Lennox (24 page)

Paolo groans and bashes the back of his head against the side of his
car. “For fuck’s sake. Okay. Okay. I don’t know
anything for sure—”

“Nine minutes,” Drazic says, an edge in his tone.

“Fine! Okay, so they have a safehouse. It’s in one of the
old industrial parks on the far side of the valley—west of
here.” He gestures toward the other side of the desert, on the
ridge west of Ridgecrest. “Near the old Goldwater mines. Maybe
one of the old miners’ dorms, something like that. They take
people there, sometimes. But they won’t keep her there long. In
fact, they may already be moving her. Depends how long Rory gave you,
really.”

I snatch Paolo by the collar and shove my face in his. “What
exactly do you mean?” I snarl. “That they
won’t
keep her there long.
”

Paolo swallows audibly. “You know what kind of man Rory is,”
he says. “What the hell do you think I mean?”

Rory. Rory would kill her. Or sell her off to a brothel, keeping her
all doped up like those girls. I drop Paolo and turn away, gripping
my hair. We have to save her. And fast.

Drazic clutches me by the shoulder. “Lennox.”

I close my eyes and let his grip steady me. It used to be enough to
remind me that I was fighting for someone more than myself. That I
had a family, and not just a job to do. That I belonged. Maybe I can
have that feeling again.

“We need to go now,” Drazic says.

I open my eyes. “Let’s kick some ass.”

Drazic slides into his car, tossing the tire iron in the rear, and I
climb back into the Camaro. “Hey! Wait!” Paolo shouts.
“You can’t just leave me here!”

I dig around in Elena’s glove compartment and pull out a can of
Fix-a-Flat, then toss it out of the window. It rolls and lands
against Paolo’s bound feet. “Since you were so very
helpful.” I grin at him. “We’ll repay you in full
by putting an end to Rory McManus.”

Elena

“If you’re done screaming, Elena,” Rory McManus
says, those steely gray eyes looming right in front of me, “I
think it’s time that you and I had a chat.”

Almost without thinking, I jerk my knee, aiming to bring it up right
between his legs. But it’s duct-taped to the chair. Fuck. It’s
probably for the best. Rory’s the sort of guy who would have an
entire toolbox full of torture implements. Best not to give him a
reason to use them.

Then again, the good thing about torture implements is that they’re
also handy for cutting duct tape.

I tug my wrists, but they’re bound tight to the chair. Glance
around my surroundings. That’s what I need to do. Figure out
just where I am and how I can use it to my advantage. Like figuring
out the inner workings of a car—I just need to learn what makes
this place tick before I can make it work for me.

Rory straightens up, still watching me, and nods. “That’s
much better. I’d hate to have to cut out your tongue,” he
says. “It’d really hurt your value on the black market.
My friends like a girl who knows how to use her tongue.”

I roll my eyes. That’s when I notice the camera over Rory’s
shoulder, high in the corner of the room. So he can monitor me from
outside, I’d assume. The camera’s cord dangles all the
way to the ground, then disappears into the door frame. Hastily
assembled, or built by someone who just didn’t know or care
about making this room secure? Either way, I can use that knowledge
for myself.

“Don’t you want to know why you’re here?”
Rory asks. His voice has a weight to it. I can tell he’s
irritated that I’m not playing into his psychopath games. If I
don’t start going along with him soon, he’s going to
snap.

But maybe I need him to snap.

“Let me guess,” I say. “Lennox realized what a
bunch of scumbags your crew is and decided he didn’t want a
part of it anymore.”

Rory narrows his eyes. “I’d suggest you watch your tone.”

“My tone? You want me to worry about my tone?” I snort.

Rory snarls. His face turns genuinely frightful, his lip curling, his
eyes flinty points of hatred. I want to curl up in a ball. I want to
push him, but not too much. I need him just angry enough that he’s
off-guard. Not so angry that he fucking kills me.

He may just kill me anyway. But I have to try.

“Go on. Please explain,” I tell him. “I can tell
you’ve been rehearsing for this.”

Rory grits his teeth, but then nods. “He’s an unloyal
fuck, is why. He swore a pledge to us. And he’s broken that
pledge. Wouldn’t go through on a delivery.” Rory smirks.
“Don’t you want to know what kind of delivery?”

“I learned a long time ago it’s better if I don’t.”

Rory tilts his head to one side, studying me. My blood runs cold from
that look. He reaches out, fingers stretching for my cheek. I cringe
and shrink back, but there’s no room for me to move. His
fingers flutter against my skin. It burns like poison, the way he’s
caressing my face. I wish I could stand under a scalding hot shower
from that touch.

“He was supposed to take some girls out to our brothel in
Reno.” Rory’s voice is all sweetness and eerie softness.
It makes me want to hurl. “But they never got the delivery. So
I’ll have to make a substitution instead.”

His fingertips dig into my cheek, nails biting my flesh. He jabs his
thumb against my cheek between my jaws, forcing them open.

“I’d suggest you learn quick how to pretend a man’s
touch doesn’t repulse you,” Rory says. “Your
clients at the brothel won’t be as patient with you as I will.”

I start trembling.
Shit!
I don’t want him to see me
scared. But there’s a real possibility I won’t find a way
out of this. Where is Lennox? Does he even know I’ve been taken
yet? Does he know where I am?

Oh, my god. I squeeze my eyes shut as a new, horrifying possibility
washes over me. What if Rory already has him captured, too?

“Tell you what.” I grit the words out between my teeth.
“If I start screaming again, will you go away?”

Rory sneers, as if I’ve suddenly turned into a bit of dog shit
stuck on his boot. He rears back his hand.

And then slaps me so hard that everything goes black.

*

When I come to, I’m wrapped in blessed silence. No Rory in the
room. Just me and my chair and the camera watching my every move. My
cheek is throbbing something wicked, and my wrists ache where the
duct tape is constricting them, but otherwise, I feel remarkably at
peace. It’s the same zen sensation that washes over me when I
start tinkering with a new car. I know how to fix it—I just
have to roll up my sleeves and figure out what tools to use.

I can hear water dripping. A quick glance over my shoulder shows it
trickling down the wall beside me, pooling not far from the dangling
camera cord. There’s a faint hum in the air, like maybe we’re
near a power station, or a massive generator. Hmm. One of the old
mines, maybe? There are plenty of them scattered along the mountain
and the opposite valley, like Goldwater. Some are from the gold rush
days that got modernized around the 1950s, while others were built in
the ‘70s or later. I can’t be sure which one this is.

Then I hear the whistle of wind through the cinder blocks.

We’re close to a mountain, then—out on the high desert,
the wind is flat and constant, but this wind buckles and warps on
itself. Goldwater moves higher on my list of our possible locations.
But the real question is, what can I do about it? I have no way to
communicate with the outside world. No way of knowing where Lennox
is, or if he’s even alive. He has to be. Doesn’t he? The
only reason Rory has to keep me alive is as collateral. I’m a
bargaining chip for the McManuses to get those poor girls back from
wherever Lennox took them. But whether Lennox is in captivity or not,
whether they’re using me to lure him out or to break him down,
I can’t be sure.

My eyes sink closed as frustration bubbles up in my chest. There’s
no use in crying. No use in much of anything that isn’t finding
a way out of here. But I’m running low on options.

Lennox. What’s he thinking right now? Is he blaming himself for
causing this mess? I wish he wouldn’t. His devotion to doing
the right thing is what I love about him. Doing whatever he can to
better the world around him, even if it means he has to suffer for
it. Like helping his grandmother. Even if it does cause lots of
problems in the short term. He always frets that he doesn’t
deserve me yet. But it’s his good heart that makes him so
special. It’s what makes him more deserving than anyone in the
world.

I remember the night he promised me, so long ago. Before the accident
with Troy, and before Lennox left our family. I was only sixteen; I
was moping around Drazic Muscleworks late one night, feeling sorry
for myself and hating the world while I waited on my uncle to finish
work and take me home.

It was the anniversary of my parents’ death, and I was feeling
their absence extra sharp in those days. To make matters worse, we’d
had to write letters to people who could never read them in English
class, and I’d chosen to write one to my dead parents. I threw
in all my memories from when they were alive and I was a little kid,
mentioning how they played with my toys with me, and Cassidy, the
meanest senior girl in school, found it so hilarious that she made
fun of me in front of everyone. Every time I thought about her stupid
face twisted in laughter, I went back into Drazic’s office to
cry all over again.

At one point, Lennox knocked on the doorway to the office and looked
at me, hesitant, lower lip in his teeth. “Hey,” he said
gently, and tried to smile. “Mind if I come in?”

I shrugged. Not that I ever turned down an opportunity to be around
Lennox, but I knew I wasn’t looking or feeling my best.

“Better idea,” he said. “How about I come back in
ten minutes, with tacos from Rio Verde?”

That cracked a smile from me. “Okay.”

I wiped my eyes and fixed my hair, vain as I was, and by the time
Lennox returned with three of the best brisket tacos on the whole
planet for me and pork belly tacos for himself, I was starting to
feel better. We ate in silence save the crinkle of wrappers and soft
groans of deliciousness. Once Lennox was done, he shoved his empty
wrappers aside and looked at me with a soft smile.

“So,” he said. “Do you want to tell me about your
shitty day, or do you want to hear about mine first?”

I blushed. I wasn’t sure I wanted to tell him about my stupid
crush at all. I mean, sure, I had crushes on guys at school, even
dated a few, briefly, before they showed what ignorant losers they
were. But my heart belonged to Lennox.

“Boy troubles. Mean girl troubles.” I waved a hand
dismissively. “I’d rather hear about your day.”

Lennox sighed and leaned forward, spreading his legs and propping his
elbows on his thighs so he could look me right in the eyes. “All
right, well, I found out Amber was flirting with another guy. Again.
So we’re taking a break. Again.” He grimaced, and shook
his head, like he was more angry with himself than with Amber.

“I’m so sorry,” I said, but Lennox held up a hand.

“No, it’s cool. Someday I have to break this cycle, but
for now, I accept it for what it is.” He drew a deep breath.
“But then Grams got the hospital bill for her emergency hip
replacement.”

“Ouch.” I only had a vague notion what such a thing might
cost, but I doubted it was in his budget.

“Yeah. She’s going to have to take out a second mortgage
to pay it. But pretty much all of my paycheck goes to the first
mortgage, and her pension checks are getting smaller every
month . . .”

I knew the stress of money. I wasn’t working the books for
Uncle D back then, but I knew enough about our finances to know how
shaky we were from week to week. The only advantage we had was that
my parents’ wrongful death settlement had paid off Drazic’s
house. But the shop was more of an expensive hobby most months than a
source of income.

Lennox let out his breath and smiled faintly. “Oh, well. I feel
better just talking about it.” He nudged one of my feet with
his. “Maybe you will, too.”

What would really have made me feel better, I thought, was if I could
crawl right into Lennox’s arms then. Kiss his forehead as he
held me tight. I fantasized about it all the time. But instead I just
smiled shyly at him. “I know you’ll find a way to fix it.
You always do.” I tilted my head. “And someday, you’ll
find someone who won’t put you on the spin cycle, either.”

I secretly hoped that someone would be me.

Lennox’s grin widened. “And so will you,” he said,
making my heart flutter. “You’re such a good soul, Elena.
Strong but gentle, smart and compassionate . . .”
He nudged my feet again. “I’d scoop you up myself if I
could.”

I went very, very quiet. I was more passive back then, willing to let
everyone walk all over me and lay any number of demands at my feet
without ever speaking up about what I wanted. But in that moment, I
decided to lay it all out. To say what I meant. Lennox thought I was
strong? It was time to be strong.

“I wish you would.”

Lennox laughed, reflexively, but then his expression went slack as he
realized I was serious. He went very, very still. I could see the
struggle warring behind his eyes. What was he weighing? I was
desperate to hear it all, even if it was painful to me.

Then he cupped my hands in his and gripped them tight. His gaze met
mine, and I felt my heart split open with how much I was in love with
this boy, this good-hearted soul who nevertheless got caught in bad
circumstances. I thrust my shoulders back and met his gaze.

“I tell you what,” Lennox said. “How about I make
you a promise?”

“What kind of promise?” I asked, my voice so tiny and
weak.