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Somehow, Caleb retreated inward, away from the relentless assault, the same way he did when he was in a scene. His mind separated from his body, and though he felt the pain, it didn’t touch him on the inside.
Instead, he conjured up images of Roman, each memory a balm against the brutality of the torture. The two of them in bed, cuddling. Roman’s soft flesh against Caleb’s skin. The impact of Roman’s hand on his ass. The lust in Roman’s eyes when Caleb kneeled for him. The warmth of Roman’s hand on his back, steady and sure, grounding him when the rest of the world seemed intent on tearing him apart.
Would he see Roman again? Or was this the end for him?
Fear was a living thing, a serpent coiling tight around Caleb’s heart. It whispered of unspeakable consequences, of never kneeling for Roman again, never feeling the reassuring pressure of his grip. Yet as Joey delivered another punishing hit, one that sent sparks dancing across Caleb’s vision, the fear was kept at bay by the fortress of Caleb’s will.
Roman’s eyes swam in his mind—those brown depths that held storms and secrets alike. The image of him, so vivid it hurt, was a lifeline thrown into the roiling sea of Caleb’s despair. Somewhere beyond these walls, Roman was fighting for him, and that knowledge lent Caleb a strength he didn’t know he possessed. Caleb’s body bore the brunt of Joey’s rage, but within him, something unbreakable took root and flourished. With Roman etched into his very soul, no amount of pain could truly conquer him.
Joey’s hand clamped down hard, fingers biting into Caleb’s jaw, forcing him to meet his gaze and return to the present. The room was a blur through Caleb’s tears and sweat, and he’d taken a few hits to his face as well, but Joey’s eyes pierced through the haze with predatory precision.
“If you think this is bad, you ain’t seen nothing yet,” Joey said.
All Caleb could do was blink. Even if he’d wanted to, he wouldn’t have been able to form words. Everything hurt, everything swam, everything was blurry. He could barely think, let alone speak.
“Stubborn little…” Joey muttered, releasing Caleb’s face with a shove so his head knocked back against the wall.
Pain splintered through Caleb, another jolt in the relentless tide, and then everything went black, and he was sucked into blissful oblivion.
27
Frantic didn’t even come close to describing Roman’s state of mind. All he could think of was Caleb. Even as Wander and the others were brainstorming possible solutions, his brain remained focused on Caleb. Was he still alive? The thought that he might not be was unbearable. Just when Roman had found love, would fate cruelly rip it out of his fingers?
“Roman?” Wander asked.
Roman raised his head, surprised to feel wetness on his cheeks. He hadn’t even realized he was crying. His movements were slow as he wiped the tears away, as if he was moving through a fog. “What is it?”
“We need you to focus, Ro,” Wander said gently. “Caleb needs you to pull it together. I know you’re worried sick. We all are. But we have to push past that and concentrate our efforts on finding him.”
Roman blinked and sucked in a deep breath. Wander was right. Crying didn’t help anyone, least of all Caleb. “Okay.”
“Have you heard what we discussed?”
“Sorry, no.”
A warm hand landed on his shoulder. “No worries. Our working theory is that somehow, Joey DiMartino figured out who Caleb is and took him. So we need to find Joey. If we find him, we’ll most likely find Caleb.”
“Right. So how do we find Joey?” His brain slowly started up again, like an old computer. “Have we tried tracking his car? The one on the security cam footage outside my apartment?”
“We don’t have that ability, Ro. Not without involving law enforcement.”
Of course. “I can make some calls.”
“We fear that would put Caleb in danger. If Joey gets wind of the cops being involved, he may take drastic measures.”
Drastic measures. That was code for killing Caleb. Oh god, Roman couldn’t let himself go there. “Okay, so let’s not do that. What options do we have?”
“Alex and I are heading back to Boston to see what we can shake loose from the people we already talked to,” Ryan said. “Maybe one of them knows something they haven’t shared yet.”
They needed someone with contacts in the city, someone linked to the mob. “What about Connor?” Roman asked his brother. “Can we reach out to him and ask him if he still has connections?”
Wander nodded as he whipped out his phone and made the call. “Connor, you’re on speaker with the team,” he said as soon as Connor picked up, thankfully not wasting any time. “We have an emergency.”
“What happened?” Connor asked.
“Caleb was investigating our case in Boston, and he’s gone missing. We suspect Joey DiMartino has him.”
“Fuck.”
