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But despite their relief, neither Ian nor Rowe seemed inclined to get off the cold floor. Ian closed his eyes and let Rowe’s arms tighten around him. Rowe didn’t speak, but Ian could guess that the same thought was running through both their brains. They’d gotten lucky. Jagger was definitely watching the penthouse, watching the team that had remained in Cincinnati. And too soon, their luck was going to run out.
Jagger needed to be stopped.###
“The kid puked.”
“So? You don’t plan to kiss him, do you?”
“Nah, but I think he gave him too many roofies.”
“Is he breathing funny?”
“Yeah, but that’s because he won’t stay still.” Guttural laughter rumbled behind his head before the deep voice rasped into his ear. “I like the way you crawl away from us, boy.”
The man moved, leaving the cold rain to beat down on Ian’s back again as someone grabbed his waist. Ian sobbed and dug his hands into the mud, pulling himself away from the fingers gripping into his hips. He couldn’t figure out where he was; his head felt like someone had filled it with sludge and he wanted to curl up somewhere and rest it. So heavy. It was so heavy. Like his words. They lay like bricks on his tongue. Leave me alone, he wanted to yell, but he couldn’t speak around their bulk and sharp corners.
He didn’t want them touching him.
He needed to hide.
Ian twisted away from the hands and managed to stand. Lightning flashed onto old gravestones. He was in a graveyard. Thick mud sucked his feet to the ground. He staggered, remembering a hiding place inside the building. The schoolhouse that still stood among the rubble of other fallen buildings overgrown with weeds and vines. A ghost town. Jagger had brought him here. Hard fingers grabbed his arm and he swung as he was turned around, his fist merely flying through the air because his eyes weren’t working right.
Laughter came from two separate directions.
“Scrappy little thing, ain’t he?”
The first voice belonged to Hughes and the other to Gratton.
Jagger’s enforcers.
One of them tripped him again and he began to crawl.Chapter 12Something woke Hollis.
At first, he lay still, disoriented and blinking into the dark bedroom. He was tired from not sleeping the night before after Ian had split them into different rooms, and today had been stressful with the knowledge that Snow had been so close to being killed. They’d all agreed it wasn’t safe enough to go into town. Ian had been agitated and unable to sit still until he’d talked to Snow himself on the phone. He’d avoided Hollis most of the day, and Hollis had decided to give Ian the space…until the next day. Whatever had caused Ian to back away from him was something they were going to address.
He’d waited too long to let anything get between them now. And after the night before, after feeling Ian in his arms, he was more determined than ever to make this work.
Ian was independent, in charge of one of the most popular restaurants in Cincinnati, but he needed someone to watch out for him. To care for him. His friends filled a big void in his life, but Hollis wanted to fill it better. He wanted to be the one man Ian came to for help, for comfort…for everything. He wanted the same things for himself from Ian.
A whimper sounded from the kitchen and it hit as true coherence set in, that someone could be in the house. He was scrambling out of the tangled covers as the dogs started barking. He grabbed his gun, opened his door and was met with the sight of Rowe in boxers and holding a gun.
He moved ahead of the redhead and stopped when he got to the edge of the kitchen. Glass covered the entire floor.
Rowe and Noah walked to stand next to him.
“He’s doing it again,” Rowe whispered.
Ian made a tortured sound and crawled across the floor. Streaks of blood showed on the linoleum when he moved his knee.
“Fuck, he’s crawling in that.” Hollis ran forward, not giving a shit about his own lack of shoes. Glass sliced into his feet as he took the needed steps to reach Ian. He set his gun on the counter and picked him up off the floor. Hollis looked up to find Noah standing on the glass, too, like he’d been right beside him ready to pick Ian up. Rowe had picked up a broom, his hand gripping the handle so tightly, white showed on his knuckles.
Ian started struggling and Hollis grimaced as he fought to hold him and not step on more glass. He nearly fell but managed to brace his feet again. The pain in his heel let him know he’d found a bigger sliver. He tightened his arms around Ian.
“No,” Ian yelled. “Please, stop!”
