Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 110671 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 553(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110671 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 553(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
Nevertheless, Gray enjoyed the moment and took a swig of his beer. For one day, for one early evening, he got to feel almost normal. Here he was, drinking beer in the bar where his boyfriend worked, he had two adorable boys to look after, and he’d been slinging jokes like he used to back in the day.
It was a wonder that Justin slept peacefully through the ruckus.
Seventeen
“Baby, wake up.”
Gray groaned and turned over, burying his face in a pillow that smelled like Darius. “Not yet… Where are you?”
“Willow texted.”
That worked better than a bucket of cold water, and the thought forced a memory upon him. The memory of having ice-cold water thrown in his face, then the feeling of the wet, scratchy, rough material of the burlap sack over his head, then the smells of mildew and piss…
Gray grunted and shoved the memory aside along with the covers, and he rolled out of bed, scrubbing at his face.
Fuck.
“Willow texted…?” Gray mumbled and squinted.
Darius was getting dressed. “She found the buyer’s other location. I’m heading over to her right now.”
Gray went over to the rocking chair and grabbed a pair of jeans from the other day. “I’ll come with you.”
Was this finally it? Could Jackie’s suffering be over soon?
Gray needed a miracle.
Once they’d gotten dressed, they gathered their wallets, phones, and keys, then headed downstairs and were out the door within a minute. Gray sensed the urgency in Darius and hoped this was really the moment they’d been waiting for. The moment they’d been training for.
There’d been something every day, be it cardio by doing yardwork, martial arts, or target practice with one of Darius’s handguns. Out here, no one would hear anything anyway. And the man had, like, eight different guns, three of which were rifles. Growing up in Washington, in a town where hunting was popular, Gray wasn’t unfamiliar with them, but he’d never owned a gun himself.
“You drive.” Darius tossed the keys to Gray. “I’m gonna call Willow once I have reception.”
Gray nodded and got in behind the wheel. Too bad the cabin’s Wi-Fi didn’t extend past the property line.
“I need to come up with a strategy for the Feds if Willow’s found all the intel we need.”
Gray side-eyed Darius as he drove onto the dirt road. “You’re not suggesting we wait for the agents, right? We have a chance to actually save Jackie. No way in hell I’m blowing that.”
For chrissakes, he had lost count of all the times Darius had said that the authorities couldn’t get shit done because of the bureaucracy. It was no wonder Gray didn’t have much faith in them. After all, his parents had sent Darius to find him not that long ago. The police hadn’t done it. Or the FBI.
It was scary, Gray couldn’t lie, but he couldn’t back down if it meant getting Jackie back alive.
“It’s not that simple,” Darius answered. “Doesn’t matter what vile piece of shit we save Jackie from. If we commit a crime, we could face jail time.”
“So, we don’t get caught.”
Darius smirked and rubbed a hand over his mouth, as if he were trying to hide it. “It’s possible I haven’t been the best influence on you.”
“You think?” Gray offered an incredulous expression. “Before I met you, I wouldn’t even jaywalk. Now I’m hunting down perverted rapists and firing guns.”
Darius chuckled. “Speaking of, when this blows over, we gotta get you your own permits.”
That was a perfect discussion for way down the road.
As they got closer to the bridge, Darius pulled out his phone and called his sister.
He had to be antsy, seeing as they’d be there in less than twenty minutes. Willow lived in Westslope too, only, in a more populated area across the river. She shared a small house with an aunt, where the second floor, a loft, was all Willow’s. It was one-part living quarters, one-part office. One big open space, with computer screens and gadgets everywhere.
“Hey. I’m on my way, but I wanted to call in advance,” Darius said. “Is Britt there?” That would be their aunt. “Okay, tell her to go see Grandma or something. I want privacy and no witnesses.” He paused, presumably listening to Willow’s response. Darius grinned faintly. “I forgot that was coming up. Can Elise fit ninety-nine candles on a cake?”
Yikes. That was one old grandmother.
“Why?” Darius became serious. “No—fuck no. Gray and I will handle this on our own. It won’t be a big op.”
Gray sped up as the road widened. Soon, they’d even reach a road that was paved.
“Well, don’t call him,” Darius told her. “A third person won’t help in that case—” He stopped, maybe interrupted, and sighed. “Squeezy. Listen to me. You say there will be limited options to hide. How would that change by bringing Ryan?”
Gray furrowed his brow.
“So, we’ll have binoculars,” Darius retorted. “I don’t need a marksman to see.” He grinned to himself. “You’re sweet, but this part of the game I’m pretty decent at, and—for fuck’s sake, quit interrupting me!” He blew out a breath. “You know what, I’ll see you in five minutes.”