Flash Point (Kilgore Fire Book 2) (22 page)

I would almost call it convulsions if he didn’t look like he was clear headed.

“Shit!” he cried, his eyes locking on the clock. “It’s time to put the flag out or someone will notice I’m not me today.”

I didn’t bother to tell him he wasn’t making sense, maybe he’d realize it on his own.

Maybe he’d also leave me here by myself and I could slide out the door without him noticing.

If I could leave,
I thought to myself.
My arms aren’t working right.

“Get up, grab that flag next to the bed,” he ordered.

I got up, and not prettily, either.

I had to roll over on my side, which made my body scream in protest.

I then had to get up to a sitting position on the side of the bed, letting my feet hang off as I panted for breath.

According to the doctor and the X-ray tech, I didn’t have anything broken.

It sure felt like it, though.

Every part of my body hurt, my head being at the top of the list.

With one final heave, I got to my feet.

“God, you’re so fucking slow,” Dash growled, grabbing the flag himself. “If you can’t keep up, maybe I’ll have to tie you up.”

“No,” I blurted. “I’m coming. Is there anything else you want me to take?”

He shook his head and shoved the folded up to perfection flag into my hand and pushed me.

“Get going,” he ordered.

I went, even though I had no idea where we were.

“Dad’s at the donut shop and mom’s doing books in the office at the shop, so there is no one to hear you if you scream,” Dash said.

Something in his tone of voice made me glance over my shoulder, and my heart shuddered in my chest as I saw the huge, gleaming knife he had in his hand. “And if you scream, I’ll stab you in the throat, got it?”

I got it. Oh, how I got it.

Nodding, I walked forward, winding my way through the house, listening to his directions as I went.

“We’re going into the backyard. It’ll take us to the flag pole that’s on the side of the house,” he said.

I went out the back door, carrying the flag with care as I did.

The backyard was sparse, as was the house, making me wonder if anybody even lived here.

Surely there would be something, but I just shook my head.

This whole situation was kind of screwy.

“Do you know how to raise a flag?” He glared, poking me in the back with what felt like the knife, but I couldn’t be sure without moving.

And if I moved, I might get stabbed in the back, so I chose to stay where I was.

“Yes,” I whispered.

“Good,” he backed up. “I have to go get the water hose. Don’t do anything stupid,” he ordered.

I nodded and he left me.

Taking the time to unfold the flag nicely, really having no earthly idea what the hell I was doing, I hung it up.

Quickly I realized it wasn’t right ways up, but then a glimpse of a conversation I’d had with Booth when he’d first gotten news of his deployment flashed into my brain.

“What’s the significance of an upside down flag?” I asked Booth.

He shoved a Christmas Tree Cake into his mouth and looked at me.

“You don’t know what an upside down flag means?” He teased.

I shook my head, rolling my eyes as I did.

“No, I have no clue…which is why I asked you what it meant,” I reminded him.

He grinned, pieces of sprinkles clinging to his lips as he did.

“It’s not really an ‘official’ sign of distress, but some people use it as such,” he explained. “An upside down flag represents a country or individual in distress. Someone that needs immediate help.”

“Is it illegal?” I asked.

“No,” he said. “Most military know what it means. What pisses people off, though, is when there are protests and shit that have people purposefully using it upside down, which is a sign of disrespect.”

“So don’t put the flag upside down unless I’m really in distress, got it,” I said, eyes widening with humor.

He pinched me on the ass. “Right.”

Knowing Dash might very well see what I was doing and kill me, I took the chance anyway.

Hopefully someone would see it.

If Booth was still across the street, I knew he would.

He noticed everything.

Booth

“Dammit, fuck, damn, shit,” I snapped, pushing away from the table where the helpful neighbor, John Goates, showed me the video. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” John apologized. “I wish I could offer more help.”

“You did everything right,” Luke said. “Wish we could’ve seen more.”

I rolled my eyes at Luke.

So much for letting me do what I needed to.

The man hadn’t let me out of his sight since I’d gotten here.

“You’re welcome,” John smiled. “I know one other person on this street that has the same system, but he’s out of town for Thanksgiving.”

I nodded.

That was how life worked, wasn’t it?

Offering him my hand, I walked out shortly after with Luke at my side.

“Now what?” I asked Luke.

“Now you let me get my detectives on it,” Luke expounded. “I’m not one, and I won’t try to be. Flores and Butcher are good, though, so you have nothing to worry about. If there’s something to find, they’ll find it.”

My eyes went skyward as I scoured my mind for answers, but I froze as I saw the flag on the neighbor’s flag pole.

That hadn’t been like that when I’d gotten here earlier.

Dozens of scenarios filtered through my brain, but all I kept coming up with was one thing.

Luke’s voice filtered into my thoughts, but I couldn’t stop where my mind kept going back to.

My eyes focused, coming to a rest on Luke as he walked to his car with his phone to his ear.

I just knew I had to stop him.

“Luke, would you hold on a minute?” I asked him.

Luke stopped on his walk to the car and turned to face me.

I, on the other hand, walked towards him, bringing my phone out and hitting ‘dial’ as soon as I pulled the phone app up.

“Hello?” A strange voice said.

“Give me to Masen,” I ordered quickly, a faint sickening feeling twisting my guts.

“I’m sorry sir, but who is this?” The woman asked, authority leaching into her tone.

“This is her fiancé,” I said. “Now tell me who this is.”

I heard scrambling on the other line and then a deep male’s voice say, “This is Detective Flores, I’m at the hospital, but your fiancé no longer is.”

And I knew.

I knew whatever was going on, she wasn’t okay. This wasn’t a case of her leaving on her own. She knew the risks associated with the brain injury she had. She would not just leave the hospital because she felt like it. Not without a damn good reason, anyway.

“Motherfucker!” Luke bellowed, pulling my attention from the man telling me my woman was missing. “What the fuck? She had two seasoned police officers on her. How could they let her slip through their fingers?”

A sick knot of fear started to lodge in my throat, and my eyes edged towards the flag once again.

“Luke,” I interrupted him, surprised at how even my voice had sounded when I knew there was a whole bunch of rage at the end of my words.

Luke looked at me, sensing his attention was needed here, and not with whomever he was speaking to.

“Yeah?” He asked, eyes intense.

I gestured to the flag.

“Whose house is that?” I asked.

He looked at the house, then his gaze wandered to the flag.

The fucking upside down flag.

He opened up his notebook that he had in his hand and started to scan.

However, my eyes were attracted to the front window and the flick of the blinds.

Swallowing thickly, I said, “We need to act like we’re leaving. Calmly.”

I don’t know why, but my instincts were screaming at me to take this easy. To not bring attention to the house in front of us.

If I tipped them off that I knew something was wrong, whomever was in that window would do something extreme.

And if my gut instinct was correct, my woman was the one who would suffer.

I couldn’t really tell you why I knew she was in there…but I just knew. I knew she was in there with every cell in my body.

Luke nodded, hearing what I was saying. “Let’s go. You get on your bike, I’ll get in my SUV, and we’ll head to the end of the block.”

Relief poured through me knowing Luke understood me as well as he did.

We’d only been working together for a short time now, a few months at most, but we understood each other and worked well together.

We both had instincts honed to perfection from the extensive military training we had, and it was more than obvious he was willing to listen to my instincts, even if any sane man wouldn’t have flagged on something like this.

I got on my bike and drove away.

It was the hardest thing I’d ever done in my life, but I did it.

I came to a stop near where Masen had been in the accident with the deer, knowing damn well that I probably should’ve gone further.

However, I couldn’t make myself.

I just couldn’t.

“What’s up, Booth,” Luke asked the moment we stopped.

I shook my head.

“I don’t know how, or why, but she’s in that house. I just know it,” I told him.

He studied me for a long moment, then nodded once.

“We’ll call in the team,” he answered instantly.

Relief poured through me, and I watched the street as the team was called.

I’d only been on one op with the whole force of the SWAT team, but countless training scenarios.

And as they arrived, I knew they’d do everything in their power to help me.

Put your laundry away, or I’ll punch you in the face.

-Masen’s secret thoughts

Masen

“Cocksucker,” Dash said, dropping the window treatment to turn around and stare once again at the stupid wall. “He’s going to get me killed.”

My mouth dropped open wide.

“So why do this?” I indicated the area around me where he’d tied me down.

We were in his parents’ house, I now realized.

Dash’s parents’ house mirrored my parents, and even had the same old crappy wallpaper in the kitchen, which happened to be where I was now being held.

“You took one of the letters,” he snapped. “And I couldn’t be sure you wouldn’t share it. I couldn’t have them finding out.”

I thought frantically.

“I’ve never gotten any mail that wasn’t mine to get. And if I had, I would’ve delivered it to the rightful people,” I informed him somewhat frantically.

He glared at me.

“I know you have it,” he bared his teeth. “I saw your trash. You opened it.”

I blinked.

The man was fucking insane.

What did I say to that?

Had I opened his mail?

I didn’t think so. But that didn’t mean that I didn’t…if not only out of habit.

“They still send letters, but I missed something. They’ve become more and more insistent lately. They said something important was in the one you stole, and I can’t figure out what it is. So I need you to tell me, or I’m going to kill you,” he hissed, holding a letter opener and wiggling it in my face.

My mind raced.

This had to be the most ludicrous thing I’d ever witnessed in my life.

He’d kidnapped me, over a fucking letter. A letter that’d come to my parents’ house, no less.

What do you even say to something like that?

Obviously sorry wasn’t going to cut it.

And I wasn’t sure that anything would cut through that fog of ‘fucked up’ that was swirling around him.

“Tell me about the letters. What should I remember?” I asked hesitantly.

“It’s from Tyler Azalea Health,” he gritted out. “About my brother…Dash.”

My eyes widened.

It was then I knew just what kind of predicament I was in.

Earlier, I’d had false hopes that I was at least dealing with a rational being. Then he’d said ‘about his brother, Dash’ and I knew something more was wrong here.

A knock on the front door had me sitting up in anticipation.

“Must be a package,” Dash muttered. “Don’t move. If you scream, I’ll kill the mailman. Not that I wouldn’t enjoy doing it since I want his job, but that should be enough of a deterrent for a God-fearing woman such as yourself to keep your shit together.”

I did, indeed, keep my shit together.

I didn’t say a word as he left the kitchen and entered into the living room.

In my mind’s eye, I followed his movements, tracking exactly where he’d be.

He went to the door, I heard him unlock it, and then I heard a loud crash as the door opened. The sudden, loud noise startled me, and I cried out in surprise.

“You said you wouldn’t do anything!” I yelled. I just knew it was Booth. I knew he would find me.

“No,” Booth said after one well aimed punch to my kidnapper’s face, knocking him smooth out. “I specifically remember saying I’d come after you if you ever left me.”

I slumped into my chair, only then allowing myself to remember just how sore I really was.

Everything ached, even the healing wound on my belly that was now the least of my problems.

“What took you so long?” I snapped at him.
      

My voice sounded about as wrung out as I felt.

“Talking to a man about the mail,” he hedged as he walked to me slowly, almost as if he was afraid to see what I looked like.

Hell, I was afraid to see what I looked like.

Finally, he flipped on the switch for the light as he passed, making my eyes flinch closed at the sudden brightness.

Then he flinched at the site of me.

“I look that bad?” I asked, knowing I did.

“You don’t look that bad,” he lied. “Are you tied with rope?”

He circled around my body, then hissed at the site of my arms.

Yeah, I’d been trying to get away for about an hour now. My wrists probably resembled something close to raw meat.

I could also feel the blood running down my hands, as well as hear the drip-drip of it hitting the floor.

It wasn’t fast, but it was a constant sound that had started worrying me the moment it began.