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Leaving me alone with the throbbing in my skull and the sound of Declan outside, shouting at his men to keep digging.
* * *
I don’t know if I fall asleep or pass out.
Everything gets dark, and nothing becomes clear again until Declan’s voice wakes me up.
It’s like the sound of him talking incites this instant, subconscious fury that slaps me awake as sharp as a punch.
I tense, slitting one eye open, taking in my surroundings.
I’m upright again. No memory of anyone picking up the chair I’m tied to. I must’ve really been unconscious.
It’s darker outside, just a sliver of moonlight through the window.
I can’t hear more digging noises or shouting, but I don’t get the feeling that people are asleep.
Nah.
It’s too tense here.
Declan’s shadow hovers, pacing back and forth outside on the porch, his voice drifting inward.
“Don’t fucking play me, Silverton.”
Holt.
He’s talking to Holt.
My heart leaps. I strain to listen.
“We had a deal. Midnight.” He pauses.
“Why are you in such a rush?”
Another pause.
He passes in front of the door again and leans in to look at me. I slam my eyes shut and let my head hang before he’s fully in.
“Of course she’s alive! Asleep.” He stays silent, then sighs. “Will it get this over with faster? Fine.”
His heavy footsteps make the floor creak as he comes inside.
Those thick, horrible fingers dig into my chin, jerking my face up.
“Wake up!” he grunts, but my eyes are already snapping open.
I glare at him mutely, grinding my teeth.
He smirks.
“I’m going to be nice,” he says. “Talk to your boyfriend.”
He shoves the phone against my ear, still holding my jaw so tight it feels like it’s gonna snap right off.
Part of me wants to stay quiet just to spite him. But when I hear Holt on the other end, drawling in that dry way of his, I can’t resist.
“Libby,” he says—calm as can be, as if he’s got everything under control.
I hope like hell he does.
“Hey,” I say, trying to keep my voice calm, too.
I don’t want him to worry. I want him to know it’s okay, and I’ve got his back.
“Where the hell you been?” I whisper.
“Taking care of business,” he answers. “I’m on my way, honey. Coming for you right now.”
“You’re slow,” I retort and swallow back the knot forming in my throat. I won’t cry in front of Declan. I will not. “Get your butt up here. Turns out Sierra’s boyfriend is really crappy company.”
Holt chuckles. “Yeah? Doesn’t surprise m—”
I don’t get to hear any more. Declan rips the phone away with a disgusted sound.
I almost lean after it.
Almost.
But instead I let my pride yank me back and focus on feeling at my ropes, still searching for the right spot.
Declan lifts the phone to his ear.
“One hour,” he bites off. “No more delays. Don’t make any other ‘adjustments,’ or I’ll know you’re bluffing, and I will kill her, Silverton.”
I don’t hear what Holt says back but it must be enough to satisfy Declan.
He ends the call with a swipe of his thumb, then turns his head slowly, looking down at me with narrowed eyes.
“Well,” he says. “Since your darling man’s being so accommodating…what do I really need you for?”
It doesn’t quite click what he means.
His fist snaps out so fast I don’t even see it coming.
He hits like he means it.
There’s a crash.
My vision goes white, then black.
Pain storms through me like a red-hot whiplash.
And then I’m gone.
* * *
I’m surprised to wake up again.
I can’t breathe.
There’s something stuffed in my mouth, something foul and thick that makes my tongue feel like cotton.
I come to slowly, wheezing as I’m tossed around in seasick lurches, my vision fragmenting all over the place.
Oh, God.
I’m gonna barf.
No—no, if I do, I’m just gonna choke myself.
I swallow it back, forcing my eyes to focus, biting off curses around the rag and squirming.
Yep, still tied to the chair.
And as my eyes clear, I realize…I’m staring right at Declan Eckhard’s ass.
He’s got me tossed over his shoulder, chair and all, and he’s carrying me outside.
Ugh.
“Finally awake?” he asks just a little too mildly. He’s got a hand clamped down on my thigh, and he digs his fingers in hard enough to make me squirm. “Good. You’re lucky I let you live, but you see…I think you’re still not telling the whole truth. You or Holt. You’re going to tell me what we’re missing here, and you’re going to tell me before he gets here.”
Everything somersaults in my vision so fast it’s a miracle I don’t pass out again.
He steps down into the churned-up graveyard and swings me down on the chair so hard my head whacks the tall back of it.
Jesus, if I get brain damage, I’m sending this prick my hospital bill.
He lords over me, his hands on the back of the chair.
“Your army of the dead isn’t coming to save you, baby,” he says. “Look at them. No ghosts. And you’ll be joining them soon, if you don’t start talking. What the fuck’s here that’s so valuable? What did that man in the saloon die for?”
