Chapter 15
“Hello.” He answered his cell on the first ring even though he didn’t recognize the number. It had to be Zach calling from one of the phones at the hospital. “Did you see the news? Moretti killed himself. It’s over.” He gushed. He and Connor spent the last two hours watching every detail the news had to offer and then confirming each of those facts with Caleb, Connor’s contact at the prison.
“If you ever want to see your boyfriend alive again, you’ll do everything in your power to make sure Detective Connor Vanderwall believes you are on the phone with Dr. Meadows right now,” a voice warned. “You’ve been a disappointment your entire life, John. Don’t let one of your many shortcomings lead to the murder of your lover and his best friend. If you play this smart, you’ll be the only one hurt. If you play it dumb, you, Zachary, and Connor will all die. Which is it going to be, Noah? Are you going to be a good boy or a scaredy-cat? Smart or dumb?”
Noah’s gaze shot straight to Connor. He sat on the couch, his eyes still glued to the television as he watched the news unfold about Moretti’s suicide/murder. As if he sensed something wrong, his brown eyes lifted to find Noah watching him. He arched a brow and nodded to the phone in Noah’s hand.
It was only an instant in time, but Noah saw the train wreck of his life flash before his eyes. He saw Donovan Moretti threaten him as they led him away after the guilty verdict. He saw the look on his parents’ faces when they told the FBI they wanted to enter a separate witness protection program than that of their only son. He saw the four disastrous years that followed and how it led to him being locked in a prison created by his own mind. He knew what Moretti was capable of. It was time for him to finally pay the price for his sin against the crime family. He smiled calmly and said to Connor, “It’s Zach. I’m going to go to the bedroom to chat. You keep watching the news.”
He walked down the hall as the man on the other end of the phone laughed. Chills washed over him. How could he have not known? Once inside his bedroom, he closed the door and leaned against it. Tears trailed down his cheeks. “What do you want?”
“I’m going to tell you exactly what to do, Noah,” the voice answered with a laugh. “I need you to follow my instructions to perfection. If you do, Zachary and Connor won’t be harmed. If you don’t…well, you know what will happen. You’ve seen my work in the past, haven’t you?”
“Just tell me what you want,” Noah hissed. He listened for a few minutes and then broke in and argued, “If you’ve been watching me like I know you have, then you know I can’t leave this building without making a fucking scene. You can’t expect me to do what you’re suggesting.” The room started spinning wildly. He couldn’t do this…couldn’t do what he was asking of him. Could he go to Connor? Beg for help? Could Connor even get to Zach before it was too late? No, he’d known this would happen, planned for it. Why balk now? He had to find the courage to save the man he loved. He’d known it would all come down to this moment.
“Be a fucking man, Noah! For once in your miserable life, be a fucking man.” The man hissed into the phone, his frustration mounting. “I thought you loved Zach? That’s what you’ve whispered into his ear…I’ve heard you,” the voice said. “I’ve heard you moaning and whimpering like a bitch in heat when he’s been fucking you. Was that all an act, Noah? Were you tricking him or do you really care about the good doctor?”
“How did you…”
“I have listening devices all over your apartment, Noah,” the man answered with another laugh. “I’ve enjoyed listening to you beg him to fuck you almost as much as I enjoyed listening to you cry and start to come undone during those first months. I would have given anything to see your pretty face early on as the terror became wilder and wilder in your eyes. I could hear you begging for strength to keep going. It never came, though, did it, Noah? Strength has eluded you your entire life, so don’t expect to grow a pair of balls now. It wouldn’t be in Zach’s or Connor’s best interest.”
Listening devices meant he would hear Noah if he told Connor the truth.
“Why are you doing this to me?” he asked. “Why can’t you just let it go? I’m no danger to you now.”
“I’m doing it because I enjoy it, Noah. Now, do as you’re told, and remember, I’m listening to your every move and word. Fuck up, and Zach will be dead before Connor can make it to the elevator.”
“Fuck you,” Noah mumbled weakly. He didn’t have any other choices in front of him. Risking Zach’s and Connor’s lives was something he wouldn’t even consider. With robotic movements, he turned the doorknob and stepped out into the hallway. He knew what had to happen next. When he stepped into the living area, he quietly reached for Connor’s gun, lying innocently on a table in the hallway, and unlatched it from the holster. Connor’s back was to him and his eyes were still glued to the television on the wall. News footage of Donovan Moretti’s death still ran. Tears swam in Noah’s eyes.
“Oh…and Noah? Nine. Ten. No one will ever see you again.” With a laugh, the man disconnected the phone.
It all came down to this moment. Noah supposed he should have known the Moretti family would never leave him in peace. If this could have only happened before Zach came into his life, it wouldn’t have hurt so badly. He hadn’t really had anything to live for. Why now? Why when he was finally getting strong again? When he was finally getting a taste of living and loving again?
Because they know it will hurt more this way.
As a last-ditch effort to somehow let Zach know how he felt about him, Noah hid the gun behind his back and said, “I love you, Zach.”
Connor glanced back and saw him still on the phone, snickered, and then turned his attention back to the television.
“I loved you the first time I saw you. I’d convinced myself I wasn’t worth loving, but you proved me wrong. You made my heart feel again. Thank you for that,” he whispered.
As he said those final words, the sound of a cell phone ringing caused him to cringe. He stood directly behind Connor and saw Zach’s handsome face flash across Connor’s phone. Connor lifted the phone, saw who it was, and muttered, “What the…”
Noah slammed the gun against the side of Connor’s head before the man could finish his question. Connor, now unconscious, fell to the couch. The cell kept ringing—Zach’s face right there for Noah to see. Denala barked at him and then whimpered in confusion. She went to Connor and licked his face.
Noah quickly typed a text to Zach and, like the man had ordered, he dropped his cell onto the couch next to Connor.
I love you, Zach.
He kissed Denala’s wet nose and then walked out of his apartment. Silently, he touched his door when he stood outside in the hallway, wondering how in the world he was going to survive the last hour of his life without Zach there to be his strength.
*****
Zach stood in front of the television in the waiting room of the hospital, watching the news unfold about Moretti’s questionable suicide inside his prison cell. He should be feeling nothing but elation since the death of Moretti would mean Noah wouldn’t have to live in fear any longer, but instead, dread hung over him like a thick raincloud. He’d tried calling Connor three times. He’d tried calling Noah six times. He’d gotten an I love you text from Noah, but that had been the end of any communication between him and Noah or Connor. It wasn’t like either of them to not answer his calls.
Something was wrong.
Something bad was happening.
“Hey, Doc,” a voice interrupted him. “What’s up? I think they’re looking for you on the fifth floor.” Wayne looked him up and down and then frowned. “What’s going on, Zach? You look like you just saw a ghost.”
“Something’s wrong,” Zach murmured as he tried to figure out why the feeling of dread clung to him. He hit re-dial and listened to Noah’s cell phone ring. Nothing. “Noah won’t answer his cell.”
Wayne laughed. “Yeah, I hardly think that’s reason to panic, Doc. He’s probably working out at the gym or something. There’s no way Connor has left him unattended. Call Connor.”
“Connor’s not answering either.”
Wayne’s frown deepened. “What do you mean Connor’s not answering? He was watching over Noah today, wasn’t he? That’s what he told me.” Wayne pulled out his cell and dialed Connor’s number. Nothing.
“Hey, Wayne. You need a lift back to the station? I’m ready to hit the clock and go home,” his EMT partner called from across the waiting room. “Let’s go, man.” Wayne looked at his watch. Turning to Zach, he asked, “Do I need a ride to the station or are we going to check on Connor and Noah?”
“I’m sure I’m just overreacting,” Zach said as he dialed Noah’s cell again. With all the shit on the news about Moretti, he’d expected Noah or Connor to be ringing his cell out of his pocket. Instead, it was radio silence. I’m not overreacting.
“Listen, I know Connor and I just started dating, but he doesn’t seem like the type of guy to blow off his best friend, especially when he’s on VIP duty watching over best friend’s boyfriend.” He motioned for his partner to head on out without him. “Since your shift only started a few hours ago, let me run over to your apartment and check on things. I’m sure everything’s fine, but I know you’ll feel better when one of them calls you. I’ll taxi over and make sure everything’s good.”
“No, I’m going with you,” Zach told Wayne as he texted the other doctor on duty to let him know he was leaving. “Something isn’t right. I can feel it.”
Zach’s fear escalated to terror level on the ride over to his apartment. By the time he and Wayne stepped off the elevator onto his and Noah’s floor, his heart felt like it might pound right out of his chest. You’re overreacting. You’re overreacting. He kept chanting the message inside his head…knowing in his heart it wasn’t true.
He punched in the new code they’d set for Noah’s door last night and burst into the quiet apartment. He saw Denala first, pacing wildly and whimpering with each step. Then Connor, on Noah’s couch with blood dripping down the side of his face. His eyes were open, but Zach could tell he wasn’t completely alert. There was no sign of Noah anywhere. For a split second, Zach was frozen in time, the images in front of him engraved upon his heart. His best friend injured and looking at Zach like something horrible had happened. The love of his life nowhere to be seen.
They’d taken him. Moretti had Noah.
No, Moretti was dead.
What was happening? His gaze flickered down the hall. What would he find when he opened his bedroom door?
“Check on Conn,” he ordered Wayne. “Noah,” he screamed as he ran down the hall toward the bedroom they’d shared for the past month. Please be okay. Please be okay. The room was empty, only Noah’s sweet scent remaining. He checked the bathroom, even idiotically checked outside on the balcony. Nothing. Noah was gone.
He tore back down the hall to find Wayne putting pressure on Conn’s head wound with a white towel already bathed in crimson, the two of them speaking softly to each other. As soon as Zach saw Connor was all right, fury bubbled up inside him. Yes, he wanted his friend to be all right, but now that he was, he was going to kill him for not protecting Noah.
“Where. Is. Noah?” he roared. “Where is he, Conn? You were supposed to be protecting him. Where in the fuck is he?”
Wayne frowned in Zach’s direction. “Tone it down, Doc. Connor’s taken a pretty nasty blow to the head.” When he turned back to Connor, he whispered, “It’s okay, Connor. None of this is your fault.”
Connor looked to Zach and said, “I don’t know what happened. I don’t know…why…”
“You don’t know why what, Conn? You don’t know why you let somebody into the apartment and now Noah’s gone? You don’t know if he was alive or injured when they took him? You don’t know he’ll literally fall apart when they take him out of this building? You don’t know how you could’ve let me down when I asked you to protect the man I love? Which is it, Conn?” Zach wasn’t being fair. He just didn’t give a fuck—not with Noah missing.
“Hold up, Doc,” Wayne warned as he stood and put his body between Connor and Zach. “He’s injured. Back your shit down for a minute.” One of his hands massaged Connor’s shoulder and the other held the white towel in place against Connor’s head.
Zach ignored Wayne and yelled, “Where is he? Hell, Connor, Moretti killed himself in prison last night. Who came after Noah? Please tell me you saw something that will help us get him back.” The expression on Connor’s face ripped Zach’s heart out. “Please, Conn. Please!”
“I…I didn’t see anything, Zach,” Connor answered slowly. “I was watching the news, my cell started ringing, and then I got bashed on the side of the head.”
“How did they get in here? What happened? How could they just walk into a locked apartment? We changed the codes. Nobody should have been able to get inside.”
“Nobody came in here, Zach,” Connor whispered. “Noah hit me.”
Zach stood there, his mouth gaping open and his chest seizing up in pain. Noah hit Connor? Why would Noah hit Connor?
“You’re confused, Connor,” he finally said. “Noah wouldn’t hit you.” He looked around the empty apartment. Connor was mistaken. He had to be.
Noah’s gone.
To Connor, he said, “Tell me exactly what happened.” Connor had to tell him something…anything…that would help him get Noah back.
*****
His head felt funny, like it was crammed inside something way too small. His mouth was dry. The confusion that used to be so familiar but had vanished since Zach came into his life was back, making him wonder what happened. “Zach?” He tried to turn his head, but a wave of nausea made him stop all movement.
He heard himself whimper…and then heard someone laugh. Chills washed over him. Zach never laughed at him. Zach loved him.
Memories assaulted him: a phone call, a threat, bashing Connor on the head, leaving Zach’s apartment, the parking garage…
“Hey, kiddo,” the voice behind the laughter said. “Wakey. Wakey. Come on, Scaredy-Cat. Don’t make me wait forever. I’m a busy man these days. Thanks to you, I’ve got millions to spend and a crime family to run. Come on. Show me those pretty blue eyes of yours. I know you’re awake.”
The voice was just as soft and timid as Noah remembered. A smack across his face caused him to gasp in shock and pain.
“Open your fucking eyes, Noah. I don’t have all day to babysit you. Your stupid helplessness never ceases to amaze me.” The voice muttered in disgust but then quickly switched back over to the timid sweetness. “I mean, when I hand-picked you all those years ago, I had absolutely no idea how much fun you’d be.”
“Fuck off, Dante,” Noah whispered weakly. What had Dante given him? He couldn’t make his mind function properly. His arms wouldn’t move. His legs wouldn’t move. He couldn’t move anything.
“Oooohhh, aren’t you suddenly such a brave little boy? One minute, you can’t leave your apartment building, and the next, you think you’re going to fuck me?” Dante laughed. “I don’t think so, Scaredy-Cat. I don’t think so. I thought you were a pussy the first time I saw you at your daddy’s office, and trust me, doll, you’ve cemented my opinion of you over the past four years.”
Noah finally found the strength to open his eyes, and after a few blinks to orient himself with the lighting, he was finally able to focus on his surroundings. The room was small, not much bigger than how he would have imagined a dorm room. There weren’t any windows. He was lying on a mattress on the floor. Dante sat on a fold-up chair next to him, smiling like he’d won the lottery.
“Why?” he managed to ask. His tongue felt twice its normal size.
Dante leaned back and crossed his ankle over his knee. “Why? Hmm, let me see.” He scratched his chin. “There are so many reasons, Noah. Because you’re pretty and pretty boys always get the girl…or guy, in your case. Because you fluttered through that damned office like you didn’t have a worry in the world.” He shrugged. “I decided to make you worry.” He checked his watch, frowned, and then continued, “I needed someone to help me set up my father, and I wanted to give you something to worry about. Kinda like killing two birds with one stone.”
He reached down and picked up a bottle of water, took a sip, and then leaned over to pour some over Noah’s face. “Open up, love,” he urged. “Trust me, you’re gonna wish you had this water in a little bit.” He poured some more of it over Noah’s face and then set it back down onto the floor. “Let’s see. Where was I? Ah…yes, I remember. I was fucking with your head,” he joked like everything was just a game. “You found the proof I needed to get rid of my father for a while, and I sincerely appreciated that, Noah. The way you were willing to take the fall, piss off the Moretti family like that? It was so noble. Of course, I, being the perfect son, had to step in and take over my father’s business while he languished away in prison.”
Noah lay there, his eyes trained on Dante, and listened to the other man discuss ruining his life like he was telling him the weekly forecast. There wasn’t an inkling of remorse, empathy, or sympathy in Dante’s eyes. What the bastard obviously didn’t know was he was beginning to get the feeling back in his fingers and toes. If he could keep him talking for just a bit longer, he would snap the fucker’s neck like a twig. He could do it. Dante was still tall and slender, waif-like in appearance.
“You, Noah, were a loose end needing to be snipped off. I battled on how to handle you. I truly did. I don’t want you to spend the last days of your life worrying if you were an easy kill or not.” His cold eyes darkened and his smile widened. “I’d intended to simply kill you as soon as the FBI got you settled in with your new identity.” He burst out laughing. “John Doe? How totally idiotic was that? I nearly died laughing when I heard the name they’d given you, but then again, I suppose it did fit at the time. Nobody cared about you. There wasn’t one single person left in the world giving a fuck about what happened to John Doe. Well, except me. I’ve always cared, Noah. I take great pride in how I handle my business. I only had the length of my father’s sentence, six short years, to prove to the family I was capable of taking over my father’s empire. Every move I made had to be nothing short of perfection.”
Noah wondered how he could have ever thought Dante wasn’t pure evil. The bastard was worse than his father. Hell, if the truth be known, Dante was probably behind his father’s suicide.
“Your death was meant to solidify to the family, and the cartel, that I indeed possessed the balls to step up and take over.” He laughed again, softly this time. “Oh, the things I planned. Dismemberment. Buried alive. Fed to wild dogs. Drawn and quartered. The possibilities were endless,” he gushed. “But then, Noah, you had to, once again, step up to the plate and become one of my biggest victories. Night after night, I listened to you in that apartment and fantasized about how I would kill you, but then I noticed something. You were absolutely falling apart right in front of me. You were fucking helpless, Scaredy-Cat. Afraid of your own shadow. As I listened, your mental capacities worsened with every passing day and a beautiful plan formed in my head. I would make your suffering last for as long as possible, for your torture and my entertainment. I used my connections in the FBI to hook you up with a doctor friend of mine and…well, the rest is history, right? He gave you a lovely cocktail of drugs that shoved you right over the edge. After that, all I had to do was sit back and enjoy the show.” He leaned over to whisper, “Did you know that I found you so entertaining that I had to add cameras to your apartment? Listening just wasn’t enough. I’ve even shown videos of you at our family dinners. You, huddled in a corner, tears streaking your face as you stared at your apartment door? You have no idea how much laughter you’ve brought my family over the past four years. Every time we have a family gathering, the kids beg to see a video of the crazy boy.” He sat back and shook his head. “Big laughs. Fun times.”
Noah didn’t really give a fuck whether he’d been entertainment for the Moretti family over the years. All he cared about was killing Dante and getting back to Zach. He held no doubts Dante would order Zach’s and Connor’s deaths to tie things up…and for his entertainment, of course.
“Everything was going beautifully until the handsome, stud muffin doctor moved in next door. He really fucked with my family fun, and I do not appreciate that, Noah.” He smirked again. “Sure, I enjoyed watching him fuck your ass, but I didn’t enjoy him ruining all my plans. Once I saw he possessed the ability to put you back together again, I knew fun times were over.”
He stood and started digging around in his pocket. Noah panicked. He wasn’t ready yet. He couldn’t move…not yet. His chest constricted and a panic attack edged its way to the surface. “Please, don’t, Dante.” He gasped. “Don’t hurt Zach. He doesn’t know anything,” he lied.
“I’ve got video feed in your apartment, Noah. I know how much Zach and Connor know about my family.” He pulled a needle out of his jacket and squatted next to Noah. “I’m going to give you another dose. It should help with the pussy attack barreling down on you right now.”
Noah tried to move, tried to get away, but his body wouldn’t follow commands. The needle plunged into his neck.
“Hey, before you drift away to sleepy land, I need to explain some things to you,” Dante said quickly. He motioned around the small room with his hand. “This is your tomb, Noah. Once I leave and they seal up the door, there’ll be no escape. You can scream all you want, but I’ve made certain it’s completely soundproof. I’ve researched it, and it should take you at least three days to die…maybe four if you’re strong.” He laughed again and added, “But we both know that isn’t the case, don’t we? Once I know for certain you’re dead, I’ll drop some breadcrumbs so Zach can find you. Once I feel like he’s suffered enough, I’ll kill him, Connor, and Connor’s current lover.”
Noah saw Dante wink at him, but he was fading fast. He could barely hold onto any of Dante’s words, much less comprehend what he was saying.
“I’m leaving you some paper and a pencil. I suggest you use it to let Zach know how much you loved him and how very sorry you are for involving him in your train wreck of a life.” He stood, grinned, and said, “Ta-ta, Scaredy-Cat. Have fun.”
Dante’s smiling face was the last thing Noah saw, and that terrible laughter, the last thing he heard before the darkness swept him away.
*****
“I didn’t call Noah, Conn. It wasn’t me he was on the phone with,” Zach said quietly.
“What do you mean it wasn’t you on the phone? He called you by name, Zach. Said he loved you.” Connor frowned in confusion. “Wait. I remember something. He was standing behind me, talking to you, when my cell started ringing. When I looked down, it was your name flashing across the screen. I…I guess that’s why he hit me. Because I knew the person he was talking to couldn’t be you if it was you calling me.”
“Why would Noah hurt you? There’s no reason for him to want to hurt you,” Zach whispered.
“Whoever was on the other end of his call made him do it, Zach. That must be it,” Connor said. “But who? Moretti is dead. Who else would want to hurt Noah?”
“Are you sure he’s dead? Maybe that’s a lie they’re feeding the media because he’s escaped or something.”
“No, he’s dead. I already called Caleb, and he confirmed Donovan’s dead. It was Moretti. He told me it looked like a suicide, but they’re still investigating. They think maybe he was murdered.”
Zach’s heart ached in agony, knowing how much terror Noah felt at the moment. He wouldn’t let Noah down. He couldn’t let Noah down. Like a fucking coward, he hadn’t been able to tell Noah how he truly felt. Now…he might never get the chance.
“Maybe the FBI moved him? Would they do that if there’s a question about Moretti being murdered?” Zach asked quickly. “They would do something like that, wouldn’t they?” Cameron could have been lying to them last night, tricking them into letting their guard down so the FBI could rush in and take Noah away.
“I…guess. I don’t know. Shit, no they wouldn’t call him and make him pretend to be talking to you and then knock me senseless. That isn’t FBI style. It’s something else, Zach.” His eyes begged Zach to forgive him. “It’s something bad.”
“Hey,” Wayne interrupted. “Don’t go there. Both of you need to keep a clear mind to work through this. Noah is depending on you guys…on us. We can do this.” To Connor, he said, “Do you have any contacts with the FBI? Does anybody know who Noah’s liaison with the FBI was?”
Zach and Connor frowned at the same time. Connor clenched his jaw, but Zach didn’t hold anything back. “What the fuck do you know about liaisons with the FBI, Wayne?” Suspicion curdled in Zach’s gut. His mistrust of Wayne exploded to a dangerous level.
“Stop, Doc,” Wayne said gently. “I know what you’re doing, and I understand why you’re doing it. You’re wrong, though. How I know anything about the FBI, liaisons, and witness protection has nothing to do with your Noah. I have my own shit to deal with, but that doesn’t mean I can’t help you with yours.”
“Why should I believe you?” Zach demanded. “You suddenly appear in my life, and the next thing I know, Noah’s missing. Give me a break here, Wayne. What else could I think was going on?”
“No,” Wayne answered quietly. “You suddenly appeared in my life, Doc. I lived here eight months before you showed up. You’re also wasting time we could be spending on trying to figure out where Noah is.” He looked down at Connor. “You both need to figure out whether you’re going to trust me or not. If you can’t, I’ll leave. I sure the fuck don’t want to be a distraction.”
The room fell silent and Wayne turned away. Connor stopped him by catching Wayne’s hand in his own. “Zach’s scared, babe. I’m scared. He had to ask the question. You and I have already had this discussion and I trust you. You know this.”
“I understand why Zach doesn’t trust me,” Wayne answered. “I also understand if you all want me to go.”
“No. Stay. You’re right, though—we are wasting time. Time Noah doesn’t have,” Zach finally agreed. “Hey! How about Mack in security? Can you call him, Conn? He would let us review the security footage, wouldn’t he?”
Two hours later, Zach felt like he’d blown through the first four stages of grief, but since he refused the final stage, acceptance, he’d started all over again. As he rode in the backseat of Connor’s truck, he knew he was firmly lodged back in the denial stage again. They were on their way to Cameron’s penthouse. Connor was going to demand answers about Noah and, in his words, he would get them one way or another. Zach, though his heart knew there was a zero possibility of it being true, had allowed the denial stage to convince him Noah might be with Cameron.
Maybe the FBI was in the process of moving him, and he’d be with Cameron, ready for transfer to a safe place.
Maybe they’d pulled him out until the investigation into Moretti’s death was completed?
Maybe he’d been miraculously cured from his social phobia and decided to go for a fucking walkabout…after knocking Connor unconscious.
Shit, he was firmly back in the anger stage again.
“Are you sure about the address, Conn?” he asked for the tenth time. “Are we almost there? He’s got to be there. There’s nowhere else.”
“Yes, I’m sure about the address. My friend at the DA’s office gave it to me. We’re about forty-two seconds away from being there. Try to stay calm, Zach. You know I’m not going to let anything happen to Noah.” He took a deep breath that was shaky and weak. “I won’t fuck up again.”
“You didn’t fuck up, Conn. I know that. Hell, I knew it when I said all that shit back in the apartment.” Zach scraped his hands over his face and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m just scared. I…I never told him I loved him,” he whispered, mostly to himself, but Wayne and Connor no doubt heard his shame. “He gave me everything, and I couldn’t give him the one thing he wanted.” Tears threatened to fall. Again.
They’d fallen like raindrops when they’d knocked on the door to the security office where Mack was always stationed. Where Mack used to be stationed. When no one answered the knock, they’d barged right in and found Mack sitting in front of the countless television screens in front of him. His throat slit from ear to ear. His empty eyes unfocused on the blank screens Zach and Connor had hoped would give them answers to Noah’s disappearance. While they’d waited for the police to get there, Zach had sat in the corner of the room, crying like a baby, while Connor busied himself by reviewing the security tapes. Apparently, they’d been erased and then a virus had been uploaded to corrupt the whole security system, including the backup drive.
With that door slammed in their faces, they’d headed out to confront Cameron. The asshole didn’t come across as capable of pulling off something like this, but then the whole lazy, incompetent persona might have been faked to lure them into dropping their guard around him.
“Noah told me he loved me exactly six times. I never told him once.” Zach could remember each and every damned time. He could also remember the fucking fear that gripped his heart and soul the moment he’d tried to open his mouth and tell Noah he felt the exact same way. Now he might never get the chance.
“Noah knows you love him, Zach,” Connor said quietly.
“Sure, he does,” Zach mumbled. Of course, Connor would say what Zach needed to hear right now, anything to talk him off the ledge.
“What the fuck?” Wayne muttered as he craned his neck in every direction. “What’s going on?”
Three police cars with flashing lights, an ambulance, and a fire truck sat in the parking lot of Cameron’s apartment building. Yellow tape blocked anyone from getting close, and a cop stood outside the tape signaling folks to keep moving. Zach’s heart plummeted straight into the pit of his stomach. Connor drove up to where the cop waved wildly for him to move on, rolled down his window, and motioned the cop over.
“Listen, buddy. You need to keep moving. This is a crime…” Surprise etched across the cop’s face, but then he quickly moved to step up to Connor’s window. “Sorry, Detective. I didn’t know it was you. Did you get called in on this one?”
“Nah, just on my way to visit an acquaintance living here. What happened?”
The street cop looked worriedly at Wayne and then at Zach sitting in the back. “Is it, uh, okay to talk?”
Zach contemplated reaching through the open window and ripping the guy’s head off. Police protocol be damned, he needed to get to Cameron’s apartment. He needed to get to Noah.
“Yeah,” Connor answered quickly. “What’s going on?”
“Got a call to 911 about a jumper, but I think it’s quickly escalated to something else.” He glanced over in the direction of the parking lot and nodded to two black SUVs sitting there. “Not sure what happened to tip the PD off it might be more than a suicide, but the next thing you know, the FBI is on site.” He rolled his eyes and added, “Acting like almighty pricks. In my opinion, they’re definitely living up to their negative reputations. Strolling around, barking orders at our men like they don’t have the God-given sense to wipe their own asses.”
Jumper? There was a jumper? FBI on site? Zach’s stomach started rolling again and, just like that, he shifted from stage two denial to stage three anger. Was it the same fucking FBI entrusted to keep Noah safe from the Moretti family? Well, they’d done a fine fucking job at that.
So did I.
The voice inside his head mocked him. He’d let Noah down. Him…only him. First, he’d blamed Connor and now the FBI. The only person to blame was him, because he was the one who loved Noah. He was the one Noah depended on to keep him safe.
“Got a name on the jumper?” Connor asked quietly as he scanned the parking lot and then up to the top floor of the complex where curtains fluttered in the wind.
“Yeah,” the cop answered, lowering his voice. “He worked for the DA’s office. I guess that’s what all the hoopla’s about. His name was Cameron Maverick. I’d run into him a couple of times—real dick, but didn’t deserve this.” He waved his arm. “Whatever this turns out to be.”
Cameron was dead. Just like that, his last link to Noah had vanished.
“Was he alone in his apartment?”
The cop’s eyes narrowed. “Well, as far as anybody is saying, he was alone. You know him, Detective?”
“Yeah, that’s who I was coming to visit. He’s a friend of a friend.” Connor’s gaze shifted to meet Zach’s in the mirror. “Can you get me into the parking lot? I need to have a conversation with those FBI guys,” Connor said.
Wayne whispered a curse, but kept his eyes glued to the action going on around them.
“Uh…yeah, definitely. If you knew the guy, you should talk to them. Give me a second.”
With that, he jogged toward the lot, dipped down to slide under the police tape, and went straight over to two men in suits. They screamed FBI. This was bad. This was really bad.
“The Moretti family is cleaning up,” Zach said. “I don’t get it, with the patriarch dead just last night, but this is a cleanup if I’ve ever seen one.”
Connor looked at Wayne and said, “You’re white as a sheet, man. It makes me sick to my stomach to ask this, and I don’t want you pissed at me, but do you need to pull a disappearing act?”
Connor was insinuating Wayne might be somebody the FBI didn’t need to see. Zach didn’t need to attend the police academy to recognize what was going on.
Wayne turned sad eyes on Connor. “Yeah, that would be for the best.” He glanced toward Zach sitting in the back seat and then to Connor again. “I’m not the bad guy. I promise.”
“I don’t think you are,” Connor answered quietly. “Please don’t let me be wrong.”
“I won’t let you down,” Wayne answered, slid out of the truck, and disappeared into the crowd of lookie-loos.
“What’s going on, Conn? Why do you think we can trust him?” Zach demanded. “I know you’re fucking him, but he’s…” Zach took a deep breath and finished with, “His reactions aren’t normal. Who would be afraid of the FBI seeing them? A criminal—that’s who. Who are criminals, Conn? The Moretti family—that’s who.”
“It’s more than just a fuck, Zach. There’s something between us, something special. I don’t know how I know this, but we can trust Wayne.”
“You trust Wayne,” Zach practically snarled. “I’ll stick with just trusting you.”
Before Connor could argue or convince him Wayne was a good guy, the cop moved the yellow tape and motioned for them to enter the parking lot. The two FBI men stood off to the side, their arms crossed over their chests, and their eyes wary.
“What are you going to tell them?” Zach asked. “Do you trust them, too?” He told himself he didn’t mean to keep being an ass, but he still didn’t put forth any effort to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.
“I’m going to tell them the truth, Zach. As for the trust… I’ll trust them until they give me a reason not to. The bottom line is we need to know what they know.” He parked the truck and looked at the two men waiting on him. “As if they’ll tell us anything,” he grumbled as he unbuckled. “Stay in the truck, Zach. I don’t need you losing your cool with the FBI.”
Zach ignored him and climbed out of the truck.