Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 125248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Free sat beside him, shoulder pressed to his, wrists bound the same way. He had dirt on one cheek and blood drying along one knuckle from where he’d hit the van floor during the ride, but his expression kept drifting between bored, annoyed, and intellectually offended.
Curtis had fallen asleep.
Actually asleep.
Slumped against the wall with his head tipped back, split lip swollen, one knee bent, snoring in a low, steady rhythm as if he was home on a couch after eating too much dinner.
Xander stared at him.
They’d been kidnapped at gunpoint in the middle of a public street. Taken in a van. Hauled into some warehouse they couldn’t identify. Tied up, guarded, threatened. Held for ten-million-dollar ransom by men aching to get revenge from last week.
And Curtis was snoring.
Tech and Free were whispering to each other about employment possibilities.
“I’m telling you,” Free murmured, “since the task force is shut down instead of job hunting, we should travel for a while.”
Tech’s mouth barely moved. “Maybe Europe. We could always consult remotely. You look amazing in scarves.”
Free’s brows lifted. “That is true.”
Xander was certain he was hallucinating from fear.
Curtis snorted in his sleep, shifted, and mumbled something before he dozed back off.
Xander wanted to slap all three of them.
Maybe this was their normal. But he was about three hours past almost shitting himself.
It’d been hours.
Where was God? Where were the police?
Where was his Cassie?
Where was the FBI, the A-Team, the Green Berets, anyone?
Surely, they had a plan by now. God looked like the kind of man who made plans just for the sake of making plans. He had to have something he could pull from his archives. Something he’d jotted down on a napkin after watching an episode of CSI.
But they were still here.
Still tied.
Tech and Free had stopped discussing travel and moved on to gadgets.
“Did you see the biometric latch on Wes’s lab cabinet?” Free whispered.
Tech frowned. “The one with the pressure misdirection?”
“Yeah. That shit was cool.”
“It had three-factor authentication buried under a brass hinge. Now that’s art.”
Free’s eyes brightened. “I wanted to steal it.”
Tech struggled to stifle his laugh.
“What was really cool was they let me build the dead man’s trigger for the blast zone they did on the final scene. The fire flared at least fifteen feet high,” Tech grinned, then glanced around Free at him. “Xander, what’d you think?”
“Are you both serious right now?” he gritted.
Free looked at him. “About the fifteen feet? It had to be—”
“No, damnit. About acting like this is a damn coffee break.”
Free angled his head, studying him with a little more kindness. “We’re calm because we’re a family. Trust us, please. God isn’t gonna let anything happen to us.”
Xander’s stomach rolled. It had been forever. If they’d been shot, their bodies would be decomposed already.
He glanced toward the kidnappers. Two stood near the doors. One sat on a crate with a rifle across his lap. Another paced near the loading bay, phone in hand.
He couldn’t see all nine at once, and that made it worse. Every time one disappeared through a doorway or into a dark corner, he imagined them coming back with a new idea.
He lowered his voice. “Free.”
“Mm?” Free leaned closer.
“Can’t you hack into my account and transfer them the money?” Xander swallowed. “Then they’ll let us go.”
Tech and Free both turned their heads and looked at him as if he’d just grown another face.
Free blinked. “Of course I can.”
Xander’s pulse jumped. “Then do it.”
“No.”
“What?”
“The question isn’t can I,” Free whispered. “The real question is, will I. And the answer is hell-fuckin-no. No way in bloody hell are these dumbasses getting one cent of your money.”
Xander took a slow breath through his nose, trying to keep his voice from rising. “It’s my money.”
“Yes. Which is why I’m protecting it.”
“I have enough to pay it.” Xander leaned closer, anger and fear twisting together. “If it means keeping you guys alive, I’ll pay it.”
Tech shook his head. “You can’t pay them.”
“Why not?”
“Because they’ll kill us afterward.”
Xander went cold.
Tech’s voice stayed low and level. “Maybe the one in charge only wants the money. But that second bastard, the one who keeps coming over every half hour to stare at you, this is personal for him. He wants somebody to pay for his brother’s life. And money won’t cut it.”
“We’ve also seen their faces. Which makes us loose ends,” Free added quietly.
“Then what?” Xander was on the verge of sobbing. “If paying them gets us killed and not paying them gets us killed, then what?”
Free tilted his head, his gaze shifting.
“Morrison said he’s not going to let anything happen to you.”
Xander went still.
Free’s lips curved, small and sad. “He said to tell you to stay calm. To keep breathing and to listen to us.” His eyes warmed. “He said he loves you, and he promises he’s going to say that to your face real soon.”