Can’t wait.If Stevie Carlyle comes back down to this fucking basement, he’s going to kill me.
Yeah.Yeah.Gideon knew enough about decompensating killers, didn’t he.He’d seen it in Chester Schumer.He’d seen it in Morton Donald Johns.If Joey’s father made it back down to the basement, Gideon had better belonggone.
Fortunately, Gideon knew a little something about restraints too.
Like, zip ties weren’t always reliable.There were thegoodones, the thick nylon ones used by the feds.Those were pretty strong.And then there were the smaller ones, the brittle ones, the zip ties that were originally used for something else—tying bundles, whatever—before somebody thought bigger ones would make easier restraints than rope.
Those could be shattered with enough quick force or some wearing-down at the edges.
As Gideon listened to Stevie clatter up the stairs, he gently tested his bonds—and the extent of his injuries.
Oh!Hey, right wrist was broken.That wasbad.It was swelling pretty badly too.Yeah, no, that wasn’t going to work.But Gideon was ambidextrous, and his left wrist was still rockin’!
And this chair—what the fuck was this chair he was sitting on?Metal folding?No such luck.But itwasa wooden kitchen chair.Something old that had once been sort of delicate, with lots of decorative lathing.
Oh, this thing would shatter in aheartbeat.
With an effort, he widened his swollen eyes, trying to decide what lay on either side of him.
The floor was packed earth—no concrete in sight.Okay, okay—he could work with that.He was currently sitting in a pool of unfiltered light, mob-land style, from a bulb swinging from the ceiling.
As far as he could tell, the floor was untreated, with some underlying moisture but a dry topsoil, so no little electric booby traps.Excellent.Now, which side?
Well, if he landed on his right side, his wrist would break evenmore, and he’d probably pass out.
But Stevie had mostly led with his right when beating Gideon about the head, and the left side of his face was pretty swollen.He probably had a concussion from that.That was the side where his ribs were feeling crunchy and, well, dangerous.
So if he landed on hisleftside, hisheadwould break even more, and he’d probably pass outforever.
Okay, then.
It was a plan.Probably not a great one, but Gideon could work with it.He couldn’t take a deep breath—his ribs were too crunchy.But he could take abreath,and he could harden his core, and he could brace himself.
Ass firmly in seat, he began to dance.
And his chair began to wobble.
And then it began to rock.
And Gideon got ready for everything in his body to explode.
BACK DURINGthe Sons of the Blood thing, Joey and Gideon had taken a precious three days off—with Clint’s blessing—and ridden not one buttwoelectric motorcycles from Manhattan to Boston.
Gideon could ride like a fuckingchampion, Joey discovered, although they’d both discovered that riding a motorcycle all day wasn’t as great for the sex drive as all the advertisements claimed.
Still, they’d enjoyed the ride, had eaten some great chowder as they passed through Boston, and had been a little sorry to see the outskirts of Joey’s father’s influence come into view in the form of the storage center where Joey kept their stuff.
There was a car rental place about a mile away—Gideon had rented a car to Logan airport there while Joey had driven first one bike then the other to his storage space.
Once again, he had to leave his clothes collection, but this time, since he only had to walk a mile to the car rental place, he managed to smuggle his old leather jacket out.
Only to realize that he didn’t really love it like he used to.He loved the one he’d bought in Manhattan more.
They’d given it to a homeless woman in Boston and had been in their apartment in time to take a shower, have a glass of wine, and have some rocking sex to celebrate that they were no longer on the back of motorcycles.
And most importantly, Joey hadtwomotorcycles somewhere his father still hadn’t thought to look, somewhere that could get him into the reservation unseen and to the back entrance onto the property.
Where the young mountain lion was proudly terrorizing rabbits and deer and probably pissing pheromones to all the female mountain lions in the area.
