“What the hell were you doing?” Hale demanded. Austin had never seen him so riled before. He was vibrating with anger, and his cheeks were flushed. In another life, he had to have been a hardboiled interrogator. Michael was putting up a good fight, but Austin didn’t think he stood a chance. “I know that you disappear for weeks at a time out of the blue, but whatever antics you got wrapped up in? Whatever people you met who did this to you? That’s not okay.”

“You don’t know the first thing about what happened.”

“Because you won’t tell me!” Hale shot back, furious.

The three of them stood in Michael’s apartment. Austin lingered near the hall leading to the front door, nervous. He kept glancing over his shoulder to see if there was anyone sneaking up behind them. He had a bad feeling coming back here, knowing that Michael had just escaped whatever criminal ring he’d been dragged into. Austin didn’t know who exactly was pulling his strings, but men like that didn’t make pleasant house guests. If Michael got caught…

“I spent three weeks in an abandoned warehouse, Hale,” Michael said. Despite Hale’s hot temper, he managed to keep his tone even. “Three weeks. I know that it’s hard to visualize if you weren’t the one living there, but that’s a fucking long time.”

“I know it is. That’s how long you were gone for. How long you left us all waiting!”

“I slept on a wooden chair or on the floor. The unfinished, damp cement floor.”

“I understand that life sucked for you, but it’s because you let something happen that forced you into a situation like this. What do you want from me? A big hug, some balloons and a condolences card? Forget it.”

If there was one thing the McMillan boys were good for, it was being stubborn. Austin bit the inside of his lip, only half-listening to their argument. His ears were perked for signs of home invasion or any other untoward behavior happening around the apartment. Ever since the crash, he’d been more sensitive to his surroundings than ever before. There was a misguided part of him that believed he could have somehow prevented what had happened to him if only he’d been more astute, and it was back out in full-force now that he’d let himself be taken by surprise by one of the criminals during the stakeout.

“You’re going to try to tell me that you couldn’t have left at any time? The door was unlocked. You could have hitch hiked. You could have flagged someone down and begged to use their phone. Hell, you could have stuck to the tree line and walked back to town. I know that it’s not close, and that it would have taken you awhile, but you had the potential to do it. Don’t try to play up the pity card when you know you could have done better for yourself.”

Hale was small and pretty, but he had fangs. Austin’s gaze darted to him, taking him in. He didn’t give pity easily—not to Austin, and not to Michael. Austin found that he liked that about him.

“I’m done talking to you right now,” Michael said. There was anger in his voice that hadn’t been there before, and it raised the hairs on the back of Austin’s neck and kept him on high alert. He was protective over Hale, he realized. The night they’d shared had done more than provide him with physical relief and a way to vent his frustrations—even if it was only in subtle ways, he’d bonded to Hale. “You’re being unreasonable, and if you keep provoking me, I will snap. I can feel it coming. I haven’t slept well in three weeks, I’m hungry, I’m dirty, and I’m not going to put up with being torn into by you when what I really need is a hot meal, sleep, and some goddamn quiet.”

“You think that you deserve all of that? You were in a shitty situation, yeah, but you put yourself in it. You allowed it to happen, and you allowed yourself to be used like that. If you don’t tell me what the hell is wrong, and what it is you did, what do you think I’m going to do? I need answers, Michael. You’re not going to get away with leaving me hanging forever.”

The bickering was growing worse. Austin had a feeling that Hale was going to keep pushing Michael toward his breaking point until, eventually, Michael snapped. Austin didn’t think that Michael would purposefully hurt Hale, but the more he saw, the more he knew he needed to do something. Both of them were so hardheaded that their dispute could go on for hours. They didn’t have time for that.

While the cousins fought, Austin made his way down the hall and entered the bathroom. There was a small puddle of dried piss on the floor by the toilet. He made a face of disgust, locked the door, turned on the overhead vent, and stepped into the shower. He gave it a second to make sure that no one was coming over to investigate, then he dialed the police. Hale could fight him all he wanted about getting the authorities involved, but the fact of the matter was, Michael was safe now, and there was definitely something evil going on in the warehouse. Hale might have had to text himself the license plate number in order to remember it, but Austin’s memory was better than that. He’d report the car and the location anonymously. Whatever was happening needed to stop, and no matter how much of a crime fighting superhero Hale believed himself to be, Austin knew that the situation was too out of hand for him to ever resolve safely.

“Hidden Creek Police Department. Your call is being recorded for security purposes. Are you presently safe?”

“Yes,” Austin said.

“How may we help you?”

Austin glanced toward the bathroom door. In the far distance, he heard Hale and Michael still going at it. “I’d like to place an anonymous tip about illegal activity within the county. There’s an abandoned warehouse off I-45 South, a little more than five minutes outside of Hidden Creek. Illegal activity has been happening there, possibly gang-related. I know for a fact that there have been hostages held at that location, although I don’t think any are being held there at this time. I have a license plate number for one of the vehicles known to be linked to the criminals.”

“Please share it.”

Austin closed his eyes. He listed off the number of the plate, hoping that he was making the right choice. Hale had counted on him to get Michael out of the warehouse, but now that Michael was free, his responsibility had ended. No one was stopping him from getting the authorities involved, just like it should have been from the beginning. It was the best way to keep everyone safe.

The young woman on the phone repeated the license plate number he’d given her. “Is that correct, sir?”

“Yes.” Austin bit the inside of his lip. He and Hale weren’t together—they’d had sex all night long, but that didn’t mean they were in a relationship. Every kiss, every moan, and every shiver hadn’t meant anything. They’d been using each other to take the edge off—to find the kind of pleasure they couldn’t find alone. But that didn’t stop Austin from caring about him. He wanted to keep Hale safe. Hale deserved that much from him.

“Is there any other information you have? The number of people involved, any defining characteristics, what’s going on in the area, if there are firearms involved…”

“There are firearms involved.” Austin didn’t have visual confirmation, but the look on Michael’s face when he’d been led into the warehouse spoke for itself. “These men are armed and dangerous, and the activities they’re involved in are criminal. I don’t have any physical characteristics or any set number of people involved to give you. The warehouse is locked from all sides, and the windows are boarded up. The only way in is with a key. One of them had somehow obtained a key.”

“Understood. Is there anything else? No detail is too small.”

“No.” Austin resisted the impulse to let out a slow, deflating breath. “That’s all I can think of. I need to stress how important it is that this gets looked into. There’s real danger here, not only to the potential hostages, but to Hidden Creek as a town. Something isn’t right.”

“I can assure you that we’ll look into it, sir. Our police force investigates every tip they receive. Your concerns have been heard.”

Austin hoped she wasn’t blowing smoke up his ass. There really was something going on in the warehouse, and as far as he was concerned, it was threatening his way of life. The criminal activity needed to be shut down, and the men involved needed to be arrested for their crimes.

“There’s one last thing,” Austin said. He realized that it was important to add on. “The criminals responsible aren’t permanently stationed at the warehouse. They seem to come and go. It might be necessary to survey the place for a few days to figure out what’s really going on.”

“Your concern has been heard,” she said. “If, at any time, you remember additional details, or want to inquire about the status of the investigation, you can reference the following number. Do you have something to write with?”

“Yes,” Austin lied. He’d have to commit the number to memory.

“HC-4045.”

“HC-4045,” Austin repeated. It was a breeze to remember. “I’ve got it. Thank you.”

“Thank you for taking the time to phone in your concerns about the suspected crime scene,” the woman said. “If there’s nothing more, have a wonderful evening.”

“There’s nothing else. Have a good night.”

The call ended. Austin took the phone from his ear, texted himself the case number so he wouldn’t forget, and leaned against the shower wall. He let out the low, slow breath he’d been holding in and counted down from five in his head.

Five.

I did what I needed to do to keep everyone safe.

Four.

The police will take care of what we can’t.

Three.

No harm will come to me. No one knows I’m involved.

Two.

But what about Hale?

One.

Silence. Austin scrubbed at his face and tried not to think about what could have happened, and what dangers there could still be. He’d done his part to keep the McMillans safe—it was up to Hale and Michael to do the rest.

He stepped out of the shower, turned off the vent, and left the bathroom. Hale and Michael were still arguing. Austin headed down the hall and cut into their conversation. “I’m going to head home. We did what we needed to do, and I need some sleep.”

Hale turned to face him. “I’ll go with you.”

“I need some time alone,” Austin said. It hurt him to turn Hale away, but he needed time to think. It had been one hell of a day, but the terror was over, and he was happy to go on living his life. “If you want, we can talk tomorrow. You’ve got my number now. I just need to make sure I wipe my mind, and I need to do that alone. Sorry.”

“I… get it.” Hale offered him a smile, but it fell short of genuine. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Sure.” It was getting awkward. Austin looked to Michael. “I’m glad you’re okay. Have a good night and get some sleep, okay?”

“Yeah. Will do. Thanks.” Michael’s reply was terse.

It was time to go.

Austin turned and left. He let himself out and was glad that his apartment was just across the hall. He wanted space between himself and what was happening in Michael’s apartment. He figured that it wouldn’t be long before Hale brought Michael back to their family home, or took him to the local motel where Michael could stay the night. It wasn’t safe in his apartment. Austin thought about texting both of them to make sure it happened, but he abandoned the thought when he sank down onto the couch and his exhaustion hit in full force. Before he knew it, his eyelids were dragging themselves downward, and he was on the cusp of sleep.

Michael had served in the Navy. He had common sense. Nothing would happen. They were out of the thick of it, and now it was up to the police to do the rest. That night, Austin fell asleep feeling accomplished. He’d seen something through to the end—something he didn’t think he could handle. Maybe it was the start of a new upward trend. God knew he needed it.

He had no dreams, and he slept soundly—at least, until a knock at his front door in the middle of the night startled him awake.