Chapter Thirty-Four

Seth fell back a step. “No.”

Prescott nodded. “It’s me.”

Even in the darkened room, Seth could see the scar on Prescott’s neck from where Dylan had stabbed him, a reminder of what the man was capable of surviving through.

Prescott searched Seth’s face. “Are you okay? I’ve been so worried about you ever since I saw you all beat up like that, lying on that table downstairs. I made him pay for hurting you.” He looked down at the older Henderson’s body. “I’ll make them all pay.” He focused on Seth again, and his expression softened as if he’d just read something in his face. “I would never hurt you like they did.” Prescott let the gun slip from his fingers. It fell onto Henderson’s lower legs. Too far out of Seth’s reach. He’d never get to it in time.

Prescott held out a hand. “We can be together now. We can go away like we planned.”

Something inside Seth snapped. Like a former piece of himself had slid into its proper place. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

He wanted to dive across the empty space between them and fire a fist at the center of Prescott’s face, claw at his flesh, but he had to be smart about this. He needed a weapon. “I’m not letting you hurt me ever again. I’m not letting you take my life from me.” Seth lunged for the nightstand and grabbed the lamp. He didn’t hesitate. He spun and swung in one motion, aiming for Prescott’s head.

Prescott blocked the hit. He clasped on to one of Seth’s wrists and wrenched him around. He got a grip on Seth’s other arm and jerked him backward so Seth was plastered to his chest again, Prescott’s arm squeezing him around the middle. The touch was cold, savage, momentarily sending Seth surging back to that dungeon he’d been held in and all the unspeakable things Prescott had done to him.

He wouldn’t let himself linger there. He pushed the nightmare from his mind and fought the man restraining him with everything he had.

“Put it down.” Prescott growled the words as he twisted Seth’s wrist. Seth cried out and dropped the lamp, but he wasn’t about to give in. He struggled, flailing from side to side, whipping his weight against Prescott.

A low snarling sound came from behind them. Prescott rotated them as one toward the source. Charlie stood there, hunched low, teeth bared, ready to attack.

Holding on to Seth tighter, Prescott spoke against his ear. “Tell him to back off, and I’ll let him come with us.”

“No!” Seth threw his head back, catching Prescott in the chin. His head instantly throbbed, but the move did nothing to dislodge the larger man.

“You were always my good boy. Did whatever you were told. What happened to you?”

“I’m not afraid of you anymore.” Seth wriggled in the man’s arms, and Prescott clasped on to him tighter. That had Charlie growling again in warning.

“Call him off.”

Over his shoulder Seth spat out, “Fuck you.” He elbowed Prescott in the gut. The man groaned and bent forward, loosening his grip right as Charlie attacked. The dog sank his teeth into Prescott’s calf, and Seth finally wrenched free. He whirled around and kicked him in the crotch. That had Prescott crying out in pain as he collapsed to the floor on his knees.

Charlie didn’t let up on the bite. He thrashed his head from side to side and sank his teeth in deeper.

Prescott kicked at the air, trying to dislodge Charlie with no success.

Seth went for the discarded lamp, lifted it over his head, and swung the lamp down with as much force as he could manage. Prescott raised an arm and ducked but not quickly enough. The lamp hit him square in the forehead, clearly disorienting him. Seth let go of the lamp and launched for the door. He shot out into the hall, nearly slamming into the opposite wall before making the turn. “Come, Charlie.”

The dog sprinted to him, and they took off. He should’ve let Charlie keep attacking Prescott so he had more time to get away, but since the man no longer had Seth in his clenches, chances were that Charlie would be less inclined to fight. Prescott might retrieve the gun from where he’d dropped it and shoot Charlie to get him out of the way. Nothing was happening to him, to either of them.

The gun.

Seth stopped and threw a look back down the hall. “Dammit.”

He should’ve picked up the damn gun. No turning back now. He sprinted for the apartment door, Charlie following at his heels. Seth swung the door open and found a body lying on the hall floor. The man was on his stomach, his head turned to the side.

“Oh God.” Seth knelt down beside him. “Ian.” He shook him by the shoulder, but there was no response. He lowered his head and listened. Ian was still breathing. Seth tried again to rouse him with no luck. He gave a quick look for Ian’s phone and his stun gun, but neither were on him or the floor nearby. Seth had no choice. He had to move, had to get help.

He started for the back staircase but stopped before he got far. What if for some reason the door at the base of the stairs wouldn’t open? He’d be trapped at the bottom of the staircase with nowhere to hide and no way to get past Prescott. He had to try for another exit.

He wasn’t about to wait until he heard Prescott’s footfalls coming down the hall inside the apartment. He changed course, leaped over Ian, and continued in the opposite direction. With only the sporadic emergency spotlights on, it was difficult to see far. Despite that, Seth sprinted down the hall and past the security room. A guard was hunched sideways in the open doorway, but Seth didn’t have time to check him. He kept going for the main staircase.

The emergency lights showered the club below in an odd mix of spotlights and shadows. He couldn’t see anyone moving around. He shot down the stairs, Charlie at his side. As soon as he reached the bottom, he darted for the club’s front door. He wasn’t sure if that was the closest exit, but it was the one he was most familiar with. He couldn’t afford the time to search for anything else.

Another downed guard lay on the floor near the entrance. Seth raced past him and tried the front door. It wouldn’t open. Even with the power out, the exterior doors should open from the inside. Maybe Henderson had done something to secure them.

Just as Seth had feared.

“Shit.”

Would the off-site security company be able to detect that the system had been tampered with? Would they be automatically notified of the power outage? Or had Henderson taken care of that as well?

Seth turned to face the dining room. What now?

He froze as he heard faint footsteps somewhere above. He slunk backward into the dark corner near the front entrance, tugging Charlie with him.

* * * * *

Prescott got to his feet and tried to shake off the dizziness. Something warm and thick was running down his face. He pressed a hand to his forehead. Blood. He wiped it from his eyes as he stumbled for the bedroom door.

Thinking better of it, he returned to Henderson’s body and searched him. He found a gun in his jacket pocket. He collected it, as well as the Beretta Prescott had taken from the henchmen earlier. He hated guns, but he might need one if the cops cornered him. He shoved the smaller revolver from Henderson inside his boot alongside the pocketknife. The other gun he decided to hide, tossing it into the drawer of the nearby nightstand. He wasn’t about to use a weapon on Seth unless he absolutely had to. He wouldn’t take the chance of a fatal accident. Not with his boy.

Next he made his way down the hall and into the apartment’s kitchen. He needed supplies. He hadn’t taken the time to go back to the van for anything once he’d gotten away from Henderson’s men. He rifled the kitchen drawers until he found what he could use. A package of zip ties. He shoved them into his back pocket. Then he spotted something else.

It was nice of the asshole owner to leave such a pretty one out for him. It was better than the one in his boot that he’d used earlier to get free of the restraints on his wrists. He retrieved the chef’s knife from the cutting board.

He got moving again. He couldn’t give Seth enough time to find a way out of the club. Nearly all of the exterior doors Prescott had tried when he arrived earlier had been locked, and the ones he’d checked on his way through the club wouldn’t open from the inside. It would take some time for Seth to locate a way out. Maybe the same way Prescott had gotten in: an unlocked employee entrance at the back of the club. There must’ve been someone on the inside helping Henderson.

Following a hunch on where Seth went, Prescott rounded the downed guard at the apartment door and started for the staircase that led to the main floor of the club. He stopped when another idea came to him. He doubled back to the security room. An unconscious guard was keeled over in the open doorway. Prescott shoved the door in the rest of the way and entered, stepping over the guard. The lights, computers, and bank of monitors were on, as were the live camera feeds that covered the club’s public areas.

He surveyed the monitors, spotting several more guards lying on the floor throughout the club. Henderson had been thorough getting everyone out of the way.

Using the control panel, Prescott switched feeds on the main monitor and zoomed in on each unconscious guard. It took him a moment, but then he spotted him. Vargas. The owner was lying in the club’s kitchen.

Yes, that would work perfectly, and of course, would give him immeasurable pleasure.

He continued to scan the video feeds before him and found what else he wanted. Seth. Crouched behind a coat-check podium near the front entrance of the club. He had his dog beside him. He looked small and frightened but safe and unharmed. Very different from the last time Prescott had seen him inside that club, his broken, bloody image displayed on a different monitor.

Prescott leaned in and ran his fingertips over the image of Seth. “I’m coming.”

He straightened. He loved this part. Worth the risk he’d taken in coming to the Haven. He gave Seth one last look. “So worth it.”

* * * * *

From his current vantage point, Seth could no longer view the staircase. He waited, but he didn’t hear anyone moving through the club. He took a chance and peeked over the top of the podium. He gave the open room and balcony above a once-over and froze when he spotted him.

Prescott stood at the top of the stairs, a kitchen knife in hand. He was scanning the first floor below him. Seth ducked back down and held his breath. His heartbeat thudded away as he tugged Charlie close and buried his face in the dog’s gold fur.

Listening carefully, Seth heard Prescott start down the stairs. Taking a chance, Seth peered around the corner of the stand, hoping the darkness would offer enough coverage he’d remain undetected and be able to see where Prescott went next.

Prescott paused at the base of the stairs as if he were trying to decide which way to go or had to convince himself to do something that went against his instincts. He veered around in the opposite direction and headed toward a lighted emergency exit sign that hung over the kitchen doorway.

When he was through the door to the kitchen, Seth crawled toward the guard lying near the front entrance. As he’d done with Ian, he tried to wake him with no success, then checked him for a weapon or a cell phone but came up short again. He crept forward and tried the landline at the guard’s station. No dial tone.

Now what? He had to get out of the club, but how? All the doors were likely locked the same as the front. There weren’t many windows on the first floor, none that he could think of in the public areas. The rooms upstairs had windows, but the doors to those rooms would likely be locked too. There had to be separate emergency exits that would open from the inside, even with all the other doors locked and the power out.

He glanced around again but couldn’t see any lit exit signs, except the one over the kitchen doorway.

He had to move to get a better look or to try something else.

“Think, Seth.”

The security room.

Vargas had said it was on a separate power system like the safe room. Thinking back to when he’d run by it earlier, Seth tried to remember if the lights were on inside. All he’d been focused on was getting away from Prescott.

He stole a quick look around the podium toward the security office on the second floor. Sure enough, there was a faint light coming from the open doorway. Maybe the phone in there was on a different system. And if not, maybe the computers were turned on and connected to the Internet. He could get a message to the police.

He laid a hand on Charlie’s back. As if that gave him the extra courage he needed, he leaned in and whispered, “Time to get out of here, Charlie.”

Before Prescott could return from the kitchen, Seth stood and sprinted across the club for the main stairs. He hadn’t exerted himself physically that much or run that fast since he’d first awoken in the hospital two years ago.

Hell, today was the first time he’d run at all.