Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 96805 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96805 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
“You’re one?” The kid huddled farther back under the desk. It was the kind that had a full backside between sets of drawers.
“I am. Do you know where Boris Jagger went?”
The kid pointed to the wall with a shaky finger. “I don’t know how you open it, though. Those shelves are a door. They swing out.”
“Fuck!” Hollis grimaced when the kid flinched at his yell. “It’s okay. You can come out and we’ll get you home. Do you know where that is?” He’d seen some who’d been taken so young, they no longer remembered.
This one nodded, though. “Please. I want my mom.” He lurched out and wrapped his arms around Hollis’s neck and held on so tight, it felt like he had no intention of letting go. Hollis stood, cursing when he felt how light the kid was. Again, he was thinking the boy was only about thirteen. Barely. His gut churned. The cops looked sickened, and he didn’t blame them. He stepped to the side and managed to get the boy to let him go.
“Tell them your parents’ names and they’ll call them to come get you from the hospital. Okay?”
He nodded, looking a little stronger with the promise of seeing his family again. Hollis turned and started messing with everything he could find. He picked up vases, pulled out books. He felt up under shelves and in the corners, looking for some kind of lever, anything. One of the other cops did the same. When Hollis got to a lower shelf, he tugged on the first book and something clicked. He got his fingers behind the wood and tugged. The shelf swung out just enough for him to see that a man could indeed, get out this way. “I need a flashlight!” he yelled.
The cop behind him handed one over and he shined it behind the bookcase. “There’s a fucking tunnel!”
They hauled the desk out of the way and had the shelf ripped farther open within moments. They pulled guns and slipped into the tunnel, one by one. It wasn’t wide enough for more than one at a time.
Hollis followed but in his heart, he knew Jagger had run. All he could think about was Ian. Even if Ian had managed to get away from Big G, he’d be in even more danger with Jagger out there.
Because now, the man had nothing left to lose.
Chapter 3
Raised voices bouncing off the high ceiling and wall of windows looking down on the city managed to both ease the tension tightening in Lucas’s chest and send his heart pounding in panic. Days of dodging calls and listening to angry, worried messages had left him feeling that he was long overdue to come home and face the music. But he wasn’t ready. When he closed his eyes, he still saw Mel’s smiling face and heard her laughter. And it was always followed by images of Andrei lying on that cold concrete floor, naked and bleeding, so near death. He was trapped in that moment—couldn’t accept another possible course of action and couldn’t forgive himself for hurting those he loved.
As he walked through the front door of the penthouse, Rowe’s loud voice rose above the others, sounding exasperated and mocking. It was followed by something sarcastic from Snow. Ian laughed, teasing Rowe. His family. God, he’d missed them. But even as much as he needed to see them, there was someone he wanted to see and hold even more urgently.
Conversation stopped when he stepped into the room. He turned and shut the door so he wouldn’t have to look at all the eyes closely watching him. He was accustomed to being the center of attention at meetings and social functions, but he didn’t want this now, not with the people he loved so dearly. The people he’d betrayed…
He put his garment bag down by the door and was starting to turn back when he spotted Rowe already bearing down on him, his handsome face lined with worry. He barely managed to straighten, steeling himself for whatever came out of Ward’s mouth, when Rowe clapped him on the back of the neck with one hand and pulled him into a hard embrace.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Rowe grumbled against him. “It’s about damn time.”
A shudder ran through Lucas and he hugged his friend back, trying to ignore the burning of his eyes. It had to be fatigue. He’d been traveling for nearly sixteen hours with no rest, running on pure adrenaline and willpower. Frantic over that damn picture. Neither Ian nor Andrei had answered the phone when he’d called after receiving it.
Rowe eased his hold and Lucas started to step back, but Rowe tightened his grip on Lucas’s neck, keeping him close. “Stop. You’ve got to stop this. Now. No one blames you. I don’t blame you.”