the side confirmed it. Drew had a small black box taped to Gael’s leg, and some wires from it led to the trigger switch he was holding.
“And the switch is plastic—Sawyer—before you try anything, and yes, there are some metal parts in there, but think of this. How quickly can you reduce the metal? Are you willing to bet Gael’s life that you can do it in time?”
No one moved. No one breathed.
Jake took in Sawyer’s frantic look; he didn’t know. Jake would be willing to bet it wasn’t something they had ever tested.
“What do you want?” Talon asked, holstering his gun.
Jake kept his eyes fixed on Gael’s even as Gael’s slid shut and he sagged.
Drew noticed him watching. “Ah, yes. It’s positional. He cannot inflate his lungs properly, so the lack of oxygen is causing him to pass out.” He glanced at Gael. “A quick touch of the lighter usually brings him around, though.”
Jake didn’t know how he was still immobile. How he hadn’t lunged and wrapped his hands around Drew’s neck was completely beyond him.
“His skin has stopped protecting him, as you can see,” Drew continued. “Fascinating, he held his barrier capabilities for around seven hours, but when it failed the second time, I broke his ankle.”
Jake breathed through his nose. Kil
ling would be too good for him.
“What do you want?” Talon repeated.
Drew pursed his lips as if considering. “A fully fueled car and a briefcase with two million unmarked dollars.” Talon blinked, and Drew let out a peal of laughter. “Your face!” He sobered. “My apologies, I couldn’t resist.”
Gael stirred and tried to move his foot under him, his lips parting in silent agony.
Jake couldn’t watch this any longer. He moved restlessly, and Drew noticed immediately.
“Ahh, Jake. I wondered if your feelings ran a little stronger for your teammate. What a shame you didn’t stay partners. It would have been more difficult if I’d had to separate you.”
“We haven’t checked in,” Jake said. The fact that he sounded reasonable, that he could speak at all shocked the fuck out of him. “You know how Gregory gets when he doesn’t hear from us. Talon’s truck is just around the corner, and as you know, it’s very visible.”
Drew smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You’re assuming I am expecting an escape. My life has been over a long time.”
Jake’s heart pounded, and he didn’t dare look at Talon. Had Drew just told them he had no hope? Because if that was so, it was a game-changer. They always worked on the assumption the bad guys wanted out. If this was a suicide, then everything was fucked.
“I spoke to Hannah, Drew,” Finn said into the silence as everyone processed Drew’s words. “She said her mom was upset not to see you last month.”
Drew hissed a breath in. Something flickered over his face, and Jake took notice. Was it the “mom” comment?
“What happened to your mom, Drew?” Jake asked, hoping to capitalize on Finn’s comment. “Why did she leave?”
Drew scoffed. “I am fully aware of what you are doing.”
Jake shrugged. “So, indulge me. Was it your father’s illness?”
“Oh no,” Drew’s eyes lit up. “The Alzheimer’s was a fitting ending for such a lovely man. I used to visit. It was the highlight of my month to get a rise out of him when he was still lucid enough to know he was trapped and had no power to change a thing.” Drew seemed lost in his own mind for a second. “I stopped visiting when he no longer knew who I was.”
Jake knew Drew didn’t mean because the lack of recognition distressed him, like so many children in similar situations; he meant because he no longer had control over him.
Drew’s eyes flickered to Jake. “He lost his wife years before he lost his mind.”
“But she didn’t take you?”
Drew’s fingers tightened on the trigger switch. Jake knew baiting Drew was a huge fucking risk. He was playing with Gael’s life, but this had to stop, and stop soon. Gael seemed like he was barely breathing and had given up any attempt at trying to stand. Jake sensed movement from Sawyer and Talon, a bare stiffening of muscles, and knew they were both readying themselves to move. He knew Talon could do amazing things with fire. He’d seen him walk from a burning building. It was a huge fucking risk, but they were out of time.
“You had an older brother?”
Drew’s eyes narrowed. “No.”
He was lying—Jake knew he was lying. “That’s not what our information says. According to the records, you had a brother named Evan, who was three years older than you. Your mom left with Evan just after his twelfth birthday.”
Drew swallowed and looked at the floor.
“Why didn’t she take you, Drew? What was so special about Evan that she chose him?”
“Because he was a fucking freak like the rest of you!” Drew screamed and raised his hand.
Everything happened at once.
A single spark fell into the tray at the same time the black box disintegrated. Talon leaped forward and covered Gael as a wall of flames blazed up around him. Vance lunged forward to help, but the intense furnace beat him back. Drew screamed, not in pain, but anger, frustration, as Talon stepped out of the tray carrying Gael and the flames vanished instantly.
“No!” Drew screamed, and Jake only had a second to react to the gun Drew brought up, but Jake was faster and completely focused. He fired a single deadly shot right between Drew’s eyes and ended the reign of terror started all those years ago.
“Gael,” Jake cried and dropped to his knees by Talon. Finn was already on the phone, and Sawyer kicked away all the bomb fragments.
Gael’s eyes flickered once, and Jake leaned forward to cup his cheek. He placed a comforting hand over his scarred face—the one part of Gael he had only dared touch once, but the only part of him that didn’t hurt. Gael opened his eyes and they breathed together. “Stay,” Gael rasped.
Jake smiled and nodded. The one word seemed to clutch at his heart, and only a promise could be the answer. “Always.”
Chapter Nineteen
JAKE PACED until finally Finn wrapped his arms around him and brought him to a stop. “He’s in good hands, Jake.”
He was—Jake knew he was. Doc Natalie had arrived a couple of hours ago with her father, who was some sort of skin specialist and had treated Gael for his cancer. Jake just hadn’t seen Gael and was slowly going out of his mind. The hospital had given them a waiting room all to themselves. Finn had said it was thoughtful. Vance had said they were taking up too much room, and Sawyer had said all these enhanced in a small space was giving the other patients hives and they had to put them somewhere else.
Jake had seen some of the alarmed looks on people’s faces. Talon in particular, striding about seminaked because most of his clothes had burned away. In fact, he had caught Finn rolling his eyes when the nurses fought over which one of them was to find him some scrubs he could wear.
Jake sagged against Finn and just enjoyed the comfort for a second. “You’re just happy it’s not you in there for a change,” he mumbled, straightening up, and caught a flash of answering humor in those green eyes.
Jake’s gaze roved over the people sitting or standing around. The team. Lieutenant Connelly had brought Connie, complete with six or so huge flasks of coffee and sandwiches that Connie was happily distributing. Gregory was there, although he had spent the majority of his time on the phone, trying to unravel everything. Jake had given over his weapon as soon as the cops had arrived, but he had flatly refused to be interviewed until he’d safely seen Gael to the hospital. Talon had stepped forward and overruled everyone, so Jake had ridden in the ambulance with Gael. Not that he could even hold his hands, though. They were both burned and swollen so badly, Jake was expecting the doc to come tell him Gael had lost his fingers, or worse.
“Jake? Talon?” Doc Natalie appeared, smiling, and beckoned them both.
Jake rushed forward, but she turned and led them into a large private room. There were four other men in white coats, and two in scrubs. His gaze shot to Gael, lying on the bed, and his heart nearly stopped. He looked gray. His eyes were closed, but his chest rose and fell steadily. He was bandaged everywhere, and the tubes…. He had several IVs, a ton of tubes going in and out, and a cradle keeping the sheet off his legs.
“Jake, this is Dr. Goran, and this is my father, Dr. Edwards.”
He shook hands politely, barely able to take his eyes off Gael.
“Gael has amazed us all. His skin barrier has somehow protected his joints, but he was conscious when he was first brought in and told us that he was lowered every time he was drugged because the lunatic wanted to make things last.”
Jake was having difficulty processing the words.
“His hands?” Talon asked, and Jake blinked as his eyes smarted in gratitude as Talon asked what he wanted to know but couldn’t seem to be able to get it together to speak.
“Anyone else would have needed them amputated,” Dr. Goran said bluntly.
“Anyone else wouldn’t have survived,” Dr. Edwards added. He looked at Jake. “The main issue for a person being tied, suspended like that, for any length of time is breathing.” He winced. “It’s how most prisoners used to die from crucifixion. They suffocate. It is why he kept
passing out.”
Jake inhaled a ragged breath in alarm.
“No, we don’t believe there has been any long-term damage because of the lack of oxygen,” Dr. Goran assured him. “His burns have already showed the rate of improvement we lesser mortals would take a week to develop.” He smiled. “He’s going to be with us for a while, and I would recommend skin grafts ordinarily, but my colleague here tells me his skin would simply reject a graft like a foreign object, so there may be nothing I can do about his scars.”
“He’s asleep?” Talon asked.
“Sedated,” Doc Natalie explained. “His burns needed cleaning and that is incredibly painful, and we had to sedate him to prevent his skin from reacting to what we needed to do. We also couldn’t insert any IV’s until he was sedated and had to use gas to sedate him.”
“Can I?” Jake cleared his throat. He wanted to sit with him.
“Actually, yes.” The doc smiled, guessing at what Jake wanted. “But only two of you at a time. In our experience, family helps patients heal faster, and he’s going to need all the help he can get. We just might need you to step outside so we can check his dressings, etcetera.”
Jake didn’t need to be told twice, and he left Talon to ask the other questions he needed to.
Over the next twelve hours, Jake never moved except to go to the bathroom. The team took it in turns staying with him. He was miraculously provided with his toiletries from home and a change of clothes, and a very concerned nurse even swapped out Jake’s chair for a reclining one because she was worried he was going to make himself sick.
In the end, after he had nearly passed out himself, Vance told Jake he could either shut his eyes in the chair, or he would bodily carry him out. Jake didn’t doubt he could do it, but it was Connie who finally got him to switch off. She had been sitting quietly, holding his hand for five minutes, and Jake suddenly realized he was crying. Within seconds he was wrapped up in her soft arms and was sobbing his heart out. He didn’t even remember falling asleep after that.
