Lennox (22 page)

They clung to each other, the three of them, bewildered expressions
on their faces. “Whatever your names used to be,” I told
them, “pick something else. Work with the counselors. They’ll
get you on your feet without sending you home. Promise.” The
most lucid of the three nodded at me, her chin held defiant. “And
forget my name. Forget you ever saw me. Can you do that?”

She nodded. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I wish
more guys were like you.”

I smiled sadly. “There are plenty of guys far better.”

But I hoped, after all this blew over, I could be the guy Elena
deserved. The man I’d promised her I’d become.

My nerves were taut as I wound my way back around the mountain toward
Ridgecrest. The sun was dipping low in the west, and I hit traffic on
my way back into town. How long would it take Rory to alert Mama, to
get rescued from the gas station, to come for me? I had to pick up
Elena and Grams and get out of town, fast as I could. We couldn’t
go to the cops, because too many of them were in the McManuses’
pockets. I could ask the Cartwrights for help—I hated the
thought of it, but I knew Alexander Cartwright well enough to know
he’d be thrilled to make the McManuses pay. But how? What could
he do? For all his skeeziness, he wasn’t a criminal mastermind.
Just an opportunistic asshole with too much cash. Maybe that was my
best option. No. I didn’t know. I’d see what Elena
thought.

*

I ditch the McManuses’ van somewhere downhill and start to walk
home. I want to run. I won’t rest easy until I see Elena’s
face again. Each streetlight I pass flickers overhead, as if the air
around me is electrified. I distract myself by making lists of what
I’ll need to grab before we head on the run. There won’t
be much room for the three of us in the Camaro; Grams’s
medication and walking aids take priority. We’ll make it work,
though, I’m sure of it.

I open the front door, my nerves on fire.

“Lennox? Is that you?” Grams shouts. “Where the
hell have you been?”

I rush into the kitchen. “What’s the matter?”

“You’re trying to burn my house down!”

I blink, completely baffled. Then I see the pan she’s gesturing
to on the stove—a pot roast, or what used to be one, now
charred beyond recognition. “I don’t get it,” I
say. “Is something wrong with the oven?”

“I got home from bridge and the whole kitchen was full of
smoke!” she cries. “I was so worried for you and Elena!”

“I didn’t put it in the oven.” I frown. “It
must have been Elena. Where is she? Look, Grams, I’m sorry
about the roast, but we have to go.”

“I don’t know where she is. She wasn’t home when
the ladies dropped me off.” Grams shifts her weight to her
cane. “Not like her, either, to start dinner and then wander
off. What’s this about leaving?”

“Grams. What time did you get home?” I ask. Panic is
clawing its way around my throat. There’s no way Rory could
have gotten back to Ridgecrest already—could he have?

Now I’m second-guessing every detour I took, dropping the girls
off at the shelter, ditching the van. Cursing myself for caring. For
getting myself mixed up with the McManuses to begin with. For taking
the fall for Amber and going to prison. For getting in that car with
Amber and Troy.

No. I can’t lose focus now. I’ve got to find Elena. If I
can just find her, then we can fix all of this. We can get away.

“Not long. Only a few minutes ago.” Grams squints at me.
She may be sick, but she’s still sharp as ever. “What are
you not telling me, Lennox? What kind of trouble are you in now?”

The way she says
now
, like this is nothing new—it breaks
my heart. Elena isn’t the only important person in my life I’ve
hurt with this awful chain of events. “Just a few minutes.
Okay. Okay, thanks.” I slide my phone out of my back pocket,
then realize it’s just the burner phone. I don’t want
Elena’s number tied to it, or anyone else’s. “Where’s
the house phone, Grams?”

“In my bedroom.”

I rush down the hall and start dialing the number for AJ’s shop
on the portable phone. No answer. I dial Elena’s cell phone
next. After a few seconds, I hear her ringtone twinkling from the
bedroom. Shit. Why doesn’t she have her phone with her? This
can’t be right. She wouldn’t just run off without it.

Something’s gone terribly wrong.

I check out the side window and squint into the darkness. Elena’s
Camaro is parked in the driveway, too dark for me to see when I’d
first walked up to the house. I fight down a surge of nausea.

I have to go to Drazic. As terrified as the thought makes me, as
furious as I know he’ll be, I don’t know anything else I
can do. No matter how much he and the rest of the crew will want to
kill me—even more so, if I’ve put Elena in harm’s
way—they have to be willing to set that aside to help me find
her. Won’t they?

The burner phone buzzes in my back pocket. One message from R M.

I slide the phone out with shaking hands. My gaze darts toward Grams,
but she’s settled into her favorite chair in the living room,
her body rigid while she waits for me to explain myself. I can’t
do this in front of her. I head up to my bedroom and sink onto the
mattress, bracing myself before I hit play.

It’s a video message. Rory’s face fills the screen, deep,
grainy shadows carving out the hollows in his cheeks. “Hello,
Lennox.” He’s smiling—never a good sign. The hairs
on the back of my neck start to rise. “It’s really a
shame that you decided to take something that belonged to my family.
And here we were getting to be such good friends.”

Friends. Right. My skin crawls at the thought.

Suddenly, Rory’s face contorts with anger—the eerie
flipping of a switch I’ve seen him do too many times. “But
Lennox. You should know by now.
I don’t tolerate friends who
won’t listen to me!
” he bellows. I flinch as he takes
a deep breath and collects himself; the eerily calm smile returns.
“You took something that belonged to us. So now I have
something of yours, as well.”

The video cuts to an image of Elena. She’s bound to a chair,
her face slick with tears. I jolt back from the screen. My heart is
hammering inside my chest, and my temperature spikes. Elena. Oh, god,
Elena. What have I done?

“Hello?” Elena shouts, her voice watery. The footage must
be from some sort of closed-circuit camera they have wherever they’re
keeping her—a warehouse, maybe? The walls look like concrete,
or maybe cinder block. It’s too grainy to tell for sure. “Is
anyone there?” Elena calls. “Help me!
Help me!
”

I pause the video clip. My heart is shredding into a million pieces
right now. I did this to her. This is all my fault. I couldn’t
wait until I was free to let her back into my life, and now I’ve
delivered her straight into that lunatic’s hands.

I stand up and kick my desk chair. No—the only person
responsible is Rory Fucking McManus and his sick, twisted head. And
I’m going to make him pay. I will murder him. I’ll go
back to prison for a thousand lifetimes if it means keeping Elena
safe.

My temper dwindles and I sit back down to watch the rest. I have to
find clues—anything that’ll help me save her.

The video cuts back to Rory. “Uh-oh,” he says. “It
sounds like she’s getting lonely, Lennox. I’d better go
keep her company.”

Again I feel the urge to vomit. If he lays one fucking finger on her—

“Or, alternately, you could bring the girls to Mama. Really,
the choice is all yours.” His smile pulls taut. “Hope to
see you soon . . . or you won’t be seeing much
of her again.”

The video goes blank.

I replay it a few more times, looking for any more hints I can find
as to where they are. I’ve only visited a few other dumps with
Rory in the past—mostly the trailers at Eagle View where his
drug dealers fix up their product. Nothing that looks industrial like
this. Surely he wouldn’t be dumb enough to hold her at Mama’s
pub. But there must be something I can use to find her. Or even
someone.

“Lennox?” Grams calls from the living room. “Lennox,
why won’t you tell me what the hell’s going on?”

I grab my jacket and head into the living room, then plant a quick
kiss on Grams’s cheek. “Everything’s going to be
just fine, Grams. But I’ve got to head back out.” I
hesitate a moment. I don’t relish the thought of leaving her
alone, either. “Actually, hang on a moment.”

I dial AJ’s cell phone on the house line. “AJ. Listen,
man, I really need a favor from you. Can I bring Grams to your
place?”

“You have some fucking nerve calling me,” AJ snaps. “I
gave your girlfriend a job, but anything more, and the Cartwrights—”

“Dude, fuck the Cartwrights. I’ve got way bigger problems
than them. And besides, the whole reason they—” I exhale
carefully. “Just, look, I’ll explain later. But I need
you, man. Seriously.”

AJ groans. “Goddammit, Lennox. You know I can’t say no to
your grams.” He pauses for a moment; I can imagine him pacing
around his room. “Fine. Bring her by. I’ll watch her for
however long you need. But then you owe me. Hugely.”

Yeah, well, get in line,
I think. “You got it, man.”

I hang up and look toward Grams. Her lips are pressed thin, defiant.
“What have you done, Lennox?”

“Something that would’ve made you proud.” I rub the
back of my neck. “If we can live long enough to appreciate it,”
I mutter.

Her mouth twitches into a smile. “I’m always proud of
you. And I know you’ll get through this, too. You always do.”

“I’ve got a pretty damned good record of survival so
far,” I say. “C’mon, Grams. Let’s get you
somewhere safe.”

I help Grams into Elena’s Camaro—not exactly the easiest
task, for a woman with a bionic hip—and head down the road, the
gears in my head spinning with options. None of them good. All of
them dangerous. But I’ll try every last one if it means saving
Elena.

I lost her once, when I was sent away. I’m not about to let it
happen again.

Lennox

Music wafts out of Drazic’s house when I walk up toward the
kitchen door—Slavic, poppy, but tinged with a hint of sadness.
This is a terrible idea. No way Drazic’s going to be happy to
see my face, and it’ll only get worse when I tell him what’s
happened. But his crew is the best I know. My family, once upon a
time. If anyone has a chance at tracking down Elena, it’s him.

I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t try.

I take a deep breath and rap on the kitchen door.

Drazic flings open the door and an awkward smile settles onto his
face. Okay, that’s weird. He’s not exactly the kind of
guy who smiles out of social nicety. I’m instantly on guard.
“Hi.” I swallow. No way to do this except to rip it off
like a bandage. “Listen, I need your—”

“Lennox. I’m so glad you stopped by.” Drazic steps
back and beckons me into the kitchen. “I guess you talked to
Elena. I understand now. It’ll take some time, but I
understand.”

I’m too stunned to do anything but follow him inside. Something
on the stove smells delicious—some kind of Mediterranean stew.
But I can’t even think about eating right now. I’m all
tied up in knots. “I have . . . no idea what
you’re talking about. But—but never mind. It doesn’t
matter.”

Drazic’s smile fades.

“Elena’s in trouble.” I cringe. “The
McManuses have her. They wanted me to take these girls to a brothel
in Reno, and they were underage, and obviously coerced, and I—I
just couldn’t do it, and they—they took her. Said they
wouldn’t release her unless I brought the girls back to them.
Not that I think for a minute they’ll let either of us live.”

Drazic swears in Croatian under his breath.

I brace myself, gripping the kitchen table chair. “I know you
hate my guts, especially now, but I don’t know who else to ask
for help. I have to save her.” My throat tightens. “I
love her. I didn’t mean to tear your family apart, or mine. I
never meant to hurt anyone. I just couldn’t live with myself
unless . . .”

Drazic claps one hand on my shoulder. For a moment, I feel that warm
fatherly connection I used to feel with him, so long ago. Like no
matter how much I’d fucked up, he’d be there to guide me
back to safety. “God dammit, Lennox. And I was just starting to
like you again.”

I blink. “I—I don’t understand, sir.”

Drazic waves his hand. “Later. Tell me the situation.” He
props himself against the kitchen counter and crosses his weathered
arms. “What do we know? Locations, personalities, anyone and
anywhere that might be involved.”

“All right. The McManuses have a pub down the mountain, but I
doubt they’re holding her there. The video looks like a
warehouse or something. They have a lot of interesting folks working
for them, none of them particularly thrilled with their work.”

Drazic nods. “Good. A weak point. How do you mean?”

“It’s the McManuses themselves—they’re
ruthless. Mama, I mean, you know what she’s like. Mean as hell,
though she seems not to act too rashly. I’m guessing this is
Rory’s doing.”

Drazic swears again. “I was afraid as much.”

“Yeah, tell me about it. No one likes Rory, but everyone’s
afraid of him.”

“Good. We can use that. Who’s just below Rory? Who might
be getting uppity, or tired of his shit?”

I drum my fingers against my lips, thinking for a moment. “Paolo
and Neshaun. Both of them got out of jail around the same time about
a year ago, and like me, they were friends with Sean McManus on the
inside. Had a very different expectation for how the rest of the
family worked. I’d wager we could crack them.”

Drazic nods, his eyes narrowing. “That’s what I like to
hear. Where can we find them?”

“Either at the pub, which is a no-go for us. Or—oh! They
like to practice racing on Highway 12 at night, when the cops are off
setting up DUI checkpoints down on the other end of the valley. I bet
they’ll be there tonight. But—I’m going to need
some help.”