Chapter 20 Desperation
Cade
Cade slammed the door and stalked into Hamm's basement, feeling like he had swallowed a live creature that was writhing in his gut. His jaw ached from clenching it so tightly, and every muscle in his body cramped with a throbbing tension, like he was vibrating out of his skin.
Ignoring Taylor and Rodriguez trailing behind him, Cade strode directly into the bathroom and closed himself inside.
Leaning his back against the door, he closed his eyes and breathed in and out, resisting the primal need to scream and searching for the strength to fend off the dangerous spiral that threatened the tenuous hold on his emotions.
Feeling too weak to stand, he slid to the floor and rested his head against the door.
Hours earlier, Annabeth had found six possible temporary holding sites by cross-referencing the warehouse's coordinates with the data on Wilson's laptop, and Hamm had immediately dispatched teams to investigate.
Cade had clung to the hope that the intel would lead them to Tristan, even though his instincts screamed it wouldn’t.
He hated that his instincts had been right.
Finding the sites vacant and silent had felt like a foreshadowing of a future he feared, where Tristan was gone and the emptiness left behind threatened to swallow him whole.
A week ago, he couldn't have even fathomed a loss that would hit him with such force, stealing his breath and his sanity. The idea of Tristan suffering — beaten, abused, and god knows what else — had him teetering on the edge, a blink away from coming completely unhinged.
Cade let himself feel it all, the frustration and disbelief, the fury and heartbreak, for several long minutes, then willed his body to relax and his brain to engage. He needed to think, to be clearheaded enough to act if they got a lead.
To keep his shit together.
Finally feeling stable enough to stand, Cade took one deep breath and blew it out before joining the rest of the team.
As he stepped from the bathroom, he scanned the room and found Natalie curled up on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket and staring at the television with hollow eyes above dark circles.
Her gaze shifted to him, hopelessness radiating from her in waves, and a stab of emotion pierced Cade's chest, though he wasn't sure if it was guilt, sympathy, or responsibility.
Or maybe all three.
Given Natalie's demeanor, he figured someone had already briefed her on their failure. Taking a seat next to her on the sofa, he greeted her softly. "Hey."
"Hey."
"We didn't find him. I'm sorry."
She nodded numbly.
"Did you sleep at all?" he asked her.
She lifted one shoulder in response.
Cade hadn't slept well himself, with anxiety-ridden dreams where he searched frantically for Tristan but was constantly disoriented and obstructed by hallways that zig-zagged in illogical directions.
His panic had escalated throughout the nightmare sequence, and he'd woken with a tightness in his chest and the same near-hysterical feeling that hadn't yet subsided.
Because the dream was too close to reality, like he was living in some low-budget horror movie.
Except the monsters were real.
Unsure what else to say and still frustrated over his inability to comfort someone adequately, Cade sat silently next to Natalie, figuring he could at least be there if she wanted to talk.
She didn't seem inclined to speak, so they stayed like that, still and quiet, trapped in their own worlds. Cade’s thoughts twisted between fear for Tristan and the crushing sense of failure: failure to find Tristan, to protect him and Natalie, to do his job, to carry out his mission, to uphold the code that had shaped him.
Without his code and without Tristan, what would be left of him?
Annabeth called out, drawing their attention. "Cade, Natalie, we found something."
He watched Natalie rise and sit at the table, looking so stiff and fragile he worried she was about to break, and his gut churned at what this was doing to her. She had already endured so much — too much for someone so young.
Reminding himself he needed to keep it together for her sake, he moved to the table himself to sit as well, doing his best to mask his agitation, to school his features into a somewhat neutral expression.
Scanning the faces around the table, he noted the matching stony expressions, and his gut clenched at the realization that they all shared his pessimism about the outcome of this situation.
Hamm and Annabeth stood at the front of the room wearing the same clothes as last night.
"I deployed a program to search the dark web for certain keywords related to the case," Annabeth began.
"I found several messages from disgruntled clients and one contract out on the Handler by someone called the Gem Collector.
At first, I didn't think much of that, since none of the communications seemed interesting or informative, but about a half hour ago, I found a message from the Handler to this Gem Collector.
" She hesitated for a second before adding, "And it's bad. "
Cade's hands fisted on the table, and he pressed his mouth into a hard line as Annabeth said, "Before I read it, I think they are using the terms 'star ruby' and 'fire ruby' to refer to female and male redheads."
There were some nods around the table, and Annabeth continued.
"It says, 'I realize you are unhappy about the rough ruby, and I have a proposition to help compensate you for the loss.
I understand that while you prefer star rubies, you occasionally purchase fire rubies as well, and I have one I think you will be interested in.
It has strikingly similar qualities to the rough ruby since they are from the same crystal.
I am willing to sell it to you for half of your initial bid in the auction and the cancellation of the contract on my life.
I've attached a picture. Deal expires at noon. '"
Annabeth looked up from her screen and softly added, "I was able to decrypt the image. It's Tristan."
The words hit Cade like a physical blow, and he flinched. "I want to see it."
Shoving out of his chair, ears buzzing with static, he approached Annabeth's computer as fury burned through his veins. "Show it to me," he snapped, his tone quiet and cold.
Annabeth turned to Hamm, who pressed his lips together tightly but agreed with a dip of his chin. When she pulled up the picture, Cade's breath hitched.
Tristan looked ashen and exhausted, but he was thankfully alive with no apparent injuries.
Cade had hoped to see that familiar, angry determination in the other man's eyes, but the only emotion he recognized was fear.
Swallowing hard and clenching his hands so tightly that fingernails dug bloody moons into his palm, he clamped his jaw shut, afraid of what sounds might escape from his throat.
He wanted to throw a chair, to flip the table, to punch through the plaster wall, but he forced himself to sit again and contain his reaction. It took every ounce of discipline he possessed to focus on the conversation around him despite the shrieking in his head.
"So we know the Handler does have him. That's something. Do we know anything else? About a drop-off time or location?" Sullivan asked.
"No," Annabeth replied. "I haven't seen a reply, so we don't know if this Gem Collector even wants Tristan."
Cade sat seething as he imagined tearing those bastards limb from limb, cutting off their goddamned dicks, chucking them into a meat grinder, inflicting any and every heinous atrocity his twisted mind had ever concocted.
"If he doesn't, will they try to sell him to someone else?"
"Unclear. The deal expires at noon, though, so we'll know soon."
"What do we know about this Gem Collector?"
Annabeth's gaze darted to Natalie, then to Cade, as if assessing them. When she didn't answer, Cade figured whatever she had to say must be bad.
But Jesus fucking Christ, how much worse could it be?
"Natalie, maybe you should step into the other room for a little while," Hamm suggested. "Surely you don't need to hear the specifics."
"No, I want to stay," she announced, lifting her chin. Annabeth studied her for a moment, unsure, but Hamm nodded, giving her the go-ahead.
"We know this Gem Collector collects rare gems."
"What do you mean by rare?"
"From what I found, he has a preference for rubies, which we know are natural redheads, and citrines, which are natural blondes, but he also once acquired a woman with Albinism, which they call diamonds."
"And what else?" Cade asked, knowing that couldn't be the worst of the news.
Annabeth's voice was gentle. "They say he drugs his victims to make them compliant or even to render them unconscious."
Natalie stifled a sob as the information seeped into Cade's brain.
If Tristan was drugged, he couldn't fight back, couldn't protect himself.
Horrible new images of Tristan, incapacitated and completely vulnerable, flashed in his mind, and unable to contain his fury any longer, Cade slammed a fist on the table and rose to his feet, yelling, "I need to find him! "
"We know, Cade. We're doing all we can," Tag interjected, his voice lacking its usual edge.
Cade turned to him, on him. "No, you don't know. You don't understand. I need to find him!" Cade shouted, his voice shaking with fear and despair so staggering he thought he might implode.
"No," Hamm insisted, coming to him and gripping both his shoulders.
"No, Cade, we need to find him. You are not alone.
You don't have to do this by yourself. We're your friends.
We care about you and Tristan and Natalie, and we're going to help you.
It's okay to rely on others. You don't have to be alone. Do you hear me?"
The static buzzing in his brain and the blood whooshing in his ears drowned out the sounds around him, but Cade fixated on Hamm's words, 'You are not alone,' and they persisted in his thoughts on a continual loop.