Page 64 of Don't Let Go

Laughter drifted down the line. “Maybe after you brush your teeth.”

I could do that.

The walk took me past several buildings we’d already visited and tagged. The sheriff wasn’t standing out in front of his office anymore. But I made no mistake of thinking they weren’t watching me. There were more locals out—some sweeping, others smoking like I had been and still more just sitting and watching.

Older guys could do that in small towns. It wasn’t creepy at all. There’d been some towns like this back when I lived on base with my parents. Dad got moved, we moved with him. Some of those little towns had their own rules, a practical fiefdom.

They didn’t like newcomers, but if you showed up, they beat the rules into you and you kissed the ring they wanted you to kiss. Unless the locals were fewer and farther between, then the brass ring might just be there for the taking

Yeah, this shit felt all too familiar and I hadn’t been a fan of it then and I wasn’t a fan of it now. I was almost to the mechanic’s shop when I spotted him. The glimpse I’d gotten earlier seemed damn familiar.

That mother fucker being here changed the game.

“Don’t freak out, Sugar Bear,” I said quietly. “Running silent for a bit.” Then I shut off the comm before she could respond. Not the most politic, but right now, I didn’t want her as a part of this conversation.

Not with this asshole.

Not even by third hand proxy.

“John McQuade,” the older man said as I approached. He stood there, practically at parade rest. His hair was still trimmed to military standard and his manner expected—no demanded— respect. “It’s been a long time, son.”

“Not long enough,” I said, not bothering to add the “sir.” He didn’t deserve the respect. Not from me. Not from anyone.

“John, John, John…” He practically tsked. His men weren’t quiet. They kicked up a lot of noise racing at me from behind. The retired general’s expression didn’t shift one iota from its bland smile as his guys hit me from two sides.

I took the hits, rolling with them. Right now, I wanted the information I could get out of them. Sometimes, you just had to take a hit.

“Bring him inside,” the general ordered and the beating stopped almost immediately. Not that it was much of one. Fuckers had steel toed boots and they didn’t use them. Good for me, but damn stupid on their part.

Each one grabbed an arm and lifted me up. I played dead weight, forcing them to do all the work as they dragged me inside. It didn’t take long for them to remove my gun and hang me from the ceiling in shackles.

As techniques went, not bad. Definitely not efficient though. The strain of my weight would eventually dislocate my shoulders. In a few hours maybe… could take a whole day.

Once I was strung up, Abdias Stone, retired general and all around lunatic, strolled up to me. He had a cigar in one hand and he sported a new scar on his face. Almost improved his ugly ass mug.

“It seems we have a bit of a problem, John,” he said, almost conversationally.

“Well, if you’re looking for a light, ‘fraid I’m all out. But if you find one, I got cigarettes in my back pocket.”

Stone’s expression hardened. With a careless wave, he sent his goons toward me again. The big guy on the left had a wicked left, but his right was ass. Probably a shoulder wound, a tear… I could work with that. Every other blow managed to knock the breath out.

Second guy was a lot leaner, shorter, and all muscle. He had solid punches and he knew where my kidneys were better than I did. Probably gonna be pissing blood after this.

Better make it worth that.

“Enough,” Stone said, and the men backed off immediately. Well trained little soldier boys. Yeah, I was never that trained. Following crazy because it gave you an order and had rank didn’t make it any less crazy.

I twisted, my toes scraped against the floor of the mechanic’s shop. The smell of old oil and grease gave it a familiar air. But then so did the cordite and sulfur. They weren’t just working on cars in here.

“John,” Stone said again. “I don’t really want to spend a lot of time inflicting pain on you. I don’t want to spend any time on you at all.”

“That makes two of us. So, why don’t I just head back to my car and we can go back to pretending we don’t know each other.”

The mad general gave me a small, thoroughly insincere smile. “That doesn’t really work for me.”

“It was worth a shot.” I didn’t try to stabilize myself. Instead, I just relaxed my muscles. The bruises along my abs and back were gonna hurt like a bitch. Better to give it a break for the moment.

“Of course, and I would have been insulted if you hadn’t asked. Just as you would have been insulted if I allowed you to do so.” He sounded perfectly reasonable, conversational almost. We might as well be discussing our plans for a meal. “Now that we’ve gotten the pleasantries out of the way, I need you to answer some questions for me. You will cooperate.”