Chapter Thirty-Two

Vargas kept his arms locked around Seth as he quickly filled him in on Prescott’s escape. Then he hit speed dial on his phone to reach Dylan. The call went directly to voice mail. Without letting go of Seth, Vargas dialed another number. Tucker answered immediately.

“What’s up?”

“Prescott’s escaped. Cops haven’t caught him yet. Can you send some people to secure Blake, Ollie, and Foster?”

“I’m on it. What about the others?”

“Walter and I are taking care of it. Just make sure—”

“I’ll let you know when they’re safe.”

“Thanks.” He hung up, knowing he could count on Tucker.

Seth pulled back right as Vargas’s phone rang again. It was Walter.

“I’ve got Kevin and more info. Prescott was spotted on several traffic cameras. He’s in a van on the interstate heading south away from the city.”

“Are they sending any police protection for his victims?”

“Not unless there’s evidence he’s doubled back. They don’t think he’ll risk coming after anyone. They’re focusing their efforts on intercepting him on the highway. They’re putting up roadblocks at the exits, setting up a perimeter. We can come down to the station to wait for news.”

“And Aaron?”

“I talked to him. He’s waiting at a neighbor’s until we get there. We’re on our way now. You still heading to Dylan?”

“Yes.” Every part of Vargas was screaming at him to stay with Seth and keep him safe, but he had to ensure that Dylan was okay. If Prescott took the time to go after any of them, it would be Seth, which meant he’d be headed to the apartment where Dylan was alone. He couldn’t let him take Dylan away. They might never find him again. Vargas would never be able to live with himself if something happened to him. He had to do this, and he had to get going now.

Walter spoke again. “Once I’ve got Aaron, we’ll meet you at the police station downtown. Hopefully they’ll know more by then.”

“Got it. We’ll see you there.” Vargas hung up.

“Dylan?” Seth asked.

“His phone’s off.”

“Oh God.” Seth covered his mouth with a hand.

“It doesn’t mean anything. You said he goes to the movies by himself a lot.” He relayed what Walter had said about Prescott heading out of town. “Don’t worry. I’ll find Dylan.”

“Okay.” Except Seth’s breathing was growing more rapid. “Okay,” he repeated.

“I’ve gotta get going. Come on.” Vargas motioned for Seth to come with him farther into the apartment and down the hall, Charlie trotting after them. Vargas ducked into the guest room. At the safe room door, he pulled the panel down.

“What are you doing?” Seth asked. “I thought we were going to get Dylan.” He grabbed Vargas by the arm and tried to spin him around, but Vargas was a man on a mission.

Once the safe room door was open, he turned to Seth. “I’m going for Dylan. You’re getting in here.”

Seth took a step back. “No.”

“Dylan’s going to be okay. Prescott’s not gonna risk his chance at freedom to come after you guys. He’s heading out of the state.”

Seth repeatedly shook his head. “He won’t leave. He won’t. Not without me.” He shot a look toward the open bedroom doorway. “Which means he’ll go to the apartment first.”

“He doesn’t know which apartment you guys moved to.”

“He’ll figure it out. He’ll wait there for me. Even if Dylan’s not home now, he could walk in on Prescott.” Seth started for the door. “We have to warn him.”

“No!” Vargas shot past Seth and got in his way. “You’re getting in the safe room. I’ll bring Dylan back here.”

“I’m going with you.”

“No.”

“We don’t have time for this. You were right. Prescott won’t want to risk getting caught. He’s not going to take the time to come after all of us. But he will come for me.”

Vargas jabbed an arm toward the safe room door. “That’s why you’re getting in there.”

“What if they don’t catch him? You want me to stay in there forever?”

“The cops will find Prescott, and if they don’t, I’ll get Tucker and his team on it. I won’t stop until we find him and you’re safe again. Now get in there so I can go make sure Dylan’s all right.” He went for Seth’s arm.

Seth jerked away from him. “I need to do this, Vargas. I have to see Dylan.”

“You will. As soon as I get back here. Now get inside.”

“No.” Seth moved farther away from him.

Vargas pictured Prescott attacking Seth, drugging him, and taking off with him, then locking him away somewhere, doing the most horrible things to him, and Seth never getting free again.

“What if he comes for me, takes me away again, and no one ever finds me?”

Determination surging through him, Vargas grasped Seth’s arm. He tugged him toward the safe room door, hoping like hell he wasn’t hurting him. “I am not letting anything else happen to you.”

“Vargas, stop!”

“Not ever again.”

“Prescott’s not going to look for me here. It’s Dylan who’s in danger.” Seth was really fighting him now. “Vargas, let go of me. I’m going with you.” He sounded desperate, but there was no way Vargas was letting him leave the club. He hauled Seth into the safe room.

“Please don’t do this. Please, Vargas.”

“I have to.” He checked that the interior panel was off, which he expected since he hadn’t had the safe room company in to repair it yet. He led Seth to the back wall and kicked the pillows off the bench and onto the floor. He called out, “Charlie, come.” The dog darted into the room and sat beside them. “Stay.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m sorry.” Vargas shot a quick glance at Seth’s face. There were tears in his eyes.

He shouldn’t have looked. Because now was the hardest part.

He seized Seth by the upper arms and dropped a kiss on his lips. “I love you. Please don’t forget that.” He scooped Seth up so he was cradling him like a child. He lowered him down, trying to be careful but also get this done as fast as he could. He just had to hope that leaving him on the floor like that would buy him the time he needed to get the door sealed and the lock engaged. Getting off the floor still took Seth more time than typical for someone his age.

Without a look back, Vargas made his way out of the safe room. He closed the door and cranked the handle, then scanned his thumb and added the code to engage the lock. The secondary set of bolts slid into place. The door was secure.

He’d sufficiently done what he’d sworn he never would: he’d taken away Seth’s right to make his own decisions, to control his own life.

Even though Vargas knew no other way right then, his heart sank. Would he ever forgive himself for this? Would Seth? Or had he just sealed their fate with the close of that door?

He couldn’t think about that now. All that mattered was keeping Seth and Dylan and the others safe. Even if that meant he’d lose Seth from his life in the end.

He pressed his forehead to the cold steel surface. “I’m sorry.” Then he hightailed it across the room. On his way to the apartment door, he snatched his keys off the hall table and checked his pocket for his phone. He swung the door open, and Ian turned to face him.

“Seth’s in the safe room. Do not leave this door for any reason.” He pointed at Ian for emphasis. “No one—and I mean no one—gets inside this apartment.”

“You got it.”

Vargas took off for the stairs. He considered getting one of the guards to go with him in case he needed the help, but with the club closed and his recent reduction in staff, there weren’t as many guys on duty as there would’ve been that night had he kept the place open. Even one less person protecting Seth wasn’t an option.

He kept trying to tell himself what he’d said to Seth was the truth, that Prescott was already long gone. The man had one shot at staying free: to run as far and as fast as he could. Only Vargas’s gut told him Seth was right. Prescott would want to come for him. No matter what.

Vargas had to get to Dylan, and then he’d come right back for Seth.

He reached his private entrance at the back of the club and gave the guard, who was there now because of the lockdown, a version of the instructions he’d given to Ian. Then he got moving for the parking lot as he redialed Dylan’s number. It went straight to voice mail again. This time he left a message, telling him that Prescott escaped and that Dylan needed to get out of the apartment, find someone he trusted to come with him, and get to the club or the closest police station. That finished, Vargas slid the phone into his pocket and unlocked his SUV.

As he grabbed the door handle, he felt a sharp prick on the back of his neck. He ran a hand over his skin. There was something sticking out. He pulled it free and took a look. Lying in his palm was some kind of small dart-like syringe.

“Oh God, no.”

All at once his head spun. His eyelids grew heavy, and he felt like he might vomit.

He scrambled for his phone, managing to get it out of his pocket right as he stumbled sideways and slammed his shoulder into the driver’s side door. The phone slipped in his limp grip. He fumbled with it and then watched through blurred vision as the cell crashed to the pavement.

Breathing deep through his nose, he summoned his last bit of energy and lunged for the phone. He landed on his side on the asphalt with a thump.

He clawed at the phone, trying to drag it closer. A futile attempt. He could no longer move his hand. The last thing he heard before he lost consciousness was deliberate footsteps coming up behind him.

And his last thought was of Seth. Was this how frightened and helpless he’d felt that night he’d been taken from the Haven?

Although, right then, it wasn’t for himself that Vargas was terrified.

* * * * *

Seth paced the length of the safe room. With each turn, he threw a hard glare at the closed steel door. A few minutes earlier when he’d first gotten up from the floor, he’d checked the control panel and found it still wasn’t working. He’d also tried the spring-loaded release on the door, but like the last time, that offered no escape.

Now his body was vibrating with anger. Add to that his missing cane, and each step became more and more shaky. Charlie was seated near the door, watching him pace.

Seth knew Vargas was panicked. The thought of something else happening to him or the others scared him beyond words. But weren’t they supposed to confront things together, no matter what?

Instead, Seth was alone.

Alone and facing the one thing he feared more than anything.

Prescott was coming for him. It didn’t matter what the cops said or what anyone else believed. Seth knew the truth. Prescott would not give up until he found him. Seth was not about to sit by and do nothing while Dylan was in danger because of him.

No. Because of that monster.

He balled his hands into fists and went to the control panel, checking it again to be sure it hadn’t miraculously turned on. It hadn’t. He slammed the side of his fist against the door. He wanted to pound on the steel surface until the door opened, until he saw Dylan and Aaron and Kevin all safe before him. Until he knew Vargas hadn’t done something stupid and gotten hurt. Or worse.

He spun around and scanned the room, spotting the cabinet with the plastic tubs inside.

The emergency cell phone.

He crossed the room to the storage containers and lowered to the floor. Tugging open the first tub, he found the phone lying on top where they’d left it when they’d been locked in there before. He swiped it up and hit the power button. The battery was dead. They must’ve left it on after they’d called for help. He dug through the tubs but couldn’t find a charger.

“Fuck!” He chucked the phone across the room, and it bounced off the far wall. Charlie watched the phone land on the carpeted floor beside him, then studied Seth again, his head tilted.

Seth sat back on his heels. “Okay, think.” The control panel. He had to find a way to repair it and get out of there.

As if he’d called the dog, Charlie trotted over to him, and Seth patted his back as he stared across the room at the panel’s blank screen. There was power to the room, so why not the panel? The outside panel and the system that locked the door were obviously still functioning. He got up.

The panel on this side of the door didn’t look as tamper-proof as he remembered the one on the outside appearing. Which made sense. These rooms were designed to keep people from breaking in, not the other way around. When the panel was raised to its highest point, he could access the four screws underneath. He checked what size and type of screwdriver he’d need.

He rummaged through the plastic tubs again, hoping to find a tool kit they’d overlooked last time. There was nothing. On his tiptoes, he reached up and searched the top shelf above the tubs. A thin plastic case lay in the back. He pulled it down and unsnapped the lid. Bingo. He moved several tools out of the way until he found a small enough screwdriver that looked like it might work. He dug it out and went to the panel. What was the worst that could happen?

He didn’t let that thought linger. He got to work. It was awkward using the screwdriver at that angle. Added to that, Charlie kept headbutting his leg. Seth encouraged the dog back to the far side of the room, told him to sit and stay, and then returned to the panel.

He managed to remove all four screws. Then he detached the back cover, revealing an array of wires and computer components. He found what he thought might be a wire supplying power to the circuits. He wiggled the wire but nothing happened. He tried again. Still nothing. “Shit.” He tested a few of the other wires but got nowhere.

This was pointless. What’d he know about this kind of thing?

He took a step back. He couldn’t come up with anything else to try.

“Fuck it.” He charged forward and gave the first wire another wiggle. He heard the faint sound of the system turning on. Twenty seconds later the screen lit up, displaying the biometric fingerprint scanner. Very carefully, so he didn’t disrupt the cable and shut the whole thing off again, he scanned his thumb, entered the code, and pressed the release button.

There was a metallic snap as the bolts on the door retracted. He reached for the handle and turned, releasing the other set of bolts. He pushed the door open.

The bedroom outside was empty. The lights were off, but they’d been that way earlier. Everything seemed normal, as if his entire world hadn’t just been upended with one phone call.

He charged for the nightstand across the room where he’d left his cell phone before his walk, but halfway there he stopped dead in his tracks. The phone was gone. The alarm clock on the nightstand was off, and there was an odd glow from the hall that seemed harsher than the regular lighting in the apartment, like an emergency spotlight. Something was wrong.

He hurried to the nightstand and flipped on the lamp but nothing happened.

“The power’s out,” came an eerily familiar voice from across the room.

Seth whirled around.

A large frame blocked the bedroom doorway, the man’s face in shadows. He held a revolver. The metal of the gun glinted in the light seeping in around his looming figure.

Only… it wasn’t Prescott holding the gun.