Reno

Shit. There wasn't supposed to be anyone else out here. Someone would have mentioned it before we left, that was for sure. Max wasn't the type to leave a detail like someone else from the ranch or someone from one of the neighboring ranches being on patrol in the area. And if it was anyone like that, they definitely wouldn't have ordered us out under the threat of being shot.

I could hear the accent in the man's voice. It was clear English, there was no doubt about that, but there was a roll to his r's and a rhythm to some of his speech. I'd lived long enough to know better than to slap labels on people, but I'd also lived in Texas my whole life. I'd heard enough to recognize someone who was good with English but hadn't learned it as a primary language.

"What do we do?" I heard Elliot whisper next to me, which was pointless. There was no telling how close the people outside the tent were, so there was a chance they could hear.

"Probably what the man with a gun tells us to," I said between gritted teeth, wishing I could cast him a look that would tell him to keep his mouth shut. The last thing I needed was for him to have one of his moments and piss someone off.

"Shit," he grunted, and I reached to open the tent.

"We're coming out," I called in a thankfully steady voice.

The clouds must have faded while we slept because the moonlight was strong enough for me to see, considering the tent"s darkness. There were five guys, and it seemed they weren't lying. Every single one of them had a weapon. Three of them had rifles, but only one had theirs drawn. Another had a handgun on his hip, and the other was holding his loosely in his hand, apparently not bothered in the slightest.

"You were right. There were two of them in there," one of the men with a rifle said. He was sitting on the rock I'd been using for a seat earlier, and I immediately recognized his voice as that of the one who'd spoken just a moment ago.

"Told you," the guy holding his gun loosely said with a pleased smirk. "I still got some brains knocking around in there."

I glanced toward our horses, still tied up by the rocks, and then down at the two packs outside our tent. It probably would get us shot, but God, was it tempting to prick the ego of that little bastard. Putting together the most basic clues wasn't exactly difficult.

"Some, yeah," the original guy said, and I had to guess he was probably in charge. "You two are an awful ways out here…and in such a small tent."

Before I could say anything, Elliot blurt out in a shaky voice. "We took too long with the first one. We're shit at this camping stuff."

I bristled as laughter rippled through the small group as the leader snorted. "Yeah, we can see that. Came strolling out without a whole lot on. Gets pretty cold around here at night."

"Yeah, well," Elliot said with a nervous laugh that tightened my chest. He'd always done fairly well under pressure before, but the sight of guns was clearly working against him. Not that I blamed him, but I'd been on the end of a few guns in my time, so I knew that if they wanted to use them, they would have by now. "It's pretty cramped in there, made more sense that we would go shirt and sockless. Figured two of us crammed in there would keep it warm without us having to fry in the morning."

"Elliot?" I asked softly.

"Yeah?"

"You're rambling."

"A little. Sorry."

"Aww," said the one who was obviously enjoying this in his own cocky way. "I think that one's gonna piss his pants, Edgar."

The leader, Edgar, glanced at his friend before looking back at us. "Shut it, Keith. We'll give him a little understanding. Dragged out of his bed in the middle of the night with a bunch of us all loaded? That's gonna shake people."

"He looks like he's going to do more than shake," Keith said. "Thought you Texas boys were supposed to be made of that good shit. With them iron cajónes."

"They're supposed to be steel," Elliot muttered behind me, shuffling his feet nervously. "I think that's the phrase."

"E," I hissed quietly, unsure if I wanted him to shut up, but I needed him to calm down. These guys were way too in control for him to get freaked out and do something impulsive.

"Right, stopping," he mumbled, still subtly shifting his weight. That, at the very least, I could tolerate if it meant he was staying in control. These guys weren't exactly jumpy and were already aware he was borderline freaking out, so I didn't think they'd take his behavior as threatening.

"So, what brings you two to this neck of the woods?" Edgar asked, tugging at his dirt-covered jeans. Which begged the question of where they'd come from since I didn't see any horses or vehicles nearby. That meant they had to have walked, but from where? There wasn't anything nearby that anyone could comfortably walk to or from.

"Sheep," Elliot answered quickly. "We were looking for sheep that got out."

"Mhmm, and from where?"

"Isaiah Ranch."

Keith grinned. "Well, we got us a couple of hardened criminals. Just look at that one. You can see he's tough as nails."

Again, I bristled, knowing he was mocking Elliot, but kept my mouth shut. Just like we didn't need Elliot to panic and do something stupid, I didn't need to lose my temper and do something stupid. We were still alive, so they clearly wanted something from us, though whether that was going to last remained to be seen.

"Didn't think they sent you folks out this far," Edgar said, eyes on me.

"Surprised me too," Elliot said with a little laugh. "I guess they're starting to trust us. Probably going to give us a promotion…I hope."

I dared to look at him, watching as his eyes darted around the assembled group. There was no denying he was riled up and practically vibrating, but…I don't know. Something felt odd about it. I couldn't figure out the problem, but there was something wrong with how he acted.

"Promotion?" Edgar asked slowly.

"Yeah, like, when you're in the program, you start at the lowest level, we call them Tiers. We're at the bottom tier, but they've been really good about trusting us, so I kinda think they might be giving us a promotion to the next tier soon," Elliot said, glancing toward Keith and then back to Edgar. "So you know, we're just…doing what we can, what we're supposed to do. We're not…trouble."

"I can see that," Edgar said with a snort, though I didn't like how his eyes settled and stayed on me for a few too many heartbeats. "Or at least that's what I'm hoping."

"We have no idea who you are," I said, glancing between him and Keith. "Other than two whole names, which tells us nothing. All we see are a handful of guys, guns, and a whole lot of things that aren't our business."

"Know something about minding your own business, do you?" Edgar asked with an arched brow.

"Grew up in the shittiest part of Dallas. You learn to mind your own business, or you become part of that business."

"Seems like you must've got into someone's business if you ended up at that ranch."

"Not…really."

"Oh?" he asked, cocking his head and, for the first time showing interest in something we had to say. I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or the worst outcome possible. "Well, now you're going to need to explain that one to me."

I looked around, taking in the sight of the other four men. They had formed a tight semi-circle around us, essentially fencing us in. "You want to know why I ended up at the ranch?"

Edgar chuckled. "I know enough about that place to know you got into the ranch because of good behavior. But I'm real curious why you ended up going to prison in the first place."

"Why?"

"Does it matter? Last I checked, we've got five men and five guns, you've got two half-asleep, scared men and not enough clothes to survive the night on your own."

If I wasn't mistaken, that was two threats in one sentence. We do what they say, or they use those guns on us, or they leave us out to the elements. It also made me immediately aware how cold it was now the sun was long gone. Even the ground under my bare feet was cool and would probably be freezing soon. We were finally at the time of year when the nights in a desert could be just as harsh as the daytime in summer.

Well, if I was going with my idea of not doing anything stupid, it meant I should probably go along with what he wanted. After all, of all the things he could have asked for, asking why I'd ended up in prison was next to nothing. There could have been far more devious or cruel things, like asking me to hurt Elliot or forcing me to climb at night without any gear.

That didn't stop me from having a moment of hesitation, though. I had told no one why I'd ended up there, not the whole story anyway. Honestly, it was a miracle Elliot even bothered to get involved with me, considering the half-truth version of the story I'd told him. It took a very special person to hear, ‘I beat the shit out of my ex-boyfriend to the point he ended up in a coma,' and still want to be involved with that person. You either had to be crazy or…well, a sad soul who gravitated toward that sort of person because it was all you knew.

At this point, I had to accept Elliot was just crazy.

"He beat the shit out of someone," Elliot blurted out so loudly a couple of the guys and me jerked. "Two guys. An old friend of his and a friend of that friend."

"Really?"

"Really. Put one of them into a coma."

"And what did you do?"

"I, uh…helped in an armed robbery where the clerk got messed up badly—an old guy. Almost killed him. I didn't hit him, but…we all went in together."

"Interesting," Edgar said, clearly not that interested. He turned his attention back to me. "So, I can understand robbery, but beating your friend to a pulp? That takes a special kind of man…or a special kind of hate. What was it?"

"I…" My words cut off as I realized Elliot had interrupted me previously, emphasizing friend when it had been my ex-boyfriend. He'd jumped ahead of me in conversation before to explain why we had camped out in the same tent together. He was purposefully making sure these men had no idea we were gay, let alone a couple.

Was that the product of a mind terrified of being outed to a bunch of strangers with weapons or…oh. Now I understood why his apparent terror had seemed so off to me, and I could almost kick myself for not realizing it sooner. All the times before, whenever I'd seen him afraid, he had either made a scene or locked down tight…save for that incident with Mona, but that woman could have been an interrogator for the CIA.

Christ, was he playing a long game right now?

"Well?" Edgar asked, a new edge to his voice.

I took a deep breath, preparing to answer the man's question and desperately trying to ignore the guilt and shame that came with it. I'd never had the motivation to get past it before, but the possible threat to our lives if I didn't would have to do.

"I…" My teeth gritted as I continued pushing forward. "I discovered he and his buddy were?—"

My pause drew out for a moment, and Elliot shifted restlessly next to me. "Reno?"

I hated being on display to anyone, let alone a bunch of strangers. I bunched my fists at my side and glared at the sky so I didn't have to see anyone's faces. "They were raping kids, alright? I had known this guy for years, and I thought his friend was alright. But for pretty much the whole time I knew them, they were teaming up to molest and rape the kids they could get their hands on. Fuck, he was even pimping out his own brother to a bunch of his sick friends since the kid was seven."

"I…how did you find out?" Elliot asked, the horror in his voice overriding the terror he had been feeling or faking.

"Remember when I said I used to babysit my friend's kids sometimes?"

"Well, yeah-oh. Oh. Oh."

"Yeah."

"I left him and his buddy with a few of them to make a sale," I said, hating that I'd been away all over a few baggies of coke so I could have some extra money. "But a couple of sales didn't pan out, so I came back early and?—"

How do you explain to anyone, let alone people who had just learned your name, what it was like to realize what was going on? What words could possibly encompass the full breadth and depth of the horror, the betrayal, the disgust, and the fury and hate that filled me? To realize there were so many worse things your partner could be doing than leaving you for another person, even hiding an addiction. Hell, cheating on me with another adult would have been nothing compared to what I'd seen when I walked into that living room unannounced.

The only lie I'd told in court was that, at that moment, I had blacked out, remembering very little of what I did after entering the apartment. I remembered. I remembered with clarity that was too sharp at times, the colors, sounds, and sensations so clear they felt artificial.

I remembered every blow, the ache it caused in my hands, and the blood it splattered. I could still hear the kids crying, who I'd thankfully had the mind to lock in the back bedroom so they wouldn't see anything. Each crack of bone, each cry, and moan of pain as I took my rage out on the two of them. I had seen it all so clearly, even as I lied in my testimony. Whether I was believed or not didn't seem to matter, they hadn't questioned me too hard on the accuracy of my testimony.

"Wow, and that's what they locked you up for?" Keith asked, surprising me with his tone, sounding almost impressed. "That's the American justice system for ya, now, isn't it?"

"I had several priors and beat them badly. Both of them nearly died, and my…friend, he didn't wake up for several months," I told him with a shrug, pushing at the shame and guilt to try to make it go away before it showed even more on my face. "And…I'd beat the ass of the judge's kid once back in high school. I guess he never forgot that or forgave it."

"Huh, now ain't that a mighty shame," Edgar said thoughtfully, looking over his weapon and grunting. "A damn shame."

"What's a shame?" I asked warily.

"Well, for one, shame you didn't kill ‘em. Some people are just sick," he said, cocking his head. "Does make some other things a little more complicated, though."

"What sort of things?" I asked warily, alarm bells going off in my head.

"Well, having witnesses is kind of an issue. We weren't expecting anyone to be out here this time of year. Normally, that ranch of yours reserves its little outings for the summer. And instead of no one, we happen to see a campfire while we're making our way through, checking things out," Edgar explained.

"Can't have people seeing us move through here with our goods," Keith said with a snort. "That wouldn't look too good."

"Shut up," Edgar told him sharply, but it was too late. That conversation alone was enough to tell me we had accidentally been found by a scouting party, even though they hadn't expected anyone to be out here. Which probably meant they had been trying to move something through tonight as a test run, and if they were here, that meant we'd camped right along their scheduled path. "And from the looks of our hero here, he's figured some things out. Good going, Keith."

"Sorry," Keith muttered.

"Dammit," I muttered, wishing I had more control over my facial expressions. Normally, scowling and anger were enough to put people off trying to read me, but somehow I didn't think that would work on this group.

"Yeah, sorry about that," Edgar said with a shrug. "But you can see my problem."

"Oh, we aren't telling anyone anything," Elliot insisted, his eyes going wide. "We have no reason to."

"See, I'd like to believe that, but in this business?" Edgar began, standing up slowly. "You can't take any chances."

The muscles in my shoulders tightened as I felt the energy in the group shift noticeably. I had hung onto the faint hope that if we played along and kept our cool, there might be a way out. But that had been a fool's hope, obviously, and I really wasn't ready to get executed in the middle of the desert.

Keith grinned, his hand finally tightening on his gun. "The big one looks like he's ready to fight. Kinda stupid if you ask me…I like it."

"What was the point of twenty questions if you're just going to get rid of us anyway?" I asked behind gritted teeth, trying to keep an eye on them all to see which might act first. Not that I was some action hero who could take them down, but hell, maybe I could at least distract them enough that Elliot might have a chance to escape. "Fun and games?"

"When I get the chance, I like to get to know the people I might have to kill," Edgar said.

"Might?" I repeated warily.

"See, my problem is I can't have you two going back and saying anything about what you've seen. Just like I couldn't risk you two seeing something tonight you weren't supposed to see. Which could've happened if we moved through."

That logic didn't quite track, but it didn't feel like the moment to argue. He was the only one standing between us and a bullet in our brains, so I needed to keep my eyes on him and hopefully keep on his good side.

"Well, you said ‘might have to kill,' so does that mean you've decided which side of the ‘might' you're on?" I asked him calmly.

"That depends."

"On?"

"How long are you two supposed to be out here?"

"Uh, until we find the sheep," I said, glancing at Elliot in confusion, though Elliot continued to stare at Edgar with a thoughtful expression on his face. "Or at least something we can come back with to say they're dead or long gone."

"And how long were you given?"

"A few days," Elliot answered immediately before I could tell him it was supposed to be only a day at most. "The sheep were out long before anyone noticed the herd was smaller and the fence was broken. I wanted to find them as fast as possible. They're?—"

"Stupid," I finished with a scowl, wondering why Elliot was lying to them. "Very stupid."

"That's not their fault," Elliot muttered, looking down at his feet.

"So, no one will expect you for a few days then?" Edgar said thoughtfully and I swore I could have kicked Elliot right then and there. We might have had a chance of making it through this if they thought someone would come looking for us relatively soon, but a few days gave them ample time to do whatever they wanted, both with their delivery and us.

"I guess," Elliot said with a wince. "Don't like it when you put it like that."

Edgar let out a soft chuckle, looking over at our bags. "Julio."

One of the men with a rifle stepped forward, picking up our bags and dragging them over. A light flashed on in his hand, and they swept through the bags, not taking their time but not hurried.

Edgar looked up from the bags. "This is a decent place for a site."

At that point, I gave up trying to steer the conversation. "He said he knew a decent place, so here we are."

"Well, good thing you listened. Had to spend quite a few days and nights out in this place before, so I know a good one when I see it," Edgar said, dropping the bags. "And I know that's about enough water and rations to keep you two tided over…but not the horses."

"There's jugs," Elliot said, nodding toward the horses standing stock still and watching us intently. "We carried them on the horses."

"You two, your packs and water jugs? You two weren't looking for speed," Edgar noted before looking up at the sky and scowling. "Troublesome. I do like you two."

"I can't say the feeling is mutual," I said with a shrug.

That got a smile out of him. "Can't say I blame you. I wouldn't be too big a fan of anyone who decided to wake me up like that. Tell you what…let's make sure you two don't do anything stupid, and in the meantime, I'll give it some thought."

"What does that mean?" I asked.

"It means," Edgar said, turning his hand to lay on the butt of his gun. "We're going to let you get some clothes on, and then you're going to behave yourselves while I come up with a plan."

It was the smallest and slowest of movements, but I wasn't fooled. The man wouldn't hesitate to gun us down if it meant taking care of the problem. Where Keith seemed intent on batting us around like a cat playing with its food, Edgar was taking a far more patient, levelheaded response to the whole thing. And that he was keeping someone like Keith in line and the others quietly obedient probably meant he was the most dangerous of the entire group.

"Sure," I said with a shrug.

"Good," he said. "You first, and then your buddy."

There was no helping it, but I would have preferred not to have my eyes off Elliot. Not because I was convinced he was about to do something stupid but because I didn't trust how calm the whole situation had been. Then again, that was probably the whole point of Edgar's friendly little charade. Not that there was any way I could argue. We were outnumbered and underpowered compared to them. Our only choice was to go along with what they said.

I made sure to move slowly toward the tent as Edgar grunted. "Get the horses. Take them back to the camp."

Camp? That thought stuck in my head as I tried to find the clothes I'd tucked away. Thankfully, we had stuck our clothes in the corners, but it took me a moment to find a stray sock. Camp meant they were nearby, and whatever camp they'd set up had probably been where they kept however they got here. They had to have come on foot because there was no way I wouldn't have woken up to the sound of vehicles this close, and unless they had the most silent horses in the world, we would have heard those during the conversation.

I jerked up straight when I heard the harsh sound and a string of vehement curses in Spanish. Almost immediately, it was followed by a sharp ‘No!" from Elliot and the discharge of a gun that sent me barreling out of the tent. But it was Elliot who appeared in front of me, grabbing me and stopping me from going any further as two guns turned toward me.

"What happened?" I barked, looking down to see where he'd been hit. But Elliot was fine. His eyes were wide, and I could see wetness in them, but other than that, I couldn't see what had?—

A sharp scream rose from behind the group, and I winced at the animalistic but still horrifyingly human sound. I could only make out a shadow thrashing on the ground, and I knew at that moment it was one of our horses. In the moonlight, I could see someone walking toward it, raising their gun and firing one more time, cutting off the horse mid-shriek.

"Unfortunate," Edgar muttered.

"What the fuck?" I demanded.

"It was Coyote," Elliot said softly, refusing to turn around. "They were trying to get the two of them. When they grabbed Cheyenne, she tried to pull away, and when they pulled harder?—"

I didn't understand what could have happened until their fifth group member staggered up. Even in the light of the moon I could see his arm was at an odd angle as he let out a hiss of pain. I didn't need to know any more than that to realize what had happened.

Max had told us Coyote had a history of being extremely protective, so it made complete sense. The horse had clearly realized how tense the entire situation was, and when they tried to take Cheyenne by force, the horse did what he'd done more than once in the past. It had cost him his life, but it had also severely hurt one of the bad guys.

"Cheyenne?" I asked quietly.

"Gone," Edgar grunted, looking annoyed. "For a horse carrying so much all day, she can ride like the wind."

"We didn't ride them hard," I said between gritted teeth. I had no great love for horses but damn it all, it was hard not to like a horse willing to fight tooth and nail on its friend's behalf, especially at the cost of his life. "It was just a stupid horse. Why shoot it?"

"The guy's buddy did it without thinking," Elliot said, and I could hear the tightness in his throat. I might not have known how much of his fear had been put on, but his heartbreak was genuine. He'd always had a soft spot for the animals and…things.

"Shut up," Edgar growled at us, making Elliot stiffen.

That reaction told me everything I needed to know about what had really just happened. One of them had got hurt, and his friend had lashed out in retaliation, scaring off Cheyenne and killing Coyote. I didn't know if he was more pissed about the loss of the horses or the fact that his men had acted so strongly without his say so…but I'd be willing to put good money on the last one.

"You," Edgar said, pointing at Elliot. "Go get dressed and get out here."

"Fine," Elliot said, the fear gone from his voice and replaced by something just as shaky but far more fiery.

I glanced after him as he ducked into the tent and then watched Edgar turn toward the injured man. When the man who'd shot the horse came up, Edgar eyed him. "Both of you, get back to camp. And then you find the other one. You hear me? And find it fast."

The man who'd done the shooting scowled but turned and motioned to the injured man. I wouldn't be surprised if the guy was barely holding it together, but it was hard to see the color of his face as he followed his buddy. That left us with three, including the head honcho, Keith, who was probably aching for a reason to shoot us as well, and the third, so far, completely silent guy with a handgun.

Elliot came out of the tent with a swish of the flap. He looked around in confusion and then straightened when Edgar snapped his fingers. "Keith, keep their hands occupied. But let's remember they've been behaving themselves."

"Yeah, yeah, I got you," Keith muttered as he walked over to us, reaching into his vest and pulling out zip ties. "Hold your hands out."

"Fine," I muttered.

"Not you," Keith said, nodding toward Elliot. "You."

"I…okay," Elliot said, sounding unsure again as he held out his hands. Keith didn't waste a moment tying the plastic and yanked them tight. Hard enough that Elliot gave a faint grunt as he pulled his wrists back. "Ow, thanks for that."

"Don't get smart," Keith told him with a wide grin. "Or I'll show you how stupid you are."

"I hear you," Elliot said softly, pulling his hands back and letting them dangle before him.

"Good, now you," Keith said, holding up a finger and making a spinning motion. "Turn your butt around and put your hands behind your back."

Gritting my teeth, I did as he told me. Apparently, something about me or my story had been enough to convince them I was a threat. They clearly didn't want my hands in front of me and at my disposal. Oddly enough, as he wrapped the plastic around my wrists and tightened them even more roughly than he'd done with Elliot, I realized something else. It wasn't useful, but I noticed that while Edgar's voice had that constant rolling rhythm, even if it was gentle, I'd only heard an accent in Keith's voice when he'd said a single word of Spanish.

"Happy?" I asked when I felt the plastic bite even harder into my skin. "Unless you're trying to cut my fucking circulation off."

"Keith," Edgar growled.

"Fine, fine, I didn't realize he was so touchy," Keith said with a chuckle, patting my arm.

"I'm not," I said, pulling away from him. "But I am seriously considering touching your throat."

"With your hands behind your back? That would be a neat trick."

"I've got a couple of feet that are pretty good at stomping."

"You know," he said, getting a little closer. "I think I'm starting to like you."

"Enough," Edgar grunted. "Play your little games once we've got this settled."

"I'm not going to do anything," Keith chuckled, stepping back. "You know me, boss."

"Good," Edgar said, turning to the third guy. "You and I stay here. Keith, take the other back to the camp as well."

"Now, wait a minute," I began, stepping forward only to get pushed back.

"You stay right where you're at," Edgar said as Keith grinned, his fingers flexing against my chest as he held me in place. "I'm not starting any trouble, and I want you to do the same. So you stay right there and keep Julio and me company."

"Why didn't you just send him with the other two?" I growled, hating the idea of Keith being alone with Elliot. It was hard to believe, but I almost thought the guy might be the second in command. But if that was the case…well, maybe Elliot wasn't better off with anyone else in the group. "Or take me?"

"Because I want you here, that's why," Edgar said, clearly used to having his orders respected. "And I want you two separated. That way, you don't get to cook up any plans while I'm thinking."

"I'm not cooking up anything," Elliot said softly, looking around.

"Good idea," Edgar said, watching him and then jerking his head toward the dark horizon. "Take him back. Radio when you get there, let me know if we're secure. Maybe we can get something through tomorrow night if we're lucky and the night after."

"We're not going to babysit these two, are we?" the third man, Julio, complained.

"Don't be such a spoilsport," Keith told him, flipping him off.

"Enough. Get him out of here," Edgar said, turning and leveling his gaze with mine. "And you, sit."

"Am I allowed to sit on that rock?" I asked, nodding toward the elevated one I'd used to sit with Elliot earlier. "Or do I sit like a kid in time out with my arms like this?"

Edgar snorted and waved me toward the rock. I looked over to see Elliot being marched off by Keith, his face tense, either from worry, fear, pain…or all of them. Our eyes met, and I could only stare back at him, unable to offer anything. The two of us were helpless, and I wished I could have offered him more.

But, with me being left here with only two of them, maybe…just maybe, I might have a chance to do something. Freeing myself from the zip ties would be tricky, especially with them behind my back. Plus, Julio and Edgar were still armed, and since no one had complained when Keith put my arms behind my back, they probably agreed I was more dangerous, putting them on alert.

Hell, Edgar had probably chosen Keith to take Elliot back because the guy was a bit fucking scary at times, and Elliot was plenty scared as it was. Well, and it looked like Keith was a little too pleased to start screwing with me, so Edgar probably didn't trust him to stay in line when he wasn't under a watchful eye. I only hoped Keith didn't decide to take his ‘playtime' urges out on Elliot.

"Don't get killed," I muttered as Elliot disappeared from sight, being taken around another of the large rock formations in the same direction the other two from earlier had gone.

"That's some good advice," Edgar said thoughtfully, dropping onto the rock across from me. "I'm hoping you take some of your advice."

"I'm not looking to get killed," I told him. "Even if I have a powerful feeling, you're going to do it anyway."

"If I were going to do that, then I would have already," he said with a shrug.

"Or you're just waiting to get us away from here. Kill us, and get rid of the evidence so people just think we took off and died somewhere instead of being killed."

"So I'm lying to you?"

"Could be. I mean, I bet it's a lot easier to keep people behaving when they think they still have a chance of living. They're probably a lot more likely to get ballsy when they think they're going to die either way."

Edgar eyed me thoughtfully and then smiled…I didn't like that smile. "You have lived a rough life, haven't you?"

"Rough enough," I said.

"But not so rough that you're like us, huh?"

"I don't know what you're like, but you're clearly willing to kill. Or at least make it seem like you are. And considering it's not too hard to figure out what kind of people would need to move stuff around here quietly, that tells me you are pretty willing to kill us."

"Good," he said, leaning back, pulling out a radio, and setting it beside him. "Keep that in mind. Because if you decide to do something stupid, it's your friend that's going to pay the price."

I gritted my teeth. "That's why you sent him with Keith. He's your fucking attack dog."

Edgar's eyes widened in what looked like surprise. "Attack dog? No, no, that's Julio here."

Julio gave me a smirk and shot off a string of words I didn't understand, though clearly he understood English just fine.

"What did he say?" I asked.

"Keith is a decent shooter, but he's not someone you want in a fight," Edgar explained, giving me a smile I liked even less than the last one. "But if you want to get something out of someone, or if, say, you need someone to pay dearly for their friend's mistake, you don't send a dog. You send a demon."

Oh.

Oh, Elliot.