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“Hey, Anna.” She spun to face him. “It’s not for shits and giggles. They’re the only thing that let me think straight.” He rolled a shoulder, obviously uncomfortable. Either for admitting his struggle, or for the fact that she knew he was taking something to deal.
“I don’t care what you do, so long as you’re functional.” Though… Hayden definitely would. She’d deal with that once she had him back, though.
Sawyer just nodded, turning his back to her again, though he didn’t move forward.
She headed back to camp, forcing her mind to stay on reuniting with Hayden instead of focusing on where he might be in that moment. She couldn’t think of that now… could only think of being back in his arms, back at his side. Once she found herself there, she’d never leave it again.
? ♥ ?
Hayden’s eyes cracked open, the only source of light coming from five candles in the room, the flames gently flicking back and forth, creating a small cracking noise. He looked around to see a bed tucked into the corner, a toilet and wash basin, and two windows, though, again, they were barred.
He was in a different room.
He was also in a chair, no longer seated on a cold cement floor with a leaky ceiling. Interesting.
Hayden tested the knots at his back, but they were even tighter than before. His right shoulder screamed at the movement. Dislocated? It was possible. All he knew was that it ached. That didn’t matter though, he’d be able to get out of the ropes all the same.
His head still pounded, a burning sensation coming from his forehead where he’d been bleeding. It seemed like the bleeding stopped, though, again, he couldn’t be sure. There was no mirror, no way to inspect himself more thoroughly.
He was alive. Conscious. Had his wits about him.
That was all he needed. That, and a weapon.
His eyes scanned the room, looking for anything he could use once he got himself free of the ropes. Or, hell, to get himself free of the ropes. Before he could find anything, the door swung open, a large form stepping inside.
“Hello, son,” the low voice murmured.
Hayden bit back the snarl that rose in his throat, his guttural response to the man before him. “Father,” he said calmly, instead, intent on maintaining the mask he’d worn for the past decade and a half since he’d last seen him.
He stepped closer, dark eyes moving over Hayden, inspecting him. “I’ve waited a long time for this moment.”
Yeah, so have I. “Is that so?”
“Mm.” He continued looking him over, his eyes never meeting Hayden’s.
He just needed to bide his time. Wait until he was alone again. Find a weapon. Get the hell out of there.
“I have big plans for you.”
Hayden grunted. “Finally going to kill me, then?” The words were out of his mouth before he’d had time to bite them back.
His father laughed. “Kill you? No. That was never my plan.” He kneeled down, finally meeting Hayden’s gaze. “My intentions were simply to break you, and I’m just getting started on that front.”
With that, he stood and spun on his heel. Exiting the room.
Hayden rolled his eyes, then went to work on loosening his ropes. There were several knots to work out, but he had time.
Joseph Greene lost a teenager, a child. Hayden was not a child any longer. It benefited him greatly that his father seemed to miss that fact.
He worked on the knots with everything he had, his shoulder giving him more fuss than he’d originally expected, while his eyes scanned the room for a weapon to grab once he managed to get free.
Chapter Twelve
THEY DIDN’T HAVE NEARLY as many weapons as they should have, but it would have to do. Anna had a single handgun strapped to her waist. Sawyer, Ben, and Jaxon had one each, but William went without, only taking three knives and a weighted baton.
There were a handful of guns with the others, but Sawyer insisted they not try to take them. According to him, leaving them with Mason and his people would put some power back in their hands, and would be a show of faith that they’d show up.
Anna didn’t have much faith in that, but Sawyer’s hadn’t yet waivered.
