Rusty whirled, snarling, and tall-guy whipped the gun against Rusty’s jaw. Rusty staggered.
“Next time, I’ll shoot you,” Tall-guy said, ice-cold. “Keep your hands in the air.”
Climbing into the back without using his hands was tricky. Cross turned, sat his ass on the lip of the loadbed, and scooted back, pushing with his good foot. The shorter guy stuck his gun in his hoodie pocket and climbed in after him. A pair of handcuffs was clipped to a recessed eye bolt in the floor near Cross. Following orders, he lowered his right hand and flinched as the short man clipped one cool metal cuff tightly around his wrist.
Short-guy told Rusty, “You next.”
Under the tall man’s unwavering gun, Rusty submitted to the same treatment on the other side of the van, his wrist locked to the floor. Then the short man hopped out and shut the doors behind him.
The front wall had a small window into the cab, the daylight bright enough for Cross to see Rusty easily. A shadow movedacross the window, and he saw one of the men peering back, watching them, ski mask still in place. He resisted the urge to give the man the finger.Cooperate, don’t antagonize them.
“Well, this sucks,” he murmured, figuring out a way to sit with his back against the side and his legs outstretched. The van started up, then began moving.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Rusty ground out.
“On the plus side, my foot is now elevated.”
Rusty choked. “Was that meant to be funny?”
“A little bit funny?” A sudden stop had Cross sliding up against the covered wheel well, thumping his hip. “I think I preferred the last time I was kidnapped, when I got to do my own driving.”Although not really, when Scotty sat in the backseat, a gun to his head, about to die if I hit a pothole wrong.
“How come you didn’t freak out that time?” Rusty stared around the back of the van, wild-eyed. “Dale said you were super cool.”
I hid it well.Cross tried to cling to his faith in his people, in Amy and her systems, but knowing they’d come after him wasn’t the same as actually being safe. He might only be worth money alive, but criminals panicked, shit happened. He fought to pull in long, slow breaths, counted to twenty, and steadied his voice against the racing of his heart. “My dad sent me and Marie to kidnapping preparedness training when I was ten and she was fourteen.”
“Seriously?”
“He didn’t get to be an elite computer programmer by ignoring probabilities or failing to cover all the bases. Yeah.”
“Was it useful?”
“I learned some skills.” He didn’t want to discuss what. There’d been a lot about getting out of restraints, and he could pick a handcuff lock with a paperclip or a shim. He had a tool in his wallet. But the ski-mask guy was still watching through the window. Cross might get his own cuff off, but he wouldn’t be able to free Rusty before the kidnappers realized they had a problem. And with the damned boot, he couldn’t run even if they got the chance. He murmured, “Stay cool, speak softly, cooperate unless you have a great shot at getting away. Try to get your kidnappers to see you as a human being like them.”
“Fuck ’em.” But then Rusty lowered his voice. “I think the short guy’s Tyler. I’m so sorry.”
“Shh.” Cross shuddered, and barely breathed his words. “If it is, don’t let them know we know.” Victims who saw their kidnappers were a lot less likely to go home safely. And if it was, Tyler’s obsession with Rusty plus his drug use gave this a whole added unpredictability.Shit. What if he wants more than money? What if this isn’t just for ransom? Will he hurt Rusty?His stomach cramped with nausea.
“So this is my fault,” Rusty moaned.
“No fault, no blame. We’re gonna hang in there.” He added on another faint breath, “Trust Amy.” Rusty had barely any interaction with her, but Amy oozed competence. Cross figured a reminder that the pros would be after them in a hot minute would help.
“Will she—?” Rusty shook his head. “No, don’t tell me. Here.” He shifted around and lifted Cross’s boot to better elevation on his thigh. “How’s your ankle?”
“Been worse,” Cross told him, and when Rusty took up a one-handed massage of his calf muscles, Cross murmured, “Thank you,” even though it twinged his foot. Bloodflow was good, elevation was good. Rusty doing anything he could for Cross in this scary situation was, well, everything.I love you.He didn’t say it because it was leverage for the kidnappers. But he thought the words hard.
Amy would suspect by now that they had a problem. As soon as his shoe-heel tracker got more than five hundred feet from his smart watch off his own property, Amy would get an alarm. As a teen, he’d been chased down more than once, pre smart-watch, for forgetting his phone different places. But he hadn’t done that in years, so Amy would be on high alert. The speed they were travelling would tell her he was in a vehicle. The Highlander’s stationary GPS would show it wasn’t his own car.
Amy will be after us. She’ll help.
That certainty wasn’t enough to calm the flutters of panic in his belly. His vision went dark and hazy around the edges and his throat tightened until he couldn’t breathe. Sharp pulses of pain in his chest felt like an oncoming panic attack.No! This is not the rented Navigator. No gun to Scott’s head. No gun to Rusty’s head.He focused on the feel of Rusty’s fingers on his skin.He’s alive. We’re both alive.
He wished it was another nightmare.I might wake up any minute.But the fiery pain in his ankle and the full-sensory impact of metal under his ass and the engine in his ears and his own sweat already soaking his pits said no.
All we have to do is survive. Stay calm. Get free.He wrestled with his panic, trying to be cool for Rusty.Remember your training.
Cross shifted his ass on the hard loadbed to make sure his wallet was still in his pocket. Trying to escape was supposed to be a last resort. Wait for rescue unless the situation was going bad. This had to be about money, right? Tyler wasn’t just in it for revenge. He could’ve shot them right there at Mrs. Murinko’s…
Rusty stopped rubbing Cross’s ankle and reached toward him as far as he could.
