Chapter 27

chapter

twenty-seven

Ash was waiting for them in the hospital corridor, looking like a man that hadn’t slept in years. His auburn hair stood up from too many passes of an agitated hand and his beard needed a comb to control the flyaways.

“What the hell’s going on, Cross?” Ash demanded the moment they were in earshot. He planted his hands on his duty belt, right beside his holstered gun. A not-so-subtle threat or warning. “Because I’ve got a traumatized kid in there”—her jerked his chin toward a closed door down the hall, where a deputy stood guard—”who won’t talk to anyone but you. A stranger.”

Rylan met the sheriff’s accusing glare head-on. They’d never really been friends—Ash could be a hard man to like—but they’d always shared a mutual respect. Until now, apparently.

“I’m not a stranger.”

Ash’s eyebrows shot up. “So you’ve met?”

“I...” Rylan dragged a hand through his hair.

Christ, he didn’t have a good explanation, not without sounding certifiable. “I think so. It’s… complicated.”

“Uncomplicate it.”

“I can’t. I’m sorry. I need to talk to Noah first.”

Ash crossed his arms over his chest and scowled. “Now I’m thinking it’s not a good idea.”

Izzy stepped forward, angling herself slightly between them. “Sheriff, please. Trust us on this. Let Rylan see Noah. It’s important.”

Ash’s gaze flicked to her, and if Rylan wasn’t mistaken, those hard eyes softened for just an instant. “I wish I could, Delgado, but I trusted you once before and got burned.”

Izzy flinched as if Ash had slapped her. Rylan saw the flash of hurt and regret in her eyes before she blinked it away. She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin, meeting Ash’s glare with a steady one of her own.

“I know I made a mistake, Sheriff. A huge one that I will never forgive myself for. But this isn’t about me or what I did.”

“This isn’t about trust,” Rylan said, fighting to keep his voice level. “This is about a scared kid who’s asking for me. I don’t know why, but I intend to find out. So you can either let me see him now, or I’ll lawyer up and get Cal Holden down here. And you know how much Cal likes to make your life difficult. Your choice, Sheriff.”

Ash stared at them for a long moment, his jaw working. Finally, he exhaled harshly through his nose and stepped back, gesturing for them to go ahead. “Five minutes. Not because I trust you, but because the FBI agent who took over this case will be here soon, and I want some fucking answers before he shows up.”

Rylan nodded his thanks and moved past Ash. Izzy hurried to catch up, and, to his surprise, laced her fingers through his.

When they reached Noah’s room, the deputy glanced toward Ash, who nodded once, then pushed open the door for them.

Noah sat huddled on the bed, his pale face framed by messy hair, his knees drawn up to his chest, looking impossibly small and vulnerable. When he saw Rylan, his hazel eyes widened with a mix of fear and desperate hope.

“You came,” he whispered. “I knew you would.”

Rylan’s breath caught. His legs moved of their own accord, closing the space between them. “Noah, I—” He didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know what he could say, because even now, faced with the terrified boy, he couldn’t remember anything more than what his subconscious had shown him in the dream. “Of course I came. I told you I would help you.”

“You have to help Grace. Please.” Noah’s hand tightened on the blanket, his voice breaking with desperation. “She’s still there with Mom.”

Izzy sat down on the edge of Noah’s bed and reached for his hand. “Your mom was there, too?”

He blinked at her like he hadn’t noticed she was also in the room, and then tears overflowed his eyes. He threw himself into her arms. “Izzy!”

A fist tightened around Rylan’s throat as he watched her hold the small boy, rocking him gently and soothing him with whispered words of comfort.

She’d make a great mother someday.

The thought struck Rylan like a physical blow, and he had to look away. He focused on the heart monitor beside the bed, on the too-fast beep beep beep that matched the racing of his own pulse.

“Noah,” Izzy said gently and set the boy back at arm’s length. “Tell us what happened. Where are Grace and your mom?”

Noah swiped at his tears with the back of his hand. “I-I don’t know. The bad men came to the cabin and took us away. They put us in a room that was dark and cold and echoey. There was a gross mattress on the floor and a toilet in the corner without a seat.”

Rylan remembered the mattress. Landing on it hard enough that he bounced…

“Did you see the men who took you?” Izzy asked.

“No, they wore masks and they didn’t talk to us. They just brought us food and water two times a day, but Grace said it might be drugged, so we didn’t eat very often. We were just… left there in that room alone.” His gaze shifted to Rylan. “Until you showed up.” A small, shaky smile flitted across his lips. “You got your arm back.”

“Sure did.” Rylan crouched beside the bed and held out his prosthetic so the kid could watch it make a fist. And, for a second, he saw the flash of the twelve-year-old boy under the terror.

“That’s sick! You’re, like, a cyborg.”

“Not quite. It’s just a prosthesis. It’s attached by a custom socket that fits over what’s left of my arm. Inside, there are electrodes that pick up signals from my muscles. When I flex or move them, the arm reads the signal and moves the way I want it to—like making a fist, see?” He demonstrated again, the mechanical fingers curling smoothly.

Noah’s eyes widened, his fear momentarily replaced by fascination. “Can you, like, crush stuff with it?”

Rylan chuckled. “It’s strong, but it’s designed for control, not super strength. Mostly, it helps me do normal things, like pick stuff up.” He demonstrated by picking up a straw from the tray table and poking it into an unopened juice box.

“Sick,” Noah said again, impressed in the way only a twelve-year-old boy could be as Rylan handed him the juice. “When you told me you had a Terminator arm, I didn’t believe it.”

The smile slid from Rylan’s face. He exchanged a glance with Izzy before taking a seat on the bed across from her. “Noah, I… I don’t remember telling you that or being in that room with you. Whatever they did to me, it kind of erased those days from my mind. Can you tell me what happened when I was there?”

The boy hesitated, his gaze darting to Izzy, who nodded encouragingly, then back to Rylan. “I think they were hurting you. They’d take you away, and when you came back, you’d have more bruises. They… they were scared of you, I think. I heard them talking in the hall once after they brought you back, and the one guy said how you didn’t know anything, and they should just kill you. The other guy— I think he was the leader—said how they couldn’t because it would make people suspicious. But then they took you away again, and you didn’t come back. Grace thought you were dead, but I knew you weren’t. You promised to save us.”

Rylan’s heart constricted painfully in his chest. He had made a promise to this kid - a promise he couldn’t even remember making. And yet, looking into Noah’s trusting eyes, he knew he would do whatever it took to keep that promise. To find Grace and Monica and bring them home safely.

“I’m going to keep that promise, Noah,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “I will find them. I will bring them back to you.”

The door creaked open, and Ash stepped in, followed by a woman in perfectly pressed slacks and a crisp blazer. Her dirty-blond hair was pulled back into a severe bun that made her sharp cheekbones look like they could slice meat. She exuded an aura of authority as she strode into the room, taking up the space like she had every right. Her sharp blue eyes swept over Rylan and Izzy before settling on Noah.

“Noah Holt?” she asked in a raspy smoker’s voice. “I’m Special Agent Justina Callahan with the FBI. I’d like to ask you a few questions about what happened to you and your family.”

Noah shrank back against the pillows, his eyes wide and fearful. Izzy placed a protective hand on his arm.

“With all due respect, Agent Callahan, Noah has been through a traumatic ordeal. He needs time to rest and recover before being subjected to more questioning.”

Callahan’s gaze flicked to her. “And you are?”

“Isabella Delgado. I’m a friend of the family.”

“She’s Monica Holt’s Power of Attorney,” Ash said, and Izzy looked at him like she was surprised he knew that, but she recovered quickly.

“Yes, and I’m also listed as Noah’s legal guardian in Monica’s will.”

Rylan could tell that saying it out loud pained her. She didn’t want to consider the possibility that her best friend was already dead, but she also wasn’t going to let Agent Blazer, here, steamroll the kid.

Callahan’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Well, Ms. Delgado, I understand your concern, but this is a federal investigation. I need to gather information while it’s still fresh in Noah’s mind. Every minute counts if we want to find his mother and sister alive.”

Rylan stood, placing himself between the agent and the bed. “How about we take this into the hall?”

Callahan appraised him coolly. “And you are?”

“Rylan Cross. I’m with Izzy.” He felt her eyes snap to him at the declaration, but he didn’t look in her direction to see her surprise, instead keeping his attention fixed on the agent.

Callahan’s perfectly manicured eyebrow lifted a fraction. “I assume that means you’re also a friend of the family, Mr. Cross?”

“Something like that.” He didn’t elaborate.

The agent studied him for a long moment, then gave a curt nod. “Very well. Let’s talk in the hall.” She turned on her heel and strode out of the room without waiting for a response.

Rylan glanced at Ash, who shrugged. “Don’t look at me. The feds are calling the shots now. I’m just here for moral support, apparently.”

“Comforting,” Rylan muttered. Ash wasn’t exactly built for moral support. He glanced back at Izzy and Noah. “I’ll be right back, buddy. You just rest and let Izzy take care of you, okay?”

Noah nodded, his eyes still too wide and too scared. Izzy gave him a grateful look, mouthing “Thank you” as he followed Callahan and Ash out into the corridor.

The moment the door clicked shut, Callahan rounded on them. “I don’t know what kind of operation you’re running here, Sheriff, but this is now a federal case. That means I’m in charge.”

“How is this federal?” Rylan asked before the temper he saw brewing in Ash’s eyes could boil over. “The kids didn’t cross state lines.”

If the twitch of her eyelid was any indication, Callahan really didn’t want to answer, but after several stubborn beats of silence, she relented. “Monica has been an informant for the Bureau, providing us with intel on Julian Graves. When she disappeared, we feared the worst. Now that Noah’s been found, we’re hoping to piece together what happened and find her.”

Okay, that took a turn he hadn’t seen coming. He wondered if Izzy knew. Probably not.

“An informant?” Ash said, disbelief and anger warring in his voice. “And you didn’t think to clue me into that before now?”

“Graves is well-connected, and any leak could have cost Monica and her kids their lives.”

Rylan’s jaw tightened. “And yet here we are.”

Callahan’s eyes flashed. “Monica knew the risks when she agreed to help us. We did everything we could to keep her safe.”

Rylan scoffed. “Yeah, you did a bang-up job of that. She’s missing, her daughter is still being held hostage, and her son— her twelve-year-old —just had to abandon them and flee for his life. Real five-star protection there.”

“Watch it, Cross,” Callahan warned. “You don’t know the full story here.”

“Then enlighten us,” Ash said, crossing his arms. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like the FBI dropped the ball big time. And now my people are left to clean up your mess.”

Callahan’s nostrils flared. “I’m not going to trust a police department that’s under investigation by the attorney general for corruption.”

Ash reared back like he’d just been punched. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You don’t know.” A slow, satisfied smirk crossed her face. “I suggest you turn on a TV, Sheriff.”