Aftermath (19 page)

Tim seemed to be thinking the same thing, because he subtly nudged his shoulder to Austin's when they approached the top of the landing.

Meanwhile, Mr. Insane was focusing so intently that sweat began to trickle down his neck, appearing under the mask. "No funny business," he said, pushing the heavy door open.

Austin and Tim bided their time, not wanting this fight to happen mere inches away from a fall down the stairs. Their eyes were fixed on the man who had taken them from their families months prior.

This was it. They had to take this chance, or create it.

Perhaps their kidnapper was getting cocky, because this was a grave mistake. He clearly wasn’t aware of just how unafraid these guys had become of the prospect of getting shot. Tim and Austin had
nothing
to lose. Really, the crazy man should've brought them upstairs one by one.

When they reached the little vestibule with three other doors, Austin and Tim took a collective breath as they watched their target slowly reach out to the keypad, though he still kept his eyes on Austin and Tim.

But there was that one flicker of a second where the kidnapper had to make sure he'd punched in the correct code.

Gun or no gun, Austin and Tim charged.

Austin was crazed with fury and desperation as he rammed into the madman. He heard the shot that rang out, but he barely registered the bullet piercing his flesh, lodging deeply in his bicep. He barely felt the shocking pain that exploded and spread throughout his body, either.

The taste of possible freedom overrode any fear.

With his shoulder pressing forcefully into their kidnapper's collarbone, Austin slammed his forehead against the man's nose, causing him to stumble back. The trigger was pulled again, and Tim shouted a curse. But Tim wasn’t deterred, either. While Austin pinned the psycho and tried to harm him however possible, Tim struggled to get the guns, which wasn’t easy without use of his hands.

A third shot echoed painfully loud in the small space just as Austin managed to put all his body weight into a shove that broke the madman's arm against a doorframe. It bent in an odd way, a hoarse scream filling the air, and one gun dropped to the ground.

Before they could free their hands, Tim just kicked the gun aside and went to the other side to get the second gun.

"Justice will prevail!" the kidnapper screamed.

"Count on it," Austin growled, struggling to keep the man pinned to the wall. "You sick bastard." Fatigue and pain were quickly taking over, but he refused to surrender now. Through the closed door that led to the basement, they could hear the shouts of their fellow captives. "Jesus Christ." The man managed to knee Austin in the gut, though Tim defended him by ramming his shoulder into the kidnapper's throat. It was a good thing he was so freaking tall.

"Sam and Frank deserve to die." Mr. Crazy's voice was a choked breath.

"We're not them!" Tim shouted and finally managed to get control of the second gun. It was dropped to the floor, and without wasting time, he and Austin pulled their prey down to the ground. "Sit on him."

Austin did better than that. His ass hit the ground and he planted his elbow into the madman's upper back. Austin's arms burned, his hands aching to be free, but this had to do for now. The kidnapper was facing the floor, several feet away from his guns, and he had a sharp elbow keeping him in place.

So, while Austin made sure their captor couldn’t move, Tim moved around in search of the keys.

"This isn't over," the madman wheezed out.

"That’s for damn certain," Austin grunted. "You're still breathing."

"Found them!" Tim fished something out of their kidnapper's back pocket, which turned out to be the keys for the handcuffs. "I fucking found them!"

Cam rubbed his wrists, now free from the bandages, as he waited for Gale to start the group session. Due to his appointment at the hospital, he was early, but a few of the other guys were already here, too. Chase was one of them, and Cam had given him Remy's letter just to have it over with. He'd explained briefly that Remy had contacted him, wanting to get in touch with Chase, and that was that. Now, Chase was sitting on the other side of the waiting room outside Gale's office, staring quietly at the unopened envelope.

"Huntley's not coming?" Victor asked, probably 'cause Cam and Austin usually showed up together.

Cam shook his head no and drummed his fingers on his thigh. He didn’t feel like talking, so he didn’t. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t thinking about Austin's reason for not being here. 'Cause he sure as fuck was.

Austin hadn't shown up again on Saturday, nor on Sunday, nor on Monday. But they'd kept in touch through texts and calls, and Cam knew all about the separation and the divorce.

He couldn’t deny it; he was relieved for selfish reasons. Whenever Austin called him, ranting, bitching, yelling…just unloading, Cam was merely satisfied it was to him. Apparently, it was pretty frosty between Austin and Jade, though they maintained a united front for Riley's sake, and now they were rushing to move on from each other.

Jade was gonna move in with her parents in Delano for a while 'til she found her own place. First, she was gonna get settled in at her new job, which she started in three weeks, according to Austin. And today, she was having a girls' day with Riley. Austin had told him that they were gonna make copies of all their home movies, make scrapbooks of photos that didn’t have albums, and…some other shit. Meanwhile—the reason Austin had to cancel on today's group session—he was gonna look at an apartment not far from where Cam lived.

One reason for the rush, other than the fact that Austin and Jade wanted to get this over with, was that Riley started her new school year soon, and Austin wanted to be settled before then. So, he wasn’t picky—as long as Riley could have her own room. It was supposedly temporary, this apartment business, but Cam hadn't asked any further questions. He was just stoked Austin was looking at apartments near Cam's house.

Thinking ahead, he realized that meant a new school district for Riley, so that could also be a reason to hurry. Changing schools was never fun, but it would suck even more if it happened once the semester had already started.

As far as Cam knew, Riley's only demands were to stay in Bakersfield with her dad and that she would be relatively close to her old friends.

Just as Sean showed up and nodded in hello, Cam's phone vibrated with an incoming text from Austin.

Can I spend the night at your house? Tomorrow, too. Jade's turning the house into a showcase home for the Realtor's photographer, and my parents are picking up Riley in a few hours.

They really weren’t wasting time, Cam mused as he typed out a response.

It'll cost ya.

The reply was almost instant.

The Realtor or spending the night with you? I think I can manage.

Cam grinned to himself and pocketed the phone. He hoped he'd see Austin soon, like right after this session. They both had a lot to do today, but because Austin had to cancel now, he'd made an appointment with Gale for right after. Seeing each other in passing wouldn’t hurt.

Later today, Cam was driving over to the garage his brother owned. Having never been a big spender, he still had plenty of savings, but he missed getting his hands dirty. He missed the smell, and he missed the tinkering. It had always taken care of his fidgeting in the past. To see a car roll in, then locate the issue and fix it—yeah, he fucking yearned to go back. Especially with old cars, the vintage beauties. Not that they didn’t cater to others; it was a big garage, and Landon had a crew who knew a lot.

Whether it was big trucks with air-brake system failure after a cross-country drive, motorcycles in need of brake pad replacement, vintage cars where the ignition sometimes gave you trouble since yesterday's technology wasn’t as advanced, or tow service, Landon's guys could handle it. And Cam had his own nook in the large bay where he took on problems that made the others throw in the towel.

For someone who lost his patience so quickly, he had it in abundance when it came to cars. He
understood
cars. There was logic in engines. It was black and white.

Once upon a time, Cam had studied theology for five years to understand religion, and he still hadn't gotten his fucking answers. His parents were religious to the point where they went to church on holidays, and Jules had grown up in a strict Catholic family, though no one could really tell even if they knew her. But Cam couldn’t see the big deal. He relied on science, straight answers, and logic. He had tried, though. No one could say he hadn't.

And if religion was bad, what could he say about psychology? Christ, he really hated coming here, though it was necessary. He might not understand how Gale helped, but she did nonetheless. After some sessions, he felt raw and turned inside out, but it kept him sane. The way past pain was through it. Bottling it up would destroy him.

"Did youse read the interview in yesterday's paper?" Lance asked. He'd been the last to arrive, and Cam knew this was his last session. He'd decided to move back to New York, back to Staten Island, and who could blame him? Lance had moved here for a job in construction two years ago; that probably wasn’t enough to outweigh the bad memories he now lived with.

After all that time in a basement that smelled of mildew, Lance had even become asthmatic.

Some of the guys murmured yes; they'd read the interview, but Cam tuned it out. He knew all too fucking well that Psycho's older brother and mother were throwing around kind words like propaganda. He didn’t need to read the details.

"The bitch said he was a straight-A student and a perfect son," Victor said, scoffing. "Perfect, my ass."

It was like this before every group session. The guys would gossip and curse about the interviews, and Cam and Austin would sit there in silence, trying to ignore it all. Actually, Chase was quiet, too. Cam's own theory about Chase's silence was that he felt guilty—for a stupid goddamn reason—'cause he hadn't seen the inside of that torture room. He wasn’t the only one who hadn't. Cam figured they should just see it as a small blessing, but, re-fucking-gardless, they'd been through hell, too.

Cam shook his head and looked down at the scars on his wrists. Blessing.
There's some divine shit right there
. Fucking religion.

"Yo, Cam." Lance jerked his chin. "Where's Austin?"

"Elsewhere," Cam said flatly.

He didn’t particularly like these guys. Then again, he didn’t like many.

Thankfully, Gale opened the door to her office then, saving him from
chit-chat
. There were few things worse than meaningless conversation.

"Come on in, guys." She smiled, flashing white teeth with lipstick traces.

As always, Cam sat down in the loveseat in the corner—where Austin usually sat with him—and he avoided getting close to anyone else. The office wasn’t very big, so it was a tight fit when seven, now six, other dudes crammed themselves in. Gale sat down in front of her desk, Tim and Sean occupied a small couch, Lance and Victor in two chairs, and Chase sat down on the floor by the door, even though there were a couple more chairs available.

To Cam's knowledge, only Tim and Sean, who'd been cellmates, had formed a bond much like Cam and Austin had—although he doubted theirs was more than friendship. Chase, for instance, had shared his cage with Victor, but there was no attachment of any kind.

"Last time, we talked about the two days at the end where you were left without food and water," Gale said, clasping her hands over her notepad. "Today, I thought we could talk about your last night." Her gaze traveled to Cam, and she smiled gently. "Oh, that’s right. Austin isn't here." She then looked to Tim. "Why don’t you start? You and Austin managed to gain the upper hand."

Cam fiddled with his phone as Tim reluctantly recalled the events that ultimately led to their escape. Cam wasn’t really doing anything with that fucking phone, but he needed to keep his fingers occupied. He was forced to listen, and each man had different recollections of that night. Cam himself remembered the dread as he'd waited and hoped to see Austin alive.

*

Cam paced by the door to the cell, tears streaming down his cheeks, not that he really noticed. He was too busy trying to breathe.

He'd heard three shots ring out, and there had been commotion for several minutes after.

Did he even dare hope Austin was still alive?

"He better be," he muttered to himself and wiped his damp cheek against his shoulder, cursing the cuffs behind his back. "He fucking better be."

A couple things didn’t add up. Firstly, Cam hadn't heard a single noise from the times others had been tortured, yet he could clearly hear something now. Secondly, the shots confused him since they were followed by thumps, shouts, and what appeared to be bumping into walls.

Cam hated how fucking desperate he was—that he was hanging on to a few odds and ends which could mean a struggle with a new outcome. 'Cause it could, couldn’t it? The fact that he could hear some kind of fight had to mean they were closer, that they weren’t in the torture room, right? And Cam couldn’t imagine Psycho "planning" the torture just outside the door on the first floor. Or wherever they were.

"Tim and Austin are fighting him—that has to be it," Sean said, though he didn’t sound very confident. "We can't die down here. They gotta fight him."

"Shut the fuck up!" Cam kicked the door. "Like it's their fucking responsibility? That's funny, dude—'cause I haven't seen you even try to put up a fight."

"Whoa, I didn’t mean—"

"Whatever," Cam spat out. "Just keep your mouth shut." His head was pounding; the guys practically taking bets on what was going on only made it worse. Fuck. He needed to see Austin now.