Page 62 of Wrecked

“You did?” That surprised Crow, normally the cleaners don’t let anyone inside. “How’d you manage that?”

Winter grinned and took another bite. “I have my ways.”

“You have connections,” Rip said, interjecting with a snort.

“Maybe.” Winter didn’t elaborate.

Rip settled on the bed on the other side of Crow.

“You really ok?” Rip asked.

“No. I need to find Rebel.”

“We will. And as soon as we do and you guys get to the ranch, things will fall into place.”

Crow shook his head. “I’m not so sure the ranch is the best thing for Rebel.”

“What do you mean?”

“I want him to have a chance at a normal life,” Crow said.

“What does Rebel want?”

And that was the question, wasn’t it?

When had he stopped long enough to ask Rebel what he wanted?

Crow knew the answer.

He hadn’t.

Rebel screamed so long that he almost lost his voice.

Crow was dead.

He fucking felt it to his soul.

He’d seen Crow go down and that meant that Jimmy’s men had beaten Crow when he was already unconscious.

Their sadistic laughter was all he remembered hearing.

Fucking animals.

This was his fault. Somehow, he fucking knew it. If he hadn’t taken that job with Jimmy then Crow would have never been killed.

If he hadn’t made that pass in the Jacuzzi, then Crow would have been dressed and armed with his weapon.

He hated that the last words between him and Crow were said in anger.

“I didn’t mean them,” Rebel whispered, his throat raw.

On his knees, he gripped the toilet bowl and gagged up bile.

A few hours ago, he had been dumped into a room he wasn’t familiar with, and judging from the view from the window, it was not Jimmy’s Hollywood Hills home.

Mostly, they had left him alone.

Except for the cameras at two different angles in the corners of the ceiling.

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