Prickly Business (34 page)

“Do you know who they are?” Veronica asked.

Avery shook his head. He didn’t want to mention the detective yet. He didn’t get the sense Veronica was lying to try to get information out of him, but he didn’t dare take the risk. She could be working with whoever had abducted him. They might’ve promised to let her go if she found out how much he knew. Or maybe it was all in his head. Still, it couldn’t hurt to be careful. He should’ve used a lot more caution to begin with.

Dylan. God, he must be going crazy.

In Dylan’s place, Avery would be out of his mind with worry. Dylan was protective to a fault. He’d be furious—both at Avery for keeping secrets and at himself for not somehow guessing what Avery had planned. To Dylan’s thinking, it was his duty, his responsibility, to safeguard his mate. Not knowing where Avery was or what had happened might send him right off the deep end. And Avery would be entirely to blame.

Dylan, I’m sorry.

The thought occurred that maybe these people had Dylan too, and Avery’s stomach dropped to his feet. No, he couldn’t let himself even consider that. He’d lose any rationality he’d managed to cling to so far.

They couldn’t know Dylan was involved. He’d gone to the precinct with Avery, sure, but he hadn’t been at the auction. They had no reason to suspect Dylan knew anything about it.

Dylan was safe. He had to be. And Avery would get out of here and back to his mate as soon as he possibly could. All he needed was to make sure no one would notice him missing for a while.

These bars might be able to contain his human form, but a hedgehog? A hedgie could slip right through.

“J
ESUS
C
HRIST
,
D. Sit the fuck down. That shit’s not helping anything, except to drive me nuts.” Lucas pointed at the couch, Dylan assumed to halt his pacing. He sounded exasperated and Dylan wanted to care, but he couldn’t find it in himself. Not right now.

“Fuck you, Luc.”

Despite his words, Dylan plopped onto the sofa, his knee bouncing with pent up nervous energy. The loft was quiet at three in the morning. He’d never noticed that before. Anytime he and Avery were here at this time they were either sleeping or fucking. He’d never seen the loft from the early morning’s point of view. It was nice, mostly. Except for the part where it was completely fucking empty even with four grownass men occupying the space. It’s funny the things that pop into your head when you feel like you’ve lost everything. He squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to be here. Without Avery. But he couldn’t go home either. Everywhere he looked, he saw reminders of Avery. Here? At his house? It didn’t matter. Avery was a part of both places, a part of Dylan. Avery was his home, and he was missing. Nothing would be right—
feel
right—until Dylan had him back.

His heart ached. He needed to be out there searching. Needed Avery.

Dylan shot to his feet and was out of the living room and across the kitchen before a hand grabbed his elbow.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Sawyer growled, sounding fierce and angry. Dylan didn’t take it personally—knew it was because he thought of Avery as part of his pack, a brother. If Dylan could have felt anything at the moment, he was sure the thought would have warmed him.

“Sitting here isn’t bringing him home,” Dylan bit out through gritted teeth.

“And what exactly do you plan on doing?” Sawyer huffed. “Where are you going to start? Because if you have a go point, I’d
love
to hear it. It’s what we’ve been sitting around waiting on for two hours, D. So please, enlighten us.” Tension rocked the room and Dylan had missed it because he was absorbed in his own fears, his own loss. He hadn’t noticed his crew suffering their missing friend too. He turned to Sawyer who still had a death grip on his arm, his jaw clenching and his eyes a maelstrom of emotion. Lucas leaned against the desk, chewing his thumbnail while staring into space. Kirk curled into one corner of the sofa, his knees to his chest. “Yeah, okay,” he said. He sounded tired and dejected even to his own ears. “Let’s talk it through.” It was the last thing he wanted to do—think about why his mate was missing and that he could do nothing because he didn’t
know
anything.

He shut down that train of thought. Avery was strong and stubborn. He had to trust that Avery would be okay until Dylan could get to him.

Sitting back down on the sofa opposite Kirk, Dylan rubbed his hands over his head with a heavy, gut-wrenching sigh.

“I don’t—” His voice was strangled by fear and anger and cold, wet tears. He swallowed, cleared his throat, and tried again. “I don’t know….”
Where to begin. How to find him. Where to go from here. What to do without him.
Dylan shut his eyes against the storm of frustration welling in his chest.

“How about you start from the beginning?” Lucas piped up, sounding lost.

Join the club.

“How did it all start?” he asked, just as soft.

“I think Avery said the guy’s name was Trey or Tony…. Troy. That’s it—the guy’s name was Troy.” Dylan nodded. “Avery thought it might be a fake name, but he didn’t know for sure.”

“You know what he looks like?” Sawyer spoke up.

“No clue.” He shook his head. “I’ve seen him from behind. I could tell you what his back looked like, maybe his body type. He had dark hair, but that could have changed.” He shrugged. “That’s about it.”

“Okay, so that’s a no on trying to find Troy for now,” Lucas ticked off. “What else?”

“What about the phone?” Kirk asked, deep in thought. “Do you know where it is?”

Dylan shook his head. “I looked when I got here, but it’s not here. Avery probably has it with him. He has a habit of leaving it in his car or in his jacket pocket.”

The little things—Avery’s fucking forgetfulness that could drive Dylan batty on a normal day—were what Dylan longed for right now. Their normal. His and Avery’s.

He told them about the meeting with the alpha and what a clusterfuck that had been.

“Do you think we should call him?” Lucas chimed in.

“Who?” It was like they were speaking two different languages. Hadn’t Lucas been paying attention? Dylan had been dialing Avery for two hours with no luck.

“The alpha,” he said like that was the most logical of answers.

“I’m not getting him involved. Not until we need to. I don’t know that we’ll even
need
his help or want it.” Dylan sneered. “You didn’t see how he brushed Avery off like he was a silly kid.” He couldn’t even chalk the alpha’s indifference up to wanting to protect Avery. Odell hadn’t listened to Avery because he hadn’t wanted to. He’d patronized and deflected Avery’s every discovery.

No, not until he had Avery well within his sights would he inform the alpha of what was going on. And that his mate had been right to begin with.

“Okay.” Lucas sounded resigned but at least he’d turned around and was facing Dylan. “What happened next?”

Dylan shrugged. “We went to the police.” Something tickled at the periphery of his memory, but he couldn’t quite grasp hold of it.

“How’d that go?” This from Sawyer who hovered by the kitchen counter like he’d be sure to cut off any escape attempts from now on.

“Not very good. The detectives were di—” Recognition slammed into Dylan, leaving him gasping for air. All of a sudden the pieces fit. That tickle turned into a full-fledged memory. Dylan hadn’t taken a lot away from their meeting with the asshole detectives outside of his disappointment and frustrations with the system. But he remembered something about both the blond and the grouchy older guy—the smell of wet socks and minty chewing tobacco.

“They were there,” Dylan spoke, barely a whisper.

“Who was where?” The look on Kirk’s face was that of utter confusion.

Dylan shook his head. Each word, every glance and sneer between the two men in that room flitted through his memory. He tried to figure out how he’d missed it. How was it possible that two men, who were sworn to protect and serve, could be involved in something so atrocious and vile? How did something like that happen? And how did Dylan not pick up on it, not scent their malice? All of his failures piled up, one after another until Dylan felt the weight of each disappointment, each mistake, each wrong turn that led to this point.

“Son of a bitch,” he swore under his breath.

“What?” Lucas broke into his thoughts. “What are you mumbling about, D?”

“Those asshole detectives,” he growled. “They were there. At the lake house. At least one of them was.”

“What are you talking about? Are you saying the detectives were working the party undercover?”

Dylan let out a bitter laugh. “Not likely. Those two are crooked. I’d bet the Hardcore on it. I knew it when we met them. I just didn’t think it was… this.” Why would he? They’d done a good job of focusing that discussion on what Avery knew and how he’d come about it, instead of talking about the missing girls.

Another thought flashed in his head. He inhaled a sharp stinging breath. If the detectives had seen Avery at the party, there was no way they would have let him get out of there.

“It’s them.” Dylan knew it in his bones, with every breath in his body. “The cops. They have Avery.”

Panic swept through him. Not his own, but Avery’s. It was bittersweet—knowing his mate was alive yet knowing he was afraid, and Dylan could do nothing about it. His heart raced and tears stung his eyes. Suddenly, his reluctance to complete their mating bond ate at him. Why had he put it off? He knew Avery wanted it. Hell, Dylan wanted it too. He rubbed his fist over his chest to stem the ache growing there. It didn’t help.

As quickly as Avery’s panic flooded him, it was gone, replaced with a resolute calm, like Avery had made a decision. Not knowing that decision scared Dylan even more.

“What is it?” Kirk asked from beside him.

Dylan shook his head. It was private, the bond between mates. Intimate. And the fact that he knew Avery was alive and that he was scared and that he…. Dylan couldn’t think about it. Didn’t want to think about anything other than getting Avery back.

“So the detectives,” Sawyer looked up, hope shining in his eyes. “That’s where we look first?”

It’s the only thing that made sense.

“Yes,” Lucas answered before Dylan could open his mouth. “Sawyer, I’m gonna need you to keep an eye on the cops.” He snapped his fingers at Dylan, eyebrows arched in question.

“Melnyk and Harris,” Dylan provided, thankful that Lucas had taken charge.

“Okay.” He nodded. Decisiveness painted every word that fell from his mouth. He faced Sawyer and, with military precision, began spitting orders. “You follow those two dick leaks. Grab one of the guys from the shop to help, if you need it. I want to know where and when they eat, sleep, shit, and scratch their balls. If they have Avery, they’ll slip up, and I want to know when they do.” He turned to Kirk. “Go into Avery’s room and grab a shirt. You guys need to get his scent.” He held up his hand at Dylan’s growl, then glared back. “D, they’re not going to roll in his stuff. You won’t even know they’ve been there.” He pointed at Kirk. “Don’t touch anything else.”

Kirk nodded and disappeared into the bedroom.

To Dylan, Lucas turned and said, “You need to lie down.”

When Dylan opened his mouth to protest, he was cut off. “You’re not doing anyone any good by wearing yourself out. There’s nothing you can do right now anyway. Go in there and try to rest.”

Lucas was right, and he knew it, but lying in that bed without Avery there tore at him.

Silence hung weighty in the loft until Kirk returned with one of Avery’s sweaters. A melancholy smile tilted Dylan’s lips when he thought of the last time Avery had worn that sweater. At lunch with Dylan’s mom last week. His vision blurred and he closed his eyes again at the threat of tears.

A throat cleared and Dylan blinked up at Lucas, standing closer than he’d thought. “Go lie down.” A somber grin turned at the corners of his mouth. “Break down in private, D.”

Dylan didn’t bother to point out that there was no such thing as privacy in the loft. The screen didn’t even reach the ceiling to separate the bedroom from the rest of the living area. Because Lucas was right. Even the perception of privacy was better than nothing.

Taking a final look around at his friends, he wanted to demand they all get rest too, but his fight was fading quickly. Muscles heavy and eyelids droopy, crashing was imminent now that his adrenaline was waning.

He nodded at Lucas, then got up and walked into the bedroom. When he landed face-first in the pillows, Avery’s essence consuming him, Dylan let the tears flow, quietly hiccupping into the soft down. He needed Avery. He needed his home. It was his last thought before darkness dragged him under.

W
HEN
ACTIVITY
began to pick up in the warehouse, Avery figured it must be morning. A guy came through the corridor and, without speaking, shoved an apple and a small bottle of water through the bars of his cell.

Avery forced himself to his feet. Luckily the action didn’t bring about another wave of queasiness. He’d spent the entire night on the verge of vomiting. His head still throbbed, but the lack of nausea was a relief.

“You can’t keep us here,” he told the guard. “We have rights. Let us go, and we won’t tell the cops.” Blank-faced, the guy turned and started walking away. “I can pay you,” Avery called after him. It was a bald-faced lie, but who cared? Right now, he
looked
like he had money. Or at least he had before his suit had gotten covered in filth.

Exhausted, Avery retrieved the water and sank onto the floor. His cell was tiny and grimy enough he suspected it’d never been cleaned. A stained plastic bucket stood in the corner, which Avery assumed he was supposed to use to relieve himself. He only utilized it when the option was that or pissing on himself, and despite the fact they were all in the same predicament, it embarrassed him knowing Veronica and the others could see and hear him.