Chapter 38
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
COOPER
Pulling open the door, Caleb ducks his head out to check the coast is clear.
He tugs me out into the hallway by my collar and lifts his soaked shirt up over his head, pulling open the heavy-duty grate on the wall and discarding it down the laundry chute.
Then he claps his hands together like he’s just invented the fucking wheel.
“Okay, that’s better I guess; the half-naked man won’t raise any questions.
” The lashing of sarcasm is clear in my tone.
It only takes one side-eye look from my brother, and I drop the smart arse remarks and follow suit.
Just as we’re about to check the buildings cameras to see the best way to escape, a guy comes stumbling out of the stairwell.
He passes us, shooting us with a thumbs up as he orders a pizza on his phone.
I don’t know what ‘flefroni’ is, but he seems adamant he wants it as spicy as it comes.
He reels off the address, cutting off the call and fumbles with his keys in the lock to the room next door to Ebony’s, humming along out of tune to a Kelly Clarkson song as he pushes his way inside and kicks the door closed behind him.
“Now can we leave?” I press, getting antsy as I watch the police in real-time clear the second floor on my phone. My brother holds up his finger to silence me and crosses the hallway, knocking on the drunk guy’s door.
“Seventeen and nine—that’s one fast pizza,” we hear him slur through the door.
“The man can’t tell time anymore; push inside the second he opens up.”
We can hear him fumbling with the locks as I watch the police climb the stairwell.
My lip nearly in tatters with how I’m working it between my teeth.
The disappointment on the hungry drunk guy’s face is evident as we push our way inside and kick it closed behind us.
The guy falls back on the sofa, struggling to get up like an overturned turtle, and it would be comical if it wasn’t so sad.
“Hey fucks,” he snaps angrily, louder than we need right now with the entire Hells Haven Police force swarming the hallway.
Yeah, that’s enough of that.
Caleb seems to have read my mind as he punches the guy square in the face and knocks him out cold. A necessary evil in the grand scheme of things.
I thumb through the post on the side table as Caleb shoots off a message to Jose about keeping us updated on the tracker in Ebony’s phone if it comes back online.
Making his way over to the sink, he sticks his head under it and washes away what remains of the blood on his torso as a knock at the door echoes through the room.
Caleb kicks off his boots and socks and shuffles his way out of the jeans so fast you’d think he was on a promise to get laid.
If we’re lying to save our arse, we need to be all in.
Standing here stark bollock naked Caleb grabs for a towel slung over the dining chair pilled high with football gear, securing it around his waist to cover his modesty.
“Thought you were on a promise with our girl and wanted easy access huh? Or did you just decide little Cal needed an air out?”
“Shut it!” he snaps with a stern don’t-fuck-with-me expression on his face. He’s worried for Ebs but he’s hiding it well.
“Showtime,” I say chipperly, throwing a letter his way as he grabs for another smaller towel to sling over his shoulder and hide some of the prison looking tattoos on his chest.
“Percy Jackson. Are you having a laugh?” he whispers as he reads the name on the phone bill.
I don’t say anything as another more impatient knock sounds out. I gesture to the door and hide in the coat cupboard opposite.
Swinging the door open, I see Caleb’s shoulders relax, which lets me know he doesn’t recognise the cop.
“Sorry, Officer, I was just in the shower,” he says it with a smile as he rubs the towel over his hair.
“Identify yourself,” the portly guy demands as he wipes sweat from his pale face. Clearly, he hasn’t enjoyed this little excursion; sucks when you’re built for a desk job.
“Percy Jackson,” Caleb states, and for a second the cop looks suspicious.
I’ve never been arrested thanks to a fictional character before—I guess there’s a first time for everything.
Before the cop can interrogate my brother on the validity of his stolen identity, hollering sounds out as an officer kicks down the door to Megan and Ebony’s apartment.
“Don’t leave. I’ll send someone by in a little while with some more questions.”
“No problem.” Caleb salutes the guy and closes the door in his face before he has a chance to scurry off.
“Call Mateo, we need to make sure Megan isn’t with him. There’s something off about those camera feeds.”
We keep it brief when the call connects. It sounds like we’ve just woken him as he yawns. The fucker seems to perk right up when we mention that the girls have disappeared.
“I changed their locks—there’s no way someone got in without an invitation or a key.” The panic is clear in his tone, and I lower the volume as his voice gets all high-pitched as Caleb rolls his eyes and pulls up his jeans.
“Is he crying?” I whisper with brows pinched.
The wracking sobs from the other end of the line are answer enough.
If we’re saving Ebony and Megan, it won’t be with his help.
Maybe he can come and distract the cops with his sad little rich boy routine.
I’m sure his daddy has lots of money to let the police run with the kidnapped-for-ransom idea while we get to work.
“I don’t understand,” he whines, his keys jingling as it sounds like he’s running down a flight of stairs. “What do we—”
Caleb cuts off the call, and I slide the phone into my back pocket before Mateo can finish his question. “Abercrombie is on his way over then?”
“We need a better nickname for him,” I decide.
“He’s totally earned the name ‘princess.’” Caleb grins while securing his belt and shrugging into a t-shirt he finds slung over the back of the sofa, tossing me one out of the pile to follow suit.
“We would have been better off trying to squeeze into one of the girls’ tops,” I groan, tugging at the cheap fabric that itches against my skin.
My phone chimes with a message, and I pull it out and open it to an email with footage of Ebony’s living room.
A man dressed all in black wearing a balaclava lowers to the ground and hides behind the sofa moments before Ebony comes into the kitchen.
We watch as she dances along to the music while that fucker remains hidden; she clearly has no idea.
The moment she finishes her drink and sways on unsteady legs, the stranger rises from behind the sofa and injects her with something.
Her face crumples with pain, tears in her eyes as the fear consuming her washes away the taut expression.
Her voiceless cry for help stutters out of her.
When she becomes a heap on the ground, the masked intruder turns and waves at the camera.
“Set an alarm—we have a maximum of two hours to find Ebs. Someone wouldn’t go through all this trouble to be content with just holding her hostage. She has no family and no money. This is personal.”
I don’t highlight the fear I hear in my brother’s voice, but I feel it too as my chest tightens painfully at what we’ve just seen.
Caleb may be acting like this is a run-of-the-mill kidnapping, but we both know the only person who could have our Dove is the Horseman, and up until now, he hasn’t been in the girl-snatching game for the money.
“Got a plan?” I watch Caleb pull up his boots and throw the towel over our new friend Percy who is still out cold on the sofa.
With determination creasing his brow, he looks me dead in the eye, the strength he knows she needs right now unwavering in his glassy green gaze.
“We follow the technology. Ezra said the feed is linked to a home base here in the building, so we start at the bottom and work our way up until we find something. Ever broken into a basement before, brother?”