Page 73 of Hold Him Like Gravity

He couldn’t exactly keep a guy chained to a chair, likely thrashing around, maybe screaming when he took the duct tape off to feed him, in the basement of an apartment building where others might hear him.

Jake was likely hidden somewhere else.

An abandoned building, most likely.

The burn of tears threatened but I squeezed my eyes shut, refusing to give in to them.

It wasn’t over.

This was still a huge lead.

I could still follow Kyle or his men from this apartment building to wherever they were holding Jake.

Then I could still follow through with the plan.

Call the police. Get my brother back. Come clean to Rico. Start over again. No fear of Kyle. No more lies.

Determination renewed, I made my way back up the steps. My footsteps felt heavier than ever, though. Hell, my soul felt heavier as I made my way out of the stairwell.

I checked around, then made a mad dash to the front door and out of the building.

I was about to head back to the subway, to go home, take a hot shower to chase off the chill, get something to eat, when the front door of the apartment building flew open.

I panicked, thinking it was Kyle, that I was found out.

I ducked into the coffee shop next door and watched, my heart in a vice.

But it wasn’t Kyle.

Or that other guy from my apartment.

No.

No.

It was Jake.

Jake was walking out of the building.

No handcuffs, no tape, no bruises, no blood.

No nothing.

“No,” I gasped, falling deeper into the shop as he moved to the end of the sidewalk, waiting for a few cars to pass before jogging casually across the street.

No no no no no.

This… this couldn’t be happening.

How was Jake walking around freely? Out of the building where Kyle was clearly living?

The answer came to me as soon as the question formed, though.

My brother had never been a prisoner.

He hadn’t been chained to a chair and tortured by my ex.

He was working with him.

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