Chapter 28

Pain.

Every-fucking-thing hurt.

His ribs. His head. His cheeks. His jaw. His back. Hell, even his teeth ached. Everything pulsated and pounded, smarted and stung, throbbed and thumped. It was agony, sheer agony.

Caleb drifted in and out of sleep—or maybe it was consciousness? All he knew was that not being aware was bliss and being awake was torture. He hadn’t seen Joey again, just the driver of the car, who checked in on him occasionally. Maybe every hour? Caleb had lost all sense of time.

He was hungry but, above all, thirsty, not having had anything to drink since his few sips of Coke right before Joey had kidnapped him. How long could one go without water? At least a day, right? Had twenty-four hours passed already?

The room was dark, so it had to be night. That meant that it was, what, maybe ten hours since lunch? Twelve? He still heard a lot of cars outside, so it couldn’t be past midnight on a weekday.

Wander would come for him. Caleb had to cling to that belief, even if despair threatened to creep in at the thought of his phone being off. How would Wander ever find him without being able to track him? He was at some rundown motel, not a property the DiMartinos owned. At least, he didn’t think they did, but what did he know? Maybe they had purchased it for exactly this purpose.

But Wander would come for him. His boss would stop at nothing to find Caleb, that much he knew. Caleb was so much more than an employee to him. Wander loved him like… Well, not quite like a brother, but like a close friend, maybe?

And there was Roman, of course. Roman, who also loved Caleb, though in a different way. Roman, who would be worried out of his mind. How Caleb wished he could tell him he was okay, that he was alive. For now anyway.

Then again, if Joey had wanted to kill him, he could have already. Easily. So clearly, he had a reason to keep Caleb alive. Most likely because he needed information from him. Which meant Caleb had to hold out. Once he started talking, he’d lose his value.

But how much more torture could he take? After that one shallow cut on Caleb’s cheek, Joey hadn’t used the knife again, thank god. Caleb had never been a fan of blood play because all that red made him a little squeamish. Not to the point of fainting, but he definitely didn’t consider it sexy. Getting beat up wasn’t his idea of fun either, but somehow, he could handle it better. Or maybe he was just telling himself that.

To be honest, he wasn’t even sure if his thoughts were making sense anymore. It was hard to focus on one thing. He was so hungry. No, thirsty. And his head fucking hurt. Jesus, who was he kidding? Everything hurt.

When he woke again, it was much quieter outside. Past midnight, then. Other than that, nothing had changed. He still hurt. He was still thirsty. Or was he hungry? Both.

Fuck, thinking was hard. Maybe he had a concussion? Hadn’t Joey slammed Caleb’s head against the wall? That would make sense. It would also explain why he had trouble seeing clearly. Everything was blurry. His right eye throbbed like a mother, so maybe Joey had hit him there?

He was so thirsty. Next time that driver came, he’d ask for some water.

BAM! The door was kicked in, and Caleb’s eyes flew open. Oh fuck, bad idea. He closed them instantly as pain barreled through his head.

What was happening?

He was thirsty. He needed to ask for water.

“Can I have some water?” he whispered. It came out a barely audible croak.

“Caleb,” someone said. “You’re safe.”

No, he wasn’t. Joey was trying to trick him. “Water. Please, I need water.”

“Give him some water.” The voice sounded familiar, but he couldn’t open his eyes. It took too much effort.

Cool water hit his lips, and he took a greedy gulp, promptly choking on it. Every cough hurt like a knife to his chest, and by the time he was done, tears were streaming down his face. “Please… Please, I need water.”

“Careful, Caleb. Take little sips.”

He tried, but his mouth wouldn’t cooperate, and the water ended up dripping down his chin.

“His face is too swollen.”

“That’s okay. He’s still getting some in. Keep at it.”

Who were all these people? They sounded familiar, but one of them had a distinct Boston accent, so he couldn’t be a friend. No, Joey must have sent them to try and trick him into talking.

“I won’t talk,” he said between sips. “No matter what you do. I won’t talk.”

“You did good, kid. You did so good. We’re all so proud of you.”

That was the guy with the Boston accent. Why did he sound so nice? Why would he say he was proud? “You can’t trick me.”

“He’s out of it,” someone else said.

“Look at his face. He must have the mother of all concussions. We need to get him to a hospital.”

A hospital? That made zero sense. Who were these people? Caleb forced himself to open his eyes, and he looked straight into the kind blue eyes of a man built like a tank. He had short hair, a square jawline, and dog tags dangling around his neck. He looked familiar.

“Who are you?” Caleb managed.

“I’m Connor. We met before, remember?”

Connor. Caleb blinked. “You’re from Boston.”

“I am. Born and raised, but I live close to you.”

“With Indy and Josh.”

“Indy, Josh, Noah, and Miles and his men.” He nodded at a guy who stood guard at the door. “That’s Miles.”

“Where’s Wander? And Roman? Oh god, where’s Roman? Did you hurt him?”

Connor shook his head. “Roman is fine, kid, I promise. He’s on his way.”

“You’re… You’re a friend?”

“I am. We’re here to take you home, kid.”

Kid. Wander always called him kid. Roman had never decided on a pet name for Caleb, had he? Fuck, why was thinking so hard? “Everything hurts.”

“I bet. They worked you over hard.”

“My head… I can’t concentrate.”

“I suspect you have a concussion. We’re taking you to the hospital as soon as Wander and Roman get here.”

“Okay.” He blinked. “Imma sleep for a bit…”

“Actually, it’s better if you stay awake.”

Caleb’s eyes drifted shut.

“Stay awake, kid. Don’t fall asleep. Here, why don’t you drink some more water?”

The cold liquid against his lips woke him up again, and he drank.

“Caleb!”

Had he drifted off again?

Gentle tapping against his cheek. He winced. “That hurts.”

“I know, and I’m sorry, but you need to stay awake, kid. Ambulance is on the way.”

Ambulance? “Where’s Roman?”

“Also on the way.”

“Can’t leave before he’s here.”

“Then I hope he hurries the fuck up because I can’t keep you awake much longer, and hell if I let you die on my watch.”

Die? “I don’t wanna die.”

“That makes two of us. Glad we agree. So I’m gonna need you to do your wicked best to stay awake, okay? When you see that bright light, head the fuck in the other direction.”

He was funny. Connor was funny. His name was Connor, right?

Fuck, everything hurt.

But at least he wasn’t thirsty anymore.

“Caleb!”

Right. He needed to stay awake. “I’m trying.”

“I know you are.”

Sirens came closer. “Where’s Roman?”

“He should be here any minute. I think Wander is breaking the sound barrier to get here.”

Caleb chuckled, then spasmed as pain flared through him. Bad idea. Bad, bad idea.

“Caleb!”

That wasn’t Connor. That was… “Roman?”

“Oh Jesus, Caleb…” Gentle fingers touched his head, his face. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Caleb forced his eyes open. “I didn’t talk.”

Roman knelt in front of him, his eyes wet with tears. “You did good. No one else would’ve been able to hold out, but you did.”

“Everything hurts.”

“I know.” Roman caressed Caleb’s left cheek, and even that hurt. “Ambulance is here, baby. We’ll get you the good stuff.”

“Can’t fall asleep. Connor said so.”

“He’s right, but we’ll let the EMTs take care of you, okay?”

Caleb blinked, and then two EMTs were standing over him. One shined a light into his right eye, then his left. “That fucking hurts,” Caleb mumbled, sounding drunk.

“Pupils slow and dilated,” one of them said.

“Can you tell us what happened?” the other asked Caleb.

Caleb snorted. “I got beat up. What do you think happened?”

“He hasn’t lost his sense of humor,” the EMT said dryly. “That’s a good sign.”

“Everything fucking hurts. Literally everything.”

“Can you tell us what day it is?”

He had no clue. He’d been at work when Joey had gotten him, but what day had it been? Thursday? Friday? “Close to the weekend.”

“And who is the president?”

Who the fuck cared about the president? “Can we focus on me, please?”

“We are, buddy, but we’re trying to see how you’re doing.”

Ah, okay. “Bad. I’m feeling horrible. I think I have a concussion. Connor thinks so too.”

“Certainly sounds like it, but we’ll let the doctors make that call. I’m gonna check your abdomen, okay?”

He lifted Caleb’s shirt.

“Jesus Christ,” Roman said, sounding broken.

“I’m gonna press on your abdomen now. That may hurt, but I need you to tell me if it’s unbearable.”

Unbearable? What did that even mean? His whole body was unbearably painful. But when the EMT pushed on Caleb’s abdomen, his vision went white, and a wave of nausea barreled into him.

“His abdomen is distended and extremely painful to the touch,” the EMT said. “We need to get him to a hospital now. He may have internal bleeding.”

Internal bleeding? “That doesn’t sound good.”

“It’s not, so we’ll get you checked out as soon as possible. Who’s riding in the ambulance with him?”

“I am.”

Caleb’s eyes drifted close again.

“You’re the guy from the news tonight, that district attorney.”

The guy from the news? What was the EMT talking about?

“Correct.”

“This your boyfriend?”

“Also correct. Can we go now?”

“Yes. Let’s load him up.”

He should stay awake. He really should stay aw?—

This time, he didn’t open his eyes again when they called his name.