Blood Victory
The last time he’d been blinded by emotion and ego, Luke Prescott had almost died. Now the same weakness could have endangered not just Charley but everything they’d built.
“Cole?”
He’s on his feet without remembering having stood. The concern in Noah’s voice behind him sounds unguarded, genuine. But in a strange mental twist, even though it only feels like something’s sitting on his chest, he turns his back to Noah as if he might be able to see the invisible source of whatever’s causing him pain, and for some reason that would be terribly embarrassing. He tells himself he’s still unexpectedly raw from their discussion of their own history. That’s why he’s a strange, unfamiliar blend of nauseated, dizzy, and breathless.
Is he having a heart attack? Is this what one feels like?
A sound comes from far away, a faint thud. He feels wood underneath his palms, realizes what he just heard were his own hands grabbing the windowsill to keep himself upright.
“Cole?”
Not just concern in Noah’s voice now. Outright alarm.
Has he been poisoned? Is that it?
He blinks, stares at the shuttered window before him. If it were a poison this sudden, it would be accelerating. But even amid the other symptoms, there remains a strange sense of being grounded. It’s as if some invader inside of him is trying to decide which body part to turn against him, and it’s tuning up everything as it prepares to make a choice—his head, his stomach, his chest. He’s dizzy, but his head isn’t throbbing. He can’t draw a deep breath, but he isn’t suffocating. There’s pain in his chest, but it’s not the thundering fire of a heart attack. He feels like he’s outside of his body, yet he knows exactly where he is.
“Cole!”
His knees go weak. The pressure against his stomach is Noah’s arm. The man’s righted him. Not just that, he’s holding Cole to keep him from crumpling to the floor.
This isn’t me, he tells himself. I don’t have feelings like this.
But on some deep intuitive level he can’t ignore, he knows what’s happening to him.
He’s having a panic attack. Full on, like the kind you see in the commercials for the drugs he sells but refuses to take. Because Noah’s right. He missed something. And again, it was big. And it’s a reminder that he’s a fraud. A spoiled little fraud playing at being a master of the universe with daddy’s fortune, with his company.
It’s an embrace now, what Noah’s giving him. Cole’s hands, which felt limp and lifeless a second before, are resting against Noah’s solid chest. Slowly, Noah cups one side of Cole’s face. Maybe he’s gazing into Cole’s eyes to see if he’s lost his mind. And maybe it’s calculated, manipulative tenderness, the way he’s gently cupping the side of Cole’s jaw in one hand. But Cole can’t bring himself to care. Not right now. Not when he’s this panicked. He needs his touch. Noah’s touch. Dylan’s touch. It doesn’t matter which one he is in this moment, because when they’re in each other’s arms, he’s both.
“Cole?” It’s a whisper now, but still a question.
“I can’t do this alone.”
Noah doesn’t gloat, just strokes Cole’s cheek gently as he gazes into his eyes. Maybe that’s what gives Cole the courage to say what he has to say next, even though he’s never been more terrified by anything he’s had to say in his life.
“I need you.”
At first, neither one of them reacts to the pounding against the door.
When it’s Noah who pulls away first, Cole realizes he’s still having trouble breathing, still feels like he’s moving through molasses. But relief is spreading through him, no doubt brought by just having said those last few words. By the time Noah opens the bedroom door to reveal Scott Durham on the other side, Cole’s walking toward his security director as if nothing’s amiss.
“There’s a problem,” Scott says. Given he’s had no reaction to the fact that Noah opened the door, Cole knows it must be serious.
“Charley?”
“Bailey,” Scott answers.
28
Highway 287
“Babe?”
Charlotte’s still seeing the road sign they passed a few minutes earlier.
AMARILLO 60 MILES.
At their current speed, they’ll be there in less than an hour.
Then one of them will have to hop in the back of the truck and start working Mattingly again. Will it be her? Maybe. If Cole remote doses her.
“Babe?” Luke says again.
“I’m listening.”
“Fifteen minutes.”
She knows exactly what he’s referring to, but she looks at him anyway. Sees he’s holding the stopwatch in the hand that’s not on the steering wheel.
“No judgments if . . .”
“If what?” she asks.
“If you want to bail. I mean, it’s not bailing, but you know what I mean. We might have other options.”
“Yeah, like we slow down, let them drop out of the sky and load Mattingly into some chopper, and a few weeks later Cole gives us a pat on the head, says it’s all been taken care of and I shouldn’t worry because his business partners got the best of him after all. But he never gives us Mother’s name, so we can’t be sure.”
“Not to play devil’s advocate here, but last time Cole really did take care of it. Like hard-core took care of it.”
“It’s not Cole I’m worried about it. It’s his billionaire buddies.”
“I know, but maybe Cole can do a better job of protecting us from them if we fall back.”
“Give in, you mean.”
“I’m not for it. I just don’t want you to think I’m against it if it’s what you need.”
“All that would require stopping, and if Cole’s under pressure to take Mattingly all the way back to Kansas to interrogate him, the other women might get tortured to death in the interim. If the best we can do is bring whoever he’s sent after us right to the doorstep of these assholes, then let’s do it.”
Luke nods, watches the road. “I just don’t want you to feel like you can’t change your mind.”
“Thank you.”
“And I sat here for about an hour trying to find a way to say that that didn’t make it sound like I was trying to make you change your mind, but I couldn’t come up with one so I just said it.”
“No judgments,” she says, hoping her repurposing of his phrase will lighten the mood.
It does.
For about ten seconds.
But the closer they get to the end of the window, the more she realizes how confident she’s been that Cole will remote dose her. Only now is she starting to think about what the hours ahead will be like if he doesn’t.
29
Kansas Command
The cavern from which Bailey Prescott travels cyberspace and protects their communications is so cramped with server towers and computers there’s barely anywhere for Cole, Noah, and Scott to stand.
Bailey doesn’t look up from the screen in front of him as they enter.
Sweat threads the sides of his face as he types and mouse-clicks like a speed freak. Thanks to all the heat coming off the surrounding equipment, the room’s air-conditioned to a constant winter chill. If Bailey’s sweating, that means whatever this is, it’s serious.