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Rather than take her back to his truck, he pulls her to a sedan where another man is waiting with the trunk open, and together, they toss her into it, and I can just see her hit her head on something before they slam the trunk shut and take off.
“Run it again,” I say, my voice hard and full of fucking murder because those two men are going to die slowly and painfully. “Do we know them?”
“I’m running facial rec, but it’s grainy because the camera has to be forty feet in the air, and it’s not like the city invests in great equipment.”
“Follow the fucking car, Julian.”
My brother growls, and I look back to see him glaring at me.
“I love you, and I know that your wife is missing and you’re freaking the fuck out, but tell me to do my job one more time—”
“I have food,” Natasha says from the doorway, carrying a tray, and Julian’s whole body relaxes. “Snacks and stuff. I know you won’t eat a meal until we find Rina, but have some cheese and meat and stuff. You need it.”
She sets the food on a sideboard by the window, stops by Julian to give him a kiss, then smiles at me and leaves the office.
“Okay, I get it,” Julian says, deflating a little. “If anyone had her . . . I’m on it. I know they went south, and I’m following them on the traffic cams, but the system is still slow as fuck.”
My phone rings, and I see it’s the hospital.
“St. James,” I bark into the phone.
“It’s me,” Asgood says with a sigh, and I just know she’s going to give me bad news. I made her go to the hospital to see to Spider herself. She has privileges there, and she’s the only one I trust.
“Just tell me.”
“He’s doing better.”
I pause and my eyes close in relief. “Jesus, I thought it was more shit news.”
“He’s not ready for a marathon, or to go back to work for you yet, but we’ll get him there. Don’t worry about him. I’ve got this. Go get my favorite nurse back.”
“Thanks, Doc.”
I hang up and turn back to my brothers. “Spider’s gonna be fine, now let’s find my wife.”
Forty-Nine
RINA
It’s been too long.
My lips are so chapped that they’re bleeding. I can taste it. My hands are numb because I’m sitting on them, but if I don’t, I’ll lash out at the fucker standing guard, and he’s been given orders to kill me if I move, and I’m pretty sure that’s why they didn’t tie me up. Psychological torture.
So, numb hands.
It’s hot as fuck in this little building. None of the windows are open, and of course there’s no AC, so with the heat from the desert, it’s probably about a hundred and twenty in here, easy.
And it’s the middle of the night.
There’s one dirty window, so I know the sun went down hours and hours ago. I’m exhausted, but I’m more scared, so I refuse to sleep.
Because what if Damien comes back and hurts me again?
Every few hours throughout the day he came into the building to taunt me. He insists that Carson’s brothers are all dead, and he laughs about it. Then, when I smart off, as I always do when I’m scared, he hits me.
So far, he hasn’t hurt my already-injured hip. Hopefully, he won’t find out about that little soft spot because I’m quite sure he’d use it against me right now.
And he told me that the torture begins in the morning.