Chapter 21
Hiding
It felt like he’d been frozen alive. His body refused to obey his mental commands. His muscles were wooden. Whatever had been in that syringe Norris had injected into him, it had put him down for the count but it hadn’t killed him, and that mistake had cost the guy the ultimate price.
Slowly, gradually, Welsh rolled onto his side and pushed himself up into a sitting position. His body ached in ways he’d never felt before. Plus he had a splitting headache from Rhyne pounding him unconscious. If it hadn’t been for Norris giving him the disadvantage…
Taking a deep breath, Welsh tried to steady himself. He should have known Norris would side with Rhyne. Well, the lab tech was no longer going to be a problem. That begged the question, what was he going to do with Rhyne?
Rhyne.
His anger grew, becoming white hot. Fucking Rhyne. The man’s attack on him was unprovoked. Worse, it confirmed Welsh’s original belief.
Rhyne wanted the woman for himself. To hell with sharing. Double to hell with selling.
“Well, to hell with him, too. Swapping is too good for that fucker. You don’t turn against one of your own.
If you do, we turn on you.” He chuckled.
“You fucked up big time, Rhyne. Cargill and his nest are due into town in a few hours. When he gets here, we’re coming after you.
You and your woman with the tasty blood.
But before we tear you apart one limb at a time, you’re going to get to watch what we do to her, so it’ll be the last thing you’ll see before you die. ”
He was almost on his feet when another thought hit him.
Nash.
He had to find out where Nash stood. “I gotta get back to the house,” he muttered. “I gotta see if Nash had anything to do with this. If I find out he knew that Rhyne had planned this whole thing so they could take possession of the girl and use her just for themselves…”
The idea that the two men might have been plotting against him hung like the darkest pall over his aching head. Nothing was worse than discovering the others in your nest, the guys who were supposed to be your greatest allies, had become your enemies.
He started to return to the hospital to get the bike when he spotted the flashing red and blue lights in the distance.
The cops were already on the scene. Welsh debated whether or not to go ahead and try to claim the bicycle when he remembered that, in this day and age there were a shitload of hidden cameras spying on everything and everyone.
The police might already know what went down in the admissions office, which meant they’d know he’d been there.
On the positive side, however, they didn’t have a name to match the face.
He reached for his cell phone to call for a ride share, only to find his pocket empty.
“Fuck! Where did it go?” Welsh frantically searched the ground around him, without success.
There was no way of knowing where he might have lost it.
The only thing he was certain about was that it had to have been during the scuffle, either when he was inside the hospital and fighting off Norris, or out here when Rhyne blindsided him.
“Guess I’ll have to walk home,” he admitted to himself. “Damn. And I’d just refilled it.”
Taking in his surroundings, he finally located which way he had to go and began walking.
* * *
Grace stared at the old but upkept pale green wood frame house when Rhyne pulled onto the driveway. It was easy to see it had been built back in the 1950s, including the single-car garage.
Reaching inside the console, Rhyne withdrew a remote to activate the garage door. It opened like the eyelid on a giant eye. When it was high enough, he drove the vehicle inside.
“Careful getting out. It’s a tight squeeze.”
He wasn’t wrong. The passenger door almost scraped the two concrete steps that led up to a back door. She took care getting out so she wouldn’t scrape the car’s paint.
Rhyne came up behind her. “Go ahead. The door’s unlocked.”
Grace went inside. As she’d expected, it led into the kitchen. Oven, sink, and cabinets to her right, small eating nook with a table and three chairs to her left. A few yards in front of her, the open living room area, and a hallway beyond that to the left that had to lead to the bedrooms and bath.
Rhyne brushed past her with a soft, “Excuse me.” She watched as he went to one of the cabinets and opened it to extract a box of plastic garbage bags. He jerked one from the roll, replaced the box, then headed for a back room. Grace followed him into the first one.
It held a twin-sized bed, the one blanket haphazardly thrown up and over a pillow. No sheets, no pillowcase. There was a nightstand with a lamp and a phone charger.
And that was it. That was the extent of the room’s contents.
Spartan didn’t begin to describe it.
Rhyne went to the closet, throwing open the beveled doors to reveal a small chest of drawers sitting beneath the hanging garments.
He threw a couple of pairs of jeans into the bag, added another pair of shoes, and topped them with a handful of t-shirts and some socks.
She smiled to herself to note she didn’t see a single pair of briefs or boxers in the lot.
When he was done, he closed the bureau drawers and closet doors. “Okay. Let’s go.”
On their way back to the garage, she took another look around the house, this time with a more critical eye.
The furniture was shabby. She’d bet they were renting the place already furnished.
The walls were bare. There were no curtains on the windows, just the old-fashioned horizontal blinds.
There wasn’t a single unique item that stood out as being something that might have represented their personalities, their pasts, friends, or families.
No photos or souvenirs. The whole house and its contents could be described in one word—dismal.
Livable, but dismal.
Was this the way he was forced to live? The thought of such a bare bones existence almost broke her heart.
She watched Rhyne open the fridge and reach for the vegetable crisper. He muttered something as he slammed it shut before closing the door.
“What’s the matter?” she finally spoke.
“There’s only one bag left. If I take it, they’ll know I’ve been here.”
“One bag?”
That’s when she recalled something Norris had told her. Something about “they add a little water to them and that way they can suck out the last drops of blood still inside. That’s how they get their supply of blood.”
Rhyne broke into her train of thought. “We gotta go. Welsh is probably on his way back here.”
Holding her tongue, she left the house with him. She waited until they were out of the subdivision before commenting. “Think Welsh is expecting you to leave town?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know what he’s expecting. The only thing he’s sure of is that you’re with me.” He checked her with a side eye. “If at any time you want out of this and go it on your own, let me know. I don’t want you to feel like I’m holding you prisoner.”
She gave him a partial grin. “I don’t feel that way with you. Funny thing is, I saw you pound Welsh like a madman, and I wasn’t afraid of you. Of him, yes. He’s creeped me out ever since he came to the hospital and wanted to know more about me.”
Rhyne snorted. “And I don’t?”
“No. No way. Just the opposite. In fact, I…” She softly giggled. “I have to confess, I went back to that dollar store hoping I’d run into you again. Yes, I know it was childish of me.”
“Not in the least.” He pointed to something ahead of them. “I know it’s not fancy, but it’s all I can afford at the moment.”
Grace glanced up to see a triple A motor inn sign below a bright neon one identifying the place as the Restful Inn. Not too far ahead of it sat the interstate, and she realized how far they’d driven.
When Rhyne pulled up to the front office, she stopped him before he stepped out of the car.
“Hold on a sec.” She checked around for something suitable.
Seeing one of her blouses sticking out of the bag in the back seat, Grace reached past the middle console and grabbed it.
She licked a corner of the blouse as she took his face by the chin.
“I’m going to try to clean some of that blood off you.
Otherwise, your appearance might cause the clerk to call the cops, thinking you’ve been injured or something and need help. ”
He patiently allowed her to wipe away most of it. Fortunately, the wounds on his cheeks and above his eye were already scabbed over. When she was done, he gave her a quick word of thanks and went to get them a room.
While she waited, Grace looked in the side rearview mirror at the outline of the city sitting on the horizon behind them. An outline that steadily blurred through her rising tears as this harsh new reality came to rest on her conscience.