19. Reese
Reese
“Let me out!” I scream as I beat my fists on the door for the millionth time. I have absolutely no idea where I am or how I got here. There are no windows, no table or chairs, just an empty room with concrete walls.
My head aches, my stomach a mess of knots, my memory even worse. I know I was drugged; I felt whatever it was hit my system when that guy was talking to me, but everything else is a blur.
Weston was there. He carried me out of the bar…right?
I sink to my knees, tears streaming down my face. God, what is happening? Where is everyone? Please help me.
My body trembles as I try to remember something—anything—that might explain what is going on.
But the only thing that comes to mind is Weston’s gorgeous hazel eyes, looking down at me. He’d been afraid. Unless that was a dream?
Was it?
Is he here somewhere?
But if he is, where could he be?
“Please! Let me out! Come on!” I scream and push to my feet, tears streaming down my cheeks. “Let me out! You can’t do this!” I scream until my throat is hoarse. Until there’s nothing left.
The door opens, and I scramble backward as a brunette strolls in. Her hair is slick and shiny and has been cut short enough that it brushes the shoulders of her white button-down blouse.
The grey pants she wears are loose on her legs, and the black heels she wears put her a few inches above me.
“Reese, it is so nice to finally meet you face to face.”
“Who are you. Where is Weston?”
She cocks her head to the side. “My name is Brenda.”
“Where is Weston? Is he here?”
“Oh, he is. In fact, I’ll take you to him very, very soon.” She studies me up and down like a predator sizing up its next meal. “I just had to meet the woman who managed to capture Cowboy’s stone heart.”
“He does not have a stone heart,” I snarl and clench my hands into fists.
She grins at me, clearly enjoying my response. “Oooh, so you do have claws. Good to know.”
“What do you want with us?”
“With you?” She crosses her arms and laughs. “Nothing. You’re the carrot on the end of my stick. A toy I get to take away when Cowboy misbehaves. You, dear Reese, are the chain around his neck.”
The imagery is sickening.
Twisted.
It makes my stomach churn.
“Where is he?”
“A bit tied up now, I’m afraid. My colleague has been catching up with him. See, his older brother and Cowboy were well acquainted.” The inflection in her tone has a fresh bite of fear running through me.
“I want to see him.”
She smiles widely, but it’s dripping with venom.
“That’s why I’m here, sweetheart. He’s going to need some tending to.
Come on, right this way, and I’ll take you to him.
” Without so much as a glance back to make sure I’m following, Brenda turns on those stilts and starts out of the room.
I follow, desperation to see Weston outweighing any desire I have to try to knock this woman off her shoes and escape.
We emerge in a dark hallway, concrete on the floor, ceiling, and both walls. Unease slides up my spine with every step we take.
Where are we? Some kind of bunker?
After rounding a corner, Brenda opens a door and steps to the side. It’s dark, but a second later, a light is flipped on, illuminating a small, concrete room.
And then I see him.
Chains wrapped around his wrists have him hanging from the ceiling, his legs barely touching the ground.
“Weston!” I rush forward. His face is bloodied, his chest bare and battered. There’s so much blood I can’t even see where the injuries might be coming from.
Tears stream down my cheeks. “What did you do to him?” I growl the words and clench both hands into fists as I search for a weapon. Anything I might be able to use to get us out of here. I might not be much of a fighter, but I’ll do whatever damage I can on the way out.
“I didn’t do anything,” Brenda replies.
A man steps into the doorway, blood staining his knuckles and splattering his white shirt. He looks up at me and grins. “Hey there, Reese. Afraid that I can’t make that dinner date.”
My stomach twists into a knot so tight I can barely breathe as bile burns my throat. “Max?”
“Oh, that’s right, you two do know each other,” Brenda says, then glances around behind me at Weston. “They’re dating.” She pouts. “Sorry to be the one to break it to you.”
“How dare you!” I scream and rush forward. Max reaches in and wraps his hand around my throat, squeezing just enough to stop me in my tracks.
“Let. Her. Go,” Weston chokes out.
“I don’t play nice, Reese. Let your ex-husband’s face be proof enough of that.” He throws me backward, and I hit the wall hard enough to knock the air from my lungs.
“Don’t you touch her again,” Weston snarls.
“You’re not in much of a position to make requests.” Another woman steps from the shadows.
“Ash?” The betrayal stings like acid on my skin.
She walks right over to Max and leans against his side as he wraps an arm around her shoulders.
Is this really happening?
“Sorry, Reese. I really did like you, but family comes first.”
I look from her to Brenda, putting the pieces together, all while bile burns a hole in my stomach. This whole time, Ash and Max were planning this?
“But why? I don’t understand? What is happening?” I look back at Weston.
His gaze is hard, his jaw taut.
“How about you fix Weston up first. Can’t have him bleeding out too soon.” Brenda reaches behind her and retrieves a red first-aid kit, then tosses it toward me. It lands on the ground right in front of me.
“I’m a vet. He needs a doctor.”
Brenda laughs. “Honey, Cowboy is more of an animal than any man I’ve ever met.
You’re more than qualified. Bring him down.
” She points behind me, and I turn right as the chains binding Weston to the ceiling are dropped.
He falls, and I reach for him, barely managing to keep him from hitting the ground with his full body weight.
I sink down with him, his blood smearing over the front of my dress.
“I’m sorry, Reese.” He groans.
“Shh, it’s okay.” I try to smile, but my lip trembles with everything I am trying to keep inside.
I’m way out of my league here. But if I can help Weston get back on his feet, then we can figure out what to do.
“If you want me to tend to him, I also need fresh water, rags, and these chains off of his wrists.” I lift one, noting the way the iron has rubbed the skin of his wrists raw.
It breaks my heart to know he must be in excruciating pain.
“Get her what she needs, and release him,” Brenda orders someone who is standing out of view.
Then she turns back toward us. “Be a good boy, and don’t do anything stupid,” she snaps at Weston.
“I need you in good enough shape to do what needs to be done.” The shrill tone of a cell phone cuts through the momentary silence, so Brenda steps from the room before pressing it to her ear.
Max, however, remains right where he is, arm around Ash, staring at me. “You know, babe, it’s funny. She really does look so much like her mom, doesn’t she?”
“I think so,” Ash replies. “How is she feeling these days, by the way? Better?”
I stiffen. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Max grins. “I wanted to just off the old lady, but Brenda thought that might alert his little team, and she claimed they would see right through it and circle the wagons. Turns out, even sneaking pills into her organizer didn’t work.
The stubborn woman didn’t want to cause her little girl any stress. ” He crosses his arms.
“It was you? You drugged her?” I get to my feet, fury blazing through my veins. He’d drugged her. But how? How much of this was orchestrated?
“It was harder than I thought it would be, though. Your mother is such a health nut, I had to crush up the pills and add them to her supplement capsules.”
“I’m going to kill you,” Weston says as he coughs and tries to stand. He stumbles, and I reach for him so he doesn’t fall and hurt himself even more. Not that I’m even sure that’s possible at this point.
“I’m not worried,” Max retorts.
Weston’s upper lip raises in a snarl. “You should be.”
Before Max can respond, two men I don’t recognize carry in a bucket of water and some towels. They set them next to the first-aid kit, then turn and leave the room.
Max’s phone rings, and he pulls it out of his pocket to check the readout. “Ahh, sorry to cut this short, but I have to take this. See you soon, Cowboy.” He winks and turns to leave the room, Ash going behind him.
The door closes, and I drop to my knees beside Weston, tugging the water, towels, and supplies closer. After dipping a towel in the water, I turn back to Weston, trying to decide where I should even start.
There is so much blood.
My hands tremble, and tears fill my eyes. What if I can’t save him?
Weston’s hand grips my wrist, and I look up into his eyes. “I’m sorry, Reese.”
“It’s not your fault.” I sniffle. “I need to know where the worst of it is.”
But he doesn’t release me. “Are you okay?” he asks. One eye is nearly swollen shut already, and his lip is split in two places.
“Me? I’m not the one who was pulverized.” I sniffle, tears filling my eyes as I look at his broken face.
“I’ll survive.”
“Not if I can’t find out what’s going on.”
He releases me, so I run the cloth over his chest, cleaning off the blood. As I do, it reveals no less than three separate puncture wounds. Two are small—one on his upper left side and the other on his shoulder. However, the third is larger than the other two, and it’s bleeding far worse.
“Gunshot wound,” he says. “Bullet is probably still inside.”
“Weston.” My hands are trembling as I grab more cloths and press them against the wounds. When he doesn’t answer, I frantically look at his face, only to find his eyes closed. “Weston! Don’t you dare die on me.” I shake him, and he opens his eyes.
“I’m here,” he replies, tone gruff.
“Please stay awake. Here, hold this.” I take his hand and press it on the cloth covering the wound on his shoulder so I can focus on the larger injury.