Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
W hy did he feel like crap?
Saint groaned, his stomach rolling. Ugh, his head was fuzzy, and he felt like he wanted to throw up. He knew this feeling and hated it. Breathing in deeply through his nose and releasing it through his mouth a few times helped ease some of the nausea. He tried to move his arms but couldn’t.
“What the…?” Damn. His arms were behind him and tied with some kind of…was it wax? It was some kind of wax thread. He tested its strength and frowned. Not impossible. Where the hell was he?
Everything came flooding back. Adrian. He and his friend had shot Saint with a damned tranq gun.
They must have dragged him in here and tied him up.
Wait, was he sitting in an office chair?
Yep, he was. The brakes were on, but the thing had wheels.
Not Adrian’s smartest move, but then all the other chairs in the place were armless office chairs, so not much of a choice.
Something told him Adrian hadn’t thought this far ahead.
Saint discreetly took in his surroundings.
It was dark, but there was enough moonlight coming in through the windows that he could see pretty clearly.
Wherever they were, it was pretty spacious, with sewing machines and several long wooden tables containing giant rolls of fabric underneath.
There were rolls of fabric and materials everywhere.
Two of the walls were lined with metal racks containing more rolls of fabric, and multiple stacks of chairs and cushions.
Pieces of furniture were also strewn about the place, along with stuffing, measuring tapes, and bottles of chemicals.
Tabletops were covered with all kinds of tools, from hammers and staple guns to scissors and pliers.
Upholstery. It was some kind of furniture upholstery factory.
At the far end of the room, Saint spotted Adrian and Pete.
They were arguing quietly. It was obvious Pete was still trying to get through to Adrian, and Adrian just didn’t give a fuck.
Poor Pete. The guy was stuck between a rock and a hard place.
Adrian had Pete’s family somewhere. Had he kidnapped them?
Or did he have someone working for him? Maybe Saint could get some information from Pete somehow.
“I told you to shut up,” Adrian snarled loudly. “If you try anything stupid, I swear Brianna and Theo are next.”
“Listen to yourself! You know them, have known them for years. Our kids used to play together! How can you do this?”
“One more word about it, Pete, and I’m calling my associate. Do you want that? You want him to put a bullet in your wife’s head?”
“No,” Pete replied through his teeth.
“Good. Then do as you’re told. Now, come on.”
Saint closed his eyes and hung his head as their footsteps grew closer.
He had to figure a way out of this or at least buy himself some time.
His thoughts went to Val. By now, Val was probably worried as hell.
Knowing him and the guys, they had to know about Saint’s apartment, which meant Val, and maybe some of the Kings were nearby, so yeah, he just needed to buy himself some time.
He had faith in the man he loved and their friends.
If he could get his hands on any of the tools on that table, he’d be set.
“Now what? What are you going to do with him?” Pete asked.
“I’m going to use him to get Serrano.”
“And how are you going to do that? Call him up and say, ‘Hey, I have your boyfriend. Walk through the door so I can shoot you.’”
“I don’t need any of your lip.”
Someone kicked Saint’s boot.
“I know you’re awake.”
Saint opened his eyes, lifting his gaze without raising his head. Pete took a quick step back, but Adrian just scoffed.
“What are you gonna do, tough guy? You’re tied to a chair.” He waved the gun. “And I’m the only one here with a gun.”
Not for long. “Your pal, Pete, has a point. Do you really think Val’s just gonna walk through that door? Whatever he did, it can’t be worth killing for.”
The indignant fury in Adrian’s gaze said he disagreed. “He set all of this in motion. If he’d just gone along with it, everything would have turned out great. For me, at least. He’d be in jail where he belongs.”
“Gone along with what?” Saint asked, looking from Adrian to Pete and back. “Am I supposed to know what you’re talking about?”
Adrian’s laugh sounded a bit unhinged. “Of course not. He didn’t tell you, did he?
That’s because he’s a liar and fraud, and no one had the balls to do anything about it.
My plan was perfect. The guys were all out on call, leaving me, Pete, and Serrano.
I knew exactly what I had to do, so I cornered him in the locker room.
He was supposed to take the bait so Pete could get it all on video.
I’d accuse Serrano of sexual harassment, he’d be disgraced and go to jail. No more gay fire chief.”
Saint stared at him. What the…? Was this guy for real?
“Hold on. I want to make sure I’ve got this right.
Val comes out as gay, and you’re so enraged by this that you decide you’re going to set a trap.
You come on to Val, thinking—because he’s gay—he’ll obviously try to have sex with you right then and there.
You have your pal hide, recording everything.
Things don’t go your way, and Val doesn’t fall for it, making your video evidence useless. Am I getting this right?”
“Which meant I had to improvise. He wasn’t going to get away with it, so I called the police and told them I wanted to press charges, that I was assaulted.
It was his word against mine. I gave him a chance to step down, and he refused.
So, I moved forward with the charges. No matter what happened in court, he’d have to step down.
The city wasn’t going to allow a fire chief who’d been accused of sexual assault to stay. ”
“So you accuse him, it goes to trial because Val didn’t do it, and he’s a fighter. Obviously, things didn’t work out quite the way you wanted because you got fired instead.”
“Because this spineless son of a bitch,” Adrian growled, waving his gun at Pete, “grew a fucking conscience, testifies in court that it was all a ploy set up by me, and presents the video he recorded.”
“Which is evidence that it was all a setup. The charges are dropped, an apology is issued to Val, and the city sweeps everything under the rug because, yikes, who wants to be on the news for setting up a gay fire chief and trying to send him to prison for a crime he didn’t commit?
Talk about bad publicity. So, naturally, you’re fired.
I think that sums it up, right?” Saint had heard of people doing some outrageous things, but wow.
His heart hurt for Val and all the bullshit he’d been forced to put up with at the time.
“That was just the beginning.”
Oh, yay, there was more. Saint let his head fall back.
“Ugh, just kill me now.” He dropped his head forward.
“Look, whatever happened, you obviously need help. You can’t go around killing people because you fucked up your life.
Own up to it, man. You planted a bomb because you didn’t get your way. Who does that?”
“Don’t you belittle my pain! It’s more than that.
Serrano’s the reason I lost everything! After that mess in court, I got fired.
Rumors spread among the men I’d worked side by side with, brothers.
” He glared at Pete accusingly. “They joked that I was probably gay too and that I was just pissed that Serrano turned me down.”
“And…were they right?” Saint asked, curious.
“Fuck you! Those rumors got back to my wife. Our marriage was already struggling. She was just looking for an excuse to leave me, and she did. She took my kids.”
“I’m sorry, man, but you can’t blame Val for your marriage falling apart.” Considering what he’d been willing to do to get Val fired, including risking his career, Saint wasn’t surprised the guy’s marriage hadn’t made it.
“No, but I can blame him for their deaths,” Adrian spat, eyes glassy and filled with rage.
“What?” Saint gaped at him and then looked at Pete, who nodded, his gaze dropping to his shoes.
“They were killed on the way to my mother-in-law’s house. Truck driver fell asleep at the wheel.”
“I’m sorry.” And Saint meant it. No matter what Adrian had done, his family didn’t deserve what had happened to them. “I really am sorry. But you can’t blame Val for that.”
“The fuck I can’t.”
Saint let out a heavy sigh. Nothing was going to change Adrian’s mind. He’d been through a huge loss, and it was easier to blame a man he hated than himself. “Why now? That was years ago.”
“Last month was the anniversary of the night my family died. Every year, I come down to visit their graves. I was in my shitty little motel room ready to drink myself into oblivion like I always do when the news comes on. They were going on and on about the big send-off they were going to give the fire chief after all his years of brave service. I lose everything, and that son of bitch gets to fucking retire with a pension and a fancy party to celebrate?” Adrian started to pace nervously.
“Then I find out he’s going to open a local tavern, has a boyfriend, and a whole goddamn family of friends.
” He shook his head. “No. No fucking way. He doesn’t get to have it all while I have nothing ! ”
“Adrian,” Saint pleaded gently. “You have to stop this. Innocent people are getting hurt.”
“I’ll stop when he’s dead.” Adrian continued to pace, moving farther away from Saint. He grew more agitated by the minute.
Saint glanced over at Pete, who was watching him closely, fear in his eyes. He checked to make sure Adrian wasn’t looking their way, and he quickly nodded to the table. Do the right thing, Pete. All Saint needed was just one of those tools on there, any one of them.