Aidan gave him a chilly smile. “None of your damn business.”
One hour and fifty-five minutes later, Aidan waited in the mildewed kitchen of Hamilton House, listening to rats scrabble overhead.
“Damn,” Carter muttered. “And I thought this place was creepy during a party.”
“Yeah.”
The moon was nearly full, but between the boarded-over windows and the thick overgrown magnolias outside, only the rare stray moonbeams slipped through the cracks to slant across the floor. It was a dark, haunted place tonight, full of whispers that had gotten caught in the cobwebs, air laced with damp smells and menace. It made Aidan think of the night Mason Stephens had brought his sister here and beat her into unconsciousness. A shudder moved through him, and he wondered if Carter was thinking about that night too.
The house vibrated, suddenly, shifting under the weight of a single step at the front door. “Yo, Jesse?” Greg called, voice echoing as he moved toward the ballroom.
Carter changed his voice, affecting irritation and boredom. “Back here, in the kitchen.”
Mumbled cursing. Sound of a trip and a struggle for balance. “Jesus, it’s dark as shit in here.” His breathing became audible as he passed through the threshold of the kitchen. “Turn on a damn light.”
“Okay,” Carter said. But he waited. And the steps drew closer, closer.
The light came on with a bright flare, a high-powered Energizer number that could have doubled as a weapon.
Greg brought an arm up to shield his eyes, and Aidan jumped on him, tackling him to the ground.
“Hey! What the–”
Greg was a small guy, but he was wiry and quick, and Aidan knew he had to make short work of this capture if he was going to pull it off. He flipped Greg to his stomach and managed to snag his wrists. He bucked and kicked and squirmed. Shit, Aidan was going to lose his grip…
Carter knelt beside him. “Here.” He produced a zip tie and cinched Greg’s wrists together, flashlight sitting on the floor and casting giant, spider-like shadows of Greg’s hands onto the far wall.
“What the fuck?” Greg hissed.
“That’s funny,” Aidan said. “I’ve been thinking the same thing.”
~*~
“Have you ever watched your mate Mercy do this?” Fox asked. He peeled another strip of duct tape off the roll and the sound was obscene as it cracked through the autumn night.
“No,” Aidan said, grimacing. “I don’t have the stomach for it.”
Fox lifted his brows, his expression mocking in the glow of the truck headlights. “Best get over that quick.”
Aidan took a deep breath and squared up his shoulders. “I can do the job. No matter what it takes.”
“Good.” Fox used the strip to further secure Greg’s arm to the chair they’d taped him to and then stepped back. “Here you go.”
“Right.”
Greg sat immobile, bound to the plastic lawn chair, mouth covered with tape, eyes darting between them. His nostrils flared as he looked up at Aidan, the fear in him obvious.
Aidan took another deep breath and asked himself the all important question: What Would Mercy Do?
Well, Mercy was a talker, friendly in his fury, and something about that strategy always got him results. That, or it was just because he was fucking huge and liked to use an ice pick.
Either way.
Aidan took a firm stance in front of Greg and ripped the duct tape from his mouth in one fast jerk that he hoped stung like hell. If Greg’s sharp hiss was anything to do by, mission accomplished.
“Okay, here’s how it’s gonna go,” Aidan said. “I’m not as patient as the guy who normally handles this kinda thing, and I don’t think it’s as fun as he does either. So. I ask you some questions, and you give me the answers. If you don’t, my friend here” – nod to Fox – “is gonna start driving roofing nails through your hands. Get it?”
The headlights provided them with a pool of cold light, but beyond, the cattle property was alive with night sounds and liquid shadows. The contrast turned Greg’s face to something pale and ghoulish. “You talk a better game since I was here last.” He tilted his head, an eloquent mention to their surroundings. “But talk is real cheap. And right now, we’ve got your friend.” He smiled, grimly. “You aren’t gonna do shit, Aidan.”
