Chapter Thirty-Three

Prescott made his move the minute the asshat standing before him mentioned Henderson snapping Seth’s neck. It took less than ten seconds to break free of the meager restraints and liberate the moron of his Beretta. Six seconds to be exact. And another thirty seconds to dispose of the other assholes.

When he was done, they lay in a pile, eyes open, bullet holes in vital organs, throats slit and skulls bashed in for good measure. Not a single one of the other three had even unholstered his weapon.

Idiots.

And the biggest idiot of all… Henderson. He had no idea how much agony he was going to be in if he laid so much as one hand on Seth.

* * * * *

Staring back at Seth from behind the handgun was Franklin Henderson, Conrad Henderson’s father. Seth had seen him in the courtroom during the trial and on the news coverage talking about his son’s murder. He and his son had always had a tumultuous on-again, off-again relationship, but the older Henderson had been adamant about justice for his son’s death.

Henderson started forward. “I’ve waited a long time for this.” He took another step, and Seth matched it with his own backward move.

“What do you want?”

“Oh, I think you know.”

“How did you—” Seth swallowed down the rest of those words. There was only one way Henderson had gotten into the Haven and inside the apartment. Someone had helped him. “Prescott’s not here.”

“I know.” The man laughed, the eerie sound bouncing off the walls of the dark bedroom. “He will be soon enough. Then he’ll get to see the outcome of what I’m about to do. After that, I’ll be able to finally finish things with him. But first…” Henderson advanced again, creeping forward with resolve. The gun remained steadily aimed at Seth. “I’m afraid that I’m going to have to hurt you.” The look on his face indicated he meant far more than hurt him.

He was going to kill him.

Seth retreated until his back hit the wall behind him. He spotted the open safe room door more than six feet to his right. He needed to get back inside. If he made a run for it, would he have enough time to lock the door? Would the control panel inside even still be working? He darted a look over the man’s shoulder at the open bedroom door behind him.

Henderson stopped and shook his head. “No one’s coming. We’re alone. The guards and the owner of this place were taken care of.”

“What do you mean taken care of?”

“They’re alive. I’m not a complete monster, and I’m not about to complicate this entire thing and risk getting charged with murder.”

“Then you’re not gonna kill me?”

He grinned as if he had a plan to get away with that very thing. “I really am sorry about this, but I need to make him pay.”

As Seth talked, he started inching his way toward the safe room. “How is killing me going to help?” He needed a distraction to make it inside and get the door closed and locked. He needed to keep Henderson talking until he could come up with a plan.

When Henderson said nothing, Seth added, “How is hurting another innocent person going to make him pay? I didn’t do anything to deserve this.”

Henderson snorted with laughter. “I can see why my son picked you to take away from Prescott. He knew you were the least likely to put up a fight, or to know how to get away from him.” He jammed the revolver in the air in Seth’s direction. “Stop moving! Stand perfectly still, or I’ll make this really hurt, and then I’ll go take care of your dog, your boyfriend, everyone you care about. Screw the consequences. One way or another, I’m getting my revenge.”

Seth complied.

That seemed to appease Henderson. His expression lost some of its rage. “No matter what my boy did to you, he didn’t deserve to have his life snuffed out by that worthless piece of shit. Prescott will die for what he did, but first…” There was a manic, animated look in his eyes now. He was enjoying this. “I’m going to make him suffer. I’m going to take away someone who means a great deal to him. Just like he took my son from me.”

This guy was batshit crazy and full of grief. Which meant nothing was going to stop him. Seth thought about everyone who was going to grieve if Henderson followed through with his plan to kill him: Vargas, Dylan, Aaron, Toby, Ryder, Georgia, and Charlie.

Charlie.

He was still in the safe room. Probably sitting right where Seth had told him to stay. If he called Charlie to him, would that be enough of a distraction so he could take off and reach the bedroom door?

But Seth couldn’t bring himself to involve Charlie when all he could picture was Henderson emptying the gun in the dog’s direction.

Henderson was watching Seth with curiosity. Maybe he was all talk. Maybe now that he stood face to face with him, he couldn’t pull the trigger on an innocent man.

Then that demented grin was back. “Not many people matter to that man. Not his family. He has no friends. But you…” Henderson indicated Seth with a tip of the gun’s barrel. “You’re more than special to him.”

“No, I’m not. I always made him angry. He’d never risk himself to come after me. This is insane. You’re not going to gain anything by this. He won’t even know what you’ve done.”

The grin grew. Henderson lowered the revolver slightly as if it wasn’t time for that yet. He gestured to the doorway behind him. “My men found him right outside this building. He was going to get to you no matter what. And he’ll do it again as soon as I give the word and my men let him escape. But don’t worry. I’m not a barbarian like him. I’m not going to keep you locked in a cage and torture you for hours just for my own sick, perverted pleasure. I’ll make this quick. But I can’t use the gun.”

His voice sounded oddly remorseful. “I’m sorry about that. I have to make this look like it was Prescott who was responsible. They’ll think he killed you in a moment of rage when you wouldn’t go away with him, and then he turned his anger on me. Once he comes after me, I can shoot him in self-defense.”

“No one will believe you.”

“Yes, they will. The police will assume he came to my home to exact revenge for all the things I said about him during the trial. No one saw me here at the club. Before I leave, I’ll take care of the security footage. No one will know I was here. No one except…” He tucked the gun into his jacket pocket and pulled out a pair of driving gloves. He slipped them on. “You.”

Now was Seth’s chance. As Henderson rounded the bed near the safe room door, Seth took off the other way. He hopped onto the bed, crossed it in two strides, and jumped off the other side, then sped for the bedroom door.

Before he reached the threshold, Henderson seized him from behind. He swung him around and slammed him against the wall. The fierce impact reverberated all along Seth’s spine, and the force knocked the wind out of him. Pain shot through his lower back. His legs buckled, and he fell to the floor onto his hands and knees. Another jolt of pain struck his left kneecap.

Then a shot rang out. Seth flinched and fell sideways against the wall, but there was no additional pain, no burn of a bullet ripping through him.

Henderson landed with a thud beside Seth. The man’s face was pressed to the floor. He didn’t look like he was breathing.

Seth’s ears were ringing. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t turn away from the lifeless body next to him. He heard Dr. Arteaga’s voice in his head.

“I think there’s more we need to discuss, more you need to work through.”

A guttural laugh surged out of him as he kept staring at the dead man beside him. He sounded mad.

Then came a voice from above. “Are you okay?” A warm arm cradled Seth around the waist and helped him stand. He was pulled backward against a solid body. For several seconds, Seth settled his weight against him, wanting to feel safe, protected.

Only, everything about the touch was wrong.

He scrambled away and faced the man.

Gaping back at him was Prescott. His large frame towered over Seth, blocking the open doorway. He had a handgun at his side, dangling from his right hand.

Seth froze. The air in his lungs grew heavy. He heard Dr. Arteaga’s voice again.

“Rate your fear.”