Page 44 of Hit And Bothered


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“I miss you too. Get naked and have the champagne ready,” Blake ordered and hung up.

Blake didn’t stop smiling all the way home. He didn’t know what had gotten into Speed but Blake was looking forward to popping a cork and celebrating.

“I might owe him… He’s been pretty forgiving and Kat has been relentless since Speed proposed.” Blake was whistling as he parked in the garage. He wasn’t going to risk dropping the box or the lid getting blown off and the contents scattering all over the lawn. Blake backed through the kitchen door so he could cut through and leave the box in the dining room. He used his shoulder to push the other door open and found the muzzle of a pistol in his face. There was a hard clicking as the hammer was cocked and Blake’s whole life flashed before his eyes.

He was just a little taller than the blades of grass as he ran through the back pasture and Blake saw his brothers and his sisters splashing in the pond. There were flashes of him winning the spelling bee in the sixth grade and dancing with Shannon Simmons at the junior prom. He saw himself shaking the principal’s hand when he graduated from high school and his parents cheering their hearts out when he walked across the stage at OU. Then, Blake saw Speed smiling at him over a glass of bourbon as they flirted in the West Penthouse at the Joule Hotel. Speed was naked and breathtaking as he drove into Blake’s body and captured his lips for a deep, drugging kiss. All those perfect moments rushed at Blake in the excruciating distance between one loud crash of his heart and the next. It thudded in his chest like a bass drum as everything slowed around him.

“Welcome home,” a hard voice growled as thin, wide lips pulled into a snarling smile. Blake recognized the tall, thin, red-haired man from Speed’s photos and stifled a shudder.

“Frank Leary, right?” He asked weakly and the other man’s smile grew even wider. He grunted in amusement as he waved the end of the gun at the table.

“You can set that over there.” He ordered and kept the gun trained on Blake. “I figured you’d be smart. Speed could never stand people who didn’t think.”

“How do you know I’m smart?” Blake asked as he set the box down and turned slowly.

“I want you to put your number on this phone. And don’t try anything tricky, since you’re so smart. I’m going to test that number before we leave,” he warned as he handed Blake a phone. “He told you I go nuts when people call me Francis, didn’t he?” Blake nodded. Francis chuckled as he watched Blake enter his number. “I was kind of hoping you were dumb enough to do it so I could spray Speed’s beautiful wallpaper with your brains,” he said, gesturing around them with the gun.

“Here,” Blake said as he handed him the phone. Francis tapped on the number and smiled when Blake’s phone vibrated on the table and rang.

“Good boy. You might live to see Speed again.” He grabbed Blake by the arm and pushed him at the kitchen door.

“Where are we going?” Blake asked, his voice cracking as his fear escalated.

“Not too far but you let me worry about that. You need to focus on doing exactly as I say because I’m going to blow your head off if any of your neighbors try to stop us from leaving,” Francis told him and pointed the gun at the garage door so Blake would open it. “Give me the keys,” Francis said and held out his hand. Once he had them he led Blake to the driver’s side and made him get in, then Francis ran around the front of the car. He ducked into the passenger seat and gave the keys back to Blake. “Now, open the garage and slowly back out and make sure you don’t call any attention to us,” he said as he reclined the seat until it was all the way back. Blake watched as the garage door rose and prayed no one was on their lawns or in their driveways as he backed out. Everything was clear and Blake didn’t see anyone as he reversed, then drove to the stop sign at the end of their street. His nerves exploded as he checked the rearview mirror and Blake wondered if he’d ever see Speed, Lane, or their weird little neighborhood ever again. He thought of his parents and Blake started to cry.

“What are you going to do with me?”

“I’m going to use you as bait,” Francis informed him. “Turn right and head down the highway a little.”

“That sounds promising,” Blake muttered as he pulled away from the sign and turned, earning another dry chuckle from Francis.

“I bet he has a lot of fun with you.”

Blake nodded, then snorted as his bitterness overwhelmed his self-preservation. “He does. He’s really happy and he wants to have a family. You should have wanted all of this for him but you never loved Speed the way he loved you. The only thing you’ve ever cared about was that monster.”

“Too bad no one asked you,” Francis said. He sat up and pointed at the windshield. “Turn off the next time you can.”

“No road in particular,” Blake noted, not liking that Francis didn’t seem to care.

“Nope. Won’t be there for long.”

“Great.”

It wasn’t great, though. Blake turned onto a dirt road and Francis ordered him to stop. His hands were shaking as Blake parked and his nerve buckled again. He thought about begging but he didn’t want to give Francis the pleasure.

“I’m going to get out and come around so I can open your door. But I’m going to keep my eye on you and I’ll shoot you if you try anything,” Francis warned. “Do you understand?” He raised his brows and Blake nodded. “Good boy. Gimme the keys.” Francis held out his palm and Blake’s heart sank as he pulled them out of the ignition. He was so ready to run Francis over once he was in front of the car.

“I wasn’t going to try anything,” he muttered, making Francis cackle.

“You’re lying but I had a feeling you’d have balls. Speed wouldn’t give a fuck about you if you were a doormat. You keep being smart and do what I tell you and you might not die,” he said nicely before he got out. He kept the pistol aimed at Blake as he hurried around the front of the car. Francis opened the door and yanked Blake out and pushed him around the back of the Corvette. For a moment, Blake was afraid Francis would throw him at the dirt and shoot him in the back of the head. But Francis pushed Blake against the side of the car. “Hold out your hands.”

Blake pushed them at Francis and almost whooped with joy when the bracelet of a handcuff was locked around his wrist. It dangled for a moment as Francis worked with one hand and kept the gun on Blake. He was surprisingly gentle as he helped Blake into the passenger seat and slammed the door shut. They were off a moment later with Francis in the driver’s seat and Blake’s stomach twisted as they drove right past the spot where Lane and Aiden almost died in the same Corvette. For a moment, Blake wondered if the Corvette was cursed or if the car gods had sent it to torment the Wests. Then, Francis turned off the highway toward an abandoned private airport. The car raced toward the row of dilapidated hangars and Blake bit down on his lips as his chest started to shake with laughter.

“What’s so funny?” Francis demanded.

“I’ve heard stories about this old airport and I do believe it might be haunted,” he replied, causing him to laugh in earnest. His brother and Lavender had a history with this place, from what Lane had told Blake so he decided that luck might actually be on his side.

Blake’s mood took a tumble when Francis steered them into the second to the last hangar. It was the sturdiest-looking but that wasn’t saying a lot. One of the sides had crumpled like the side of a tin can that had been stepped on and sections of the roof had collapsed. Francis swerved around piles of debris and parked in a shady spot at the other side of the hangar next to several oil drums. The doors were open and Blake could see the runway. A small plane waited but it was the collection of items stacked on an oil drum that turned Blake’s blood to ice. Two large green bricks were duct taped together and Blake could see wires and something that looked like a calculator on top of the bundle.

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