Haven 1: How to Save a Life (37 page)

“Good, because I have no idea how we do this.”

“I’ll call Gibson on the way. We find the entrance to the tunnels, and we’re waiting for him.” He pointed at Kevin. “No matter what, you are not going in there. Got it?”

“Okay.”

Walter reached up with one hand and ran his thumb along Kevin’s cheek. “If we come across Prescott before Gibson gets there, you are to get the hell out of the club.”

“I will.” Kevin gripped the hand Walter had against his cheek.

“Promise me you won’t take any chances. For any reason.”

“I promise.”

“Good. Because I can’t lose you. Not like that.”

Kevin gave him a quick kiss. “Not ever.” He swung open the door. He didn’t move a muscle, though.

Outside the door to their room, blocking their exit, stood Prescott.

He had a limp body slung over his shoulder. He stepped inside the room and dumped the body onto the floor. It landed on the carpet with a thump. He slammed the door closed behind him and grinned at Kevin.

“It’s time.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Kevin stood frozen in place. The body on the floor before him was Henderson, his face covered in blood, his eyes open, staring up at them but not seeing a thing.

The room had grown eerily silent. The shitty, whistling air-conditioning unit had either died or decided it had done its best to cool the room and was taking a break.

Walter grabbed Kevin and whirled him around until Walter had his body positioned between Kevin and Prescott. He wrapped an arm around Kevin’s waist, holding him tightly against his back.

“He hurt my boy.” Prescott kicked at Henderson’s lifeless hand that had landed near his boot. “No one hurts my boys.” He gave another kick. The boots were heavy-duty, like those from a firefighter’s gear.

Prescott bent forward and reached inside Henderson’s blazer. When he retreated, he held the cop’s service weapon. He aimed it at Walter. “Stay right there.” He kept the gun in his right hand as he searched Henderson again. He removed a pair of handcuffs and a set of keys and stuffed them into the pocket of his pants.

Kevin swallowed hard. Were those handcuffs for him?

Prescott spoke again, his voice gravelly and sounding oddly both brokenhearted and excited. “He was the one framing you.”

“I know.” Walter began backing up slowly, keeping his body in direct contact with Kevin’s as he moved them as one.

Prescott slunk forward with them, step for step, never letting them increase the gap. Most likely he was playing right into Walter’s hand. If they got him away from the door, they could make a break for it when the opportunity arose.

If they could also get Walter’s gun out, this would all be over. Walter still had the case in his hand at his side. Had he unlocked it at his apartment? Where was the key? Kevin had seen him slip it on his ring with his car keys before they’d left the apartment. Kevin inched a hand toward the right pocket of Walter’s pants. He found nothing.

“Stop.” Prescott raised the gun higher and aimed it at Walter’s forehead. “I told you not to move.”

Kevin froze. Walter did too.

“This is what we’re going to do.” Prescott met Kevin’s stare over Walter’s shoulder. “You’re coming with me.” He looked to Walter. “And you are not. I’m taking my boys, and I’m getting out of this city.”

Walter tightened his hold on Kevin. “You could get away faster without them.”

“I won’t leave them behind.”

“I can take care of them for you. They won’t be alone.”

Prescott laughed. “You forget, I’ve been watching you. You are not what they need.”

Yeah, this guy was a nutcase.

Kevin’s fear wasn’t subsiding, but the rage masked it. He shouted over Walter’s shoulder. “You’re not taking them anywhere.”

Prescott met his gaze. “Yes, boy, I am.”

“He’s not your boy.” Walter shifted his body to cover more of Kevin and gradually started them moving again.

“Don’t worry.” Prescott stared Walter down. “You won’t have time to miss him.” He tilted his head toward the body by the door. “See, you killed him, and then, in your remorse, you took your own life with his weapon.” He held the gun higher, keeping it pointed at Walter.

They were several feet from the door now. If they could get Prescott distracted enough, they could circle around until they had the door at their backs.

Too bad Prescott had other ideas.

It went down fast. One minute he was standing before them, that penetrating stare focused on Walter. The next, he came at them. Kevin stumbled backward and landed on his ass. The gun case flew from Walter’s grip. It skidded across the room and wedged under Henderson’s lifeless arm. Prescott drove Walter flat on the desk, the back of his head pressed down on Kevin’s laptop, the gun jammed between his eyebrows.

Kevin couldn’t move. The nightmare of the past few weeks was about to get a thousand times worse.

Only Prescott didn’t shoot. He glared down at Walter, the gun shaking in his grip. From rage? Or something else?

Slowly Walter turned his head toward Kevin.

Kevin knew what that look meant. He was supposed to run. He wouldn’t, couldn’t even consider leaving Walter to die like this. He had to do something. He got his feet under him and dived for the gun case at the other side of the room, desperately hoping he’d somehow missed Walter unlocking it earlier.

No such luck.

The keys had to be in Walter’s other pocket. Kevin tried to signal Walter to toss them his way.

No luck there either. Walter was fixated on Prescott and the gun aimed at his face.

Prescott wrapped his free hand around Walter’s throat like he’d done at the club.

Only this time Walter got off a good punch, and Prescott loosened his grip. Another punch and Prescott was off balance, the gun aimed at the floor.

It didn’t last. He flung himself back on Walter, got his throat in his clenched hand, the gun aimed at Walter’s forehead again.

Without the keys to the case, Kevin had only one option. He ran to Prescott and swung the case in the air. It slammed into the side of his head. Prescott wobbled for a brief moment but never let up on the grip. Walter’s face turned red. His legs kicked less. His grasp loosened where he’d been clawing Prescott’s hand at his throat.

Kevin went for another big swing. The side of the case connected again with Prescott’s head. This time he let go and staggered to the side. Walter lunged at him. Both men came barreling toward Kevin. Their weight shoved him against the wall, Prescott facing him between them.

That’s when Kevin finally heard it. The bang of the gun.

“Kevin.” Walter sounded far away even though he had to have shouted and they stood close, with only the bulk of Prescott’s body between them.

Prescott elbowed Walter in the face, sending him sailing to his ass on the floor.

“Are you okay?” The concern on Prescott’s face was more unnerving than the psychotic glare he’d been sporting earlier. “Are you shot?” He patted Kevin’s chest.

Was he? He hadn’t felt anything. He looked down at himself. No gushing blood. No gaping holes.

“Kevin,” Walter choked out.

“I’m okay.”

Prescott looked at the gun he had in his hand and then at the hole in the wall beside Kevin. “God, I hate these things.” He rammed the gun in the waistband of his pants. “Don’t worry. As soon as I get rid of your ex over there, I’ll toss the gun.”

“Don’t.” Kevin took a deep breath and spoke again before he changed his mind. “If you leave him here alive, I’ll go with you.”

There was a long pause as Prescott searched Kevin’s face, considered him. “All right. You come with me and don’t try to escape, and I’ll let him live.” He nabbed the black case from Kevin and tossed it aside. He probably had no clue what it held. “But first I need to shut him up.” He gripped Kevin’s arm, pulled him the four steps to the bathroom, and pushed him inside. Kevin tripped and fell onto the stained vinyl floor, the door slamming shut behind him.

“
No
.”

He got to his feet and tried the door. Even though it locked from the inside, he couldn’t get the handle to turn. Prescott must’ve wedged something in the way. Kevin pounded on the door. “Don’t hurt him.”

The distinct sounds of rustling started in the other room. Fists slamming against a body. A groan from Walter.

Kevin threw his weight at the door, but it didn’t budge. Walter let out another loud, painful groan.

“Stop.” Kevin pounded both fists on the door. “Please stop.”

WALTER SWUNG A fist through the air. He missed, and Prescott laughed.

The asshole was enjoying this.

Walter tried another punch. His fist connected with Prescott’s jaw this time. That hurt both of them. Prescott staggered back, and Walter made his move. He lunged for the gun case. He didn’t even get close. Prescott tugged him backward, spun them around, and pinned him face-first to the wall.

“He wants me as much as I want him.” The warm breath and spray of spit had Walter’s stomach turning. As did the words.

“Fuck you.” Walter squirmed, but Prescott was all muscle and years younger. Walter was no match for him, no matter how desperate he was.

“He had a chance to escape, and he didn’t take it. He stayed here with me.”

“He stayed to save me.” Walter flung his head backward, and it collided with Prescott’s nose and upper lip. A spray of blood landed at the nape of Walter’s neck.

That just seemed to piss Prescott off more. He shoved Walter’s face into the wall again. “He’s going with me and my other boys. Once we get away from users like you, they’ll all be much happier.”

Walter surged backward, but Prescott barely moved. Instead he let out another disturbing laugh, and Walter seized the moment. This time he caught Prescott off guard, and they went flying backward, landing on the bed.

They rolled, fighting for dominance amid the bunched-up blankets. Walter kneed Prescott in the balls, and Prescott scrambled sideways, then lifted his foot and rammed Walter in the gut. Walter landed flat on his back on the floor at the foot of the bed, the wind knocked out of him.

Prescott came at him, hauled Walter to his feet, and threw him on his back on the desk again. The cheap table rocked but remained standing. Their phones and Kevin’s laptop clattered to the floor. Walter followed the items down, sliding off the side of the desk. He snatched Kevin’s laptop and swung it at Prescott, missing his head but catching him in the neck. Prescott went down. But he wasn’t out.

He raised his boot and kicked with more power than he had on the bed. The force knocked Walter flat, left him gasping for breath. Prescott grabbed Walter’s wrist, slapped a cuff around it, and dragged him to the other side of the room. He fished the cuffs through the radiator’s pipes and secured Walter’s other wrist, arms behind his back. The cuffs were on too tight. They’d do damage to his wrists unless he kept still. Prescott backed up and crouched until eye level with Walter. He didn’t get close enough for Walter to even consider getting in a good kick. Not that he could’ve moved yet.

“He’s mine.”

The smug leer had a new flood of adrenaline surging through Walter. Too bad he was cuffed in place.

“You fucking touch him, and I’ll—”

“You’ll what? You don’t look like you’re in much of a position to do anything.” Prescott moistened his lips with a swipe of his tongue. “But I am. I’m going to show him everything he’s been missing with the likes of you. He’ll beg me for what I know he wants so badly.”

“You lay a hand on him, and I’ll kill you.”

“I’d love to strangle the life out of you right now, but I made him a promise. I always keep my word.” Prescott rose. “Besides, this’ll be more fun. You can spend the rest of your miserable life imagining all the ways I’m giving him what you couldn’t.”

Walter tugged on the cuffs behind him. The metal dug into his wrists. Blood trickled onto his palms. Funny how he couldn’t feel that. Not even a dull pain.

Never in his life had he wanted his GLOCK in his hand this badly. The gun case still lay on the floor across the room. Why the fuck hadn’t he taken the damn gun out before now? Maybe Henderson had been right about him. Maybe Walter had never been much of a cop. Maybe he’d always been a weak coward.

Prescott returned to stand next to the radiator. He wrenched Walter’s head backward by his hair. “He and I are leaving. You ever come after us—”

“You may as well let him go right now because no matter where you go, no matter how far you run, I’ll come for him. I’ll find him anywhere.”

KEVIN SEARCHED FOR anything he could use to get the bathroom door open or use as a weapon. Stupid fucking cheap-ass hotel that had nothing in its bathroom. No hair dryer, not even a bar of soap or a bottle of shampoo. Absolutely nothing he could use. Why had he set his phone down with his laptop earlier? Now he couldn’t even call for help.

A loud crash sounded in the other room. He shoved his weight against the door. Nothing. He really needed to bulk up. It was a shoddy door. He should’ve been able to bust it down no problem. He tried again. And again.

The other room was silent now. Kevin shouted through the door. “Please don’t hurt him.”

Still nothing.

He pounded on the door. “I’ll go with you if you leave him alone. I’ll go anywhere you want.”

He heard footsteps coming toward him. The door swung open. Prescott’s large body loomed over Kevin, blocking his only means of escape. Although Kevin didn’t want to run away. He wanted to run toward something, someone—Walter. Prescott stepped aside and gestured for Kevin to exit the bathroom.

Across the room, Walter sat on the floor, handcuffed to the radiator. His dark hair was disheveled like Kevin had never seen it. He had a bruise on one cheek, a cut over his eye.

“Kevin…” Walter’s voice sounded small, beyond worried. The next one-word command came out stronger. “Run.”

Kevin didn’t move. He couldn’t. He’d never forgive himself if he left Walter alone in this. He couldn’t take the risk Prescott might stay to hurt Walter more instead of chasing after him.

Prescott came to stand at his side. “Are you going to fight me on this?”