Targeted By Love (Between the Greys #1)

17. Rhodes

17

RHODES

“Maynard, where are you!” I was standing in a field, unsure how I got there but needing him so badly. It was dusk, and the breeze carried the stench of decay. Where was this place?

“Maynard! Maynard, where are you?” He was close—I could feel him, but I couldn’t see or hear him. Only he wasn’t as close as he was even a second earlier. Maynard was moving away from me.

“No!” I started running, needing to catch up to him. He couldn’t leave, not without me. Was he looking for me? Was that what I sensed? If so, he needed to come back. “I’m right here!”

Running.

Running.

Running.

Nothing was going to stop me from getting to him. Except everything was. Instead of moving forward, it felt like I was on a treadmill, running in place, getting nowhere no matter how fast I went.

“No!” I cried out. “No! I need you! Come back! Come back, please! Where are you?” Tears trickled down my cheeks, and my head began to ache and that ache grew.

Now it was full-on pounding, throbbing so intensely that I pressed my hand to it, half expecting to feel the pain physically from the outside. It hurt so badly I stopped running and crouched down, holding my temples and squeezing my eyes shut. This wasn’t normal. Headaches were one thing, this was an entirely different one.

Was this what an aneurysm felt like—like my head was going to explode from the inside out, like there were tiny creatures inside, hitting me with a hammer, like I was being slammed into a brick wall over and over again?

And how did I get here? That would have the answers, right? Only thinking clearly wasn’t on my side. The pain was too great.

One moment, I’d been in the kitchen, daydreaming about my mate. Now, I was in the middle of nowhere with a headache so intense it felt like someone was hitting me with a wrench into my skull repeatedly.

I tried to call out again, but this time, my voice didn’t come, not even a whisper. I forced myself to look up, only to discover the field was gone.

Blackness surrounded me, and I was tumbling. Tumbling, tumbling, tumbling.

Then came the cold.

So very, very cold.

It was as if someone had dropped me onto an iceberg in summer clothes. My body shook uncontrollably as I waited for the numbness to come—the kind of numbness that only happened when your body could no longer pretend to keep up with the cold.

I heard a fumbling. Like when I was a kid, and we had a deadbolt my mom struggled with when she came home. But it was so far away, maybe at the end of a tunnel. Wait. That didn’t make sense. But then again, none of this did.

Maybe it wasn’t real. Maybe the television was on and I was somehow incorporating the show into my subconscious—a nap gone wrong.

Static filled my ears, only solidifying this theory. Yes. TV. That’s what it was. I was safe and none of this was happening.

Had I fallen asleep? Had Maynard’s brother turned on a movie to kill time? That was the only thing that made any sense. But if so, I needed to wake up fully because whatever this dream was, I couldn’t take it anymore. I was put-a-fork-in-me done.

I closed my eyes and tried to move my body, but it felt heavy. So, so heavy. I hadn’t even managed to curl a finger.

And the cold—it was seeping into me as the static grew louder and louder until it was all I could hear.

Finally, I managed to crack my eyes open—just barely. It was dim, my brain told me that, but my eyes felt like it was too bright, and I slammed them shut again.

Where was I?

The floor beneath me was concrete and the source of the cold I was feeling. That much was for sure. No wonder I’d been dreaming of icebergs.

I opened my eyes again, blinking a few times, trying to focus. But it was too dark to see much beyond myself.

And just like in my dream, my head throbbed.

In front of me, on the floor, sat a glass of water.

No way I was touching that, despite the deep thirst I felt.

I tried to replay the last things I remembered in my head.

I was with Maynard’s brother and we were going to play Old Maid… then he was going to take a call, and I went to make sandwiches … and then my arm hurt. I had no confidence that anything past that was real.

They must have given me something, a drug of some sort. Yeah. That had to be it. The pinch in my arm had been a needle, and whatever was in it had me missing a whole chunk of time and feeling like I had a hangover to top all hangovers.

But who were they, and why did they have me here? If it was the people who wanted me dead, I would be dead and not on this freezing floor, right? Who knew how long I’d been out, but during that time, it would’ve been easy peasy to stick a bullet in my brain. No. This person, or these people, wanted me alive.

Or had they left me for dead? Maybe they wanted me to suffer and all they left for me was a glass of water, one that could easily be poisoned. I officially needed to lay off the late-night movies.

“I hear you breathing. No need to pretend.”

I didn’t recognize the voice, but they were in the room with me. If only I had the strength to get up and fight for my life. But I didn’t. Not even close.

“I wasn’t sure I was alive.” And the verdict was still out on that one.

“Drink,” came the voice from the shadows. “Not supposed to kill you yet. You need hydration.”

How comforting to hear they didn’t want me dead… yet.

“I will not ask you again.”

It took all my energy, but I managed to sit up, pressing my back against the wall. I couldn’t see much past where I was sitting. The lights were too dim.

“What’s in the water?” If I was going to black out again, I wanted to know ahead of time so I could be prepared.

“Dust. Maybe a gnat. Fuck if I know.”

“That’s reassuring.” I was mumbling more to myself than him. I shouldn’t have said it at all.

“It’s from the tap. Just drink it,” he barked. “Your body’s going into shock. I can hear your teeth chattering from here.”

If they wanted to knock me out again, they could have just put something in my arm again before I woke up. At least that was my logic. If I was going to drink this, I needed a pep talk. The reality was, they were going to get their way no matter what I did or didn’t do. My goal was to have them win in the way that did me less harm while I figured out a plan.

My mouth was dry, like it was full of cotton balls. It was drink it or suffer, with a real possibility that it might be both.

“Where am I?”

“Drink.”

I took a sip. It was tepid, stale, but I needed it. I took another slow drink, my stomach recoiling at the invasion.

“What happened?” I needed some information. Any, really. But not knowing what was happening meant I’d be stuck here. The details might help me come up with a way to escape. Probably. Maybe. Gods, I hoped so.

“You know where you are.”

“Was I stolen?” And yes, I was hoping my choice of words might soften his heart a little bit.

“‘Stolen’ is such an ugly word,” the voice said. “Drink it all. My orders are to take the cup when you’re done and leave you.”

“You have the wrong person.” It made no sense that I’d been the target of anything.

“We don’t. Your brother is a pain in our ass and you are collateral.”

Collateral for what? Imagine thinking I was collateral for anything Seb related. What a fucking joke. Seb would probably ask to watch as they killed me.

I didn’t dare say that, though. If they thought I could help them achieve something they wanted, then let them. It would give me time to try and figure a way out of this mess. And I would figure a way out. Falling in love and then rotting as a prisoner was very much not in my plans.

Instead, I stared at the glass, pretending like I hadn’t processed what he’d said. It wouldn’t have been unreasonable, as holding a thought was taking most of my energy. The water was looking good, but also… I trusted them not at all.

“Drink it, or I’m taking it. Those are your choices.”

So much for getting any answers.

I drank another long sip until my stomach threatened to revolt, then set the glass down.

“If I drink any more, I’ll be sick.”

“And if you’re sick, I’m making you clean it up…”

The shadow-covered figure grabbed the glass and left, flicking the lights off on the way out and leaving me alone in the dark.

The smell of dampness filled the air.

What little light there had been was extinguished. Now I couldn’t even see my fingers.

“Fuck.” I had been kidnapped.

This time, for real.

Whoever this guy was, for certain he wasn’t working alone. Seb wouldn’t hand himself over to them, so if I stayed alive long enough, someone would search for me.

That someone was Maynard.

Please don’t let him come find me.

It was bad enough they had one of us. I refused to let them get another.

I tried to stand but couldn’t, so I leaned my head back against the wall and closed my eyes. I needed to conserve my strength.

Because when the light finally came, I needed to figure out a way out of here.

And make no mistake about it—I was getting out and back to my mate. I didn’t wait this long to find him again only to lose him right away. Eff that noise.

Voices echoed on the other side of the door. Looked like I was getting company.