Chapter 10
RAFE
Twenty-four hours had passed since Zach left with the key. In my waking hours, I’d done little else but pace the dinky room, fighting to keep it together. Horror tainted each breath. Frustration at my forced inactivity weighed down my feet.
This cell reeked of desolation.
For the tenth time in the last hour or so, I eyed the door, imagining the narrow hall behind it. Imagining it empty. It fucking sounded unoccupied. My son was alone, just down the hallway, waiting for someone to rescue him from this hell.
As his father, that someone should be me.
I pounded my fist against my palm in furious succession, and those harsh smacks tore through the silence, matching time to the pad of bare feet.
Impatient feet.
I wanted to do something, needed to do something.
Pulse throbbing at my temples, I closed my eyes, thoughts returning to Zach and the key he’d stolen from me. The waves of what-ifs crashed over me. What if Alex couldn’t withstand what Zach wanted from her? What if he broke her beyond repair?
What if he took her to a place buried so deep that no amount of searching the globe would help me find her?
I might never see her again, and that thought alone had me breathing hard in the corner, one hand bracing my shaking body against the wall.
Urgency flooded my system, and I gulped in breath after laborious breath in mounting panic.
But when I opened my eyes, the worn wall in front of me crystallized, snapping me back to the ground.
Going into a fucking panic attack wouldn’t solve shit.
Only one thing stood in the way, and that was two inches of wood and the balls to take a risk.
As I studied the door, noting the height of the lock panel, I peeled my ears for sounds of life outside the chaos in my head.
The apparent vacancy of this place settled around me in disquiet temptation, tainting the air with the kind of dangerous hope that would make any desperate plan seem infallible.
Before I could overthink it, I sent a swift kick to the door.
That first strike merely strained the wood.
The second got me a satisfying dent. The third broke through the final barrier, allowing me entrance into the hall.
Now that I’d broken through, I froze, questioning everything, especially the probable stupidity of this plan and how it was destined to fail.
Getting to my son would be the easy part—it was getting him out undetected that worried me most because I had no clue what kind of security Shelton had in this place.
Did he have cameras installed? Men posted outside?
Fuck.
There was no going back now. I looked left then right, squinting in the dim light and searching for Shelton or his goons, but the hallway was as empty as I’d suspected. With light steps, I hurried in the direction of my son’s room.
Of his fucking prison cell.
But I didn’t want to scare the shit out of him by breaking down the door. Rapping my knuckles in three gentle strikes, I called out his name in a muted tone. The ensuing seconds of silence grated on my nerves, energizing my foot into a constant tap against the ground.
And then I heard it.
Three responsive knocks, small fists against the wood in inquiring hope. “Are you going to get me out?” His question was barely above a whisper, but somehow, I still heard it, detecting the color of blind trust in his tone.
“I’m gonna try. I need you to sit on the bed. Can you do that for me, Will?”
“Yes,” he said in a loud whisper.
I gave him a full minute before veering back in preparation. Putting as much strength as possible into the strike, I busted into his cell on the first try. The ruckus made me cringe, but there wasn’t shit I could do about that.
Will sat huddled on the cot, and the wide set of his deep green eyes punched me in the gut. I’d forgotten the resemblance, how staring at him was like looking straight into my childhood.
“Let’s get you outta here.” I held out a hand for him to take, experiencing his curious stare in a tangible wave over my skin, and I couldn’t help but wonder if I looked familiar to him. Did he sense the shared DNA between us?
Shaking the question from my head, I pulled him to his feet. There would be plenty of time later to speculate on what Will knew and what he didn’t. First, I had to get him to safety.
I turned, hand surrounding his smaller one, prepared to bolt, and that’s when the tall figure standing in the doorway caught my eye. My heart slammed against my ribcage.
“Going somewhere?” the guy asked, shifting, and the dim bulb behind him caught the top of his head just right, revealing Shelton standing between freedom and me. I stepped in front of Will while still keeping him in my periphery, but it was too late.
My son had seen his face. I was sure of it, and I was certain Shelton knew he’d been made, even as Will dropped to the cot, head in his hands to hide the sight of the man responsible for this situation.
“Don’t hurt him,” I said, trying to keep the plea from my tone. The less emotion I attached to the kid, the less power Shelton could wield over me.
“You fucked up, Mason.” He stepped inside as his favorite three goons filed in after him. They settled between the busted door and me, their arms crossed, feet perfectly spaced apart in the same stoic disregard. Military Dude, standing to the left of Shelton, cracked his knuckles.
Shit.
They had me cornered.
“Let me guess,” Shelton said with a wave of his hand. “About now, you’re realizing the mistake of your actions. Am I right?”
I took another step toward Will. “Leave the boy out of it. This is all on me.”
“Normally, I’d agree,” Shelton said, taking a calculated step forward. “Except what you do falls back on him.” He nodded in my direction, and before I knew it, two of his goons descended. I got in several good blows, drawing blood and curse words until Shelton grabbed my son.
Will let out a terrified shriek, and I froze. The way he looked to me for help gutted me.
The fight in me fled as suddenly as it had come. “Wait!” I shouted, allowing Shelton’s men to slap a set of cuffs onto my wrists.
Shelton put a knife to Will’s throat, and the boy’s complexion blanched. He stopped struggling as the solid metal pressed against his skin. We exchanged horrified glances. Time slowed to a crawl as a cold-sweat erupted on my skin.
“Don’t hurt him! Please. I’ll do whatever you want.”
“Why should I give you another chance, hmm? What are you going to do for me in exchange for the boy’s life?” He tightened his hold on Will, making him cry.
“I’ll cooperate. I’ll make you a shit ton of money.”
The next several seconds dragged past in heart-pounding anxiety. Slowly, Shelton lowered his arm and let Will go. My son scurried to the twin bed, folding himself into a ball in the corner as if he could simply disappear from the danger in the room.
I ached to hold him, to offer whatever comfort I could, but there wasn’t time. Shelton ordered two of his men to take me out of the room. They pushed me around the busted door and stalled in the hallway.
Shelton pointed at Military Dude, who stood inside Will’s room. “Find our guests secure accommodations and get this shit fixed ASAP!”
Hands shoved me from behind, moving me down the narrow hall past the busted door of my cell. They ushered me outside, and a deluge poured on us. My toes sank into mud as we trudged through knee-high grass.
“Where are you taking me?”
“Shut up,” one of them muttered, pushing me forward.
I heard the dogs before I saw them.
Muscular bodies hit the chain-link fencing, and vicious barks ripped through the night. Five Rottweilers, showing off angry teeth, imparting deep growls.
Shelton climbed a staircase that led to a platform at the top of the kennel, and the men herding me up the stairs after him halted, fear tainting their mannerisms. “What’s going on, boss?” one of them asked, shooting an anxious glance at his buddy.
“Which one of you bozos dropped the ball?”
Both men took a step away from the opening in the platform. The dogs jumped and snarled from eight feet below. “We checked on him before taking a smoke break. He wasn’t makin’ a sound in that room.”
“That must have been some break. Did you go to fucking Egypt?” Shelton crossed his arms. “If I hadn’t shown up when I did, he might have gotten one up on us. Fucking idiots!”
“Sorry, boss. Won’t happen again.”
“Damn right, it won’t.”
The next few seconds slithered by in slow motion. Heartbeat thrashing in my ears, I watched in horror as Shelton grabbed the shorter of the two men and shoved him into the pit.
The guy’s screams would stay with me for the rest of my life, those terror-filled shrieks increasing as the sound of ripped flesh and tendon sliced through the night. I buckled over, spewing vomit onto the planks of wood underneath my muddy feet. A lesser man would have pissed himself too.
Shelton closed the short distance between us and wrenched me up by the hair. “I’m not in the business of hurting kids,” he said, “but if you fuck up again—if you sneeze too loud—I will feed your brat to the dogs. Are we clear, or do I need to show you another demonstration?”
Shelton’s remaining goon backed up, face going as pale as snow.
I shook my head, and despite shaking knees, straightened my spine and met the determination in Shelton’s cold eyes head-on. “We’re clear.”
He studied me for several long moments, his shrewd gaze a constant threat.
Finally, he gave an imperceptible nod before pivoting on his heel, hand waving in the direction from where we’d come as he made his way down the stairs.
“Put him back where he belongs,” he barked at his guy, “and make sure he stays there this time.”