Page 118 of Gambler's Fallacy

“They’re not going to hurt him,” I say with more confidence than I feel as I grab a pair of hiking boots in my size. “They want him too badly.”

“They already hurt him,” Havoc answers roughly. He takes apair, checks the sizes, then grabs three boxes. “They hurt him every single fucking day he was with them.”

I grimace. He’s not wrong. “What are you doing?” I demand. “Now isn’t the time to be shoe shopping.”

“I’m not going to try them on here,” Havoc says. “I’ll buy them all and test them in the car.” He turns toward the hiking section. “Go find sensible pants and shirts we can sweat through. I’ll grab some other supplies.”

He jogs off, leaving me to do his clothes shopping for him.

I look after him in disgust, but I don’t stall. I find shirts and pants in our sizes, going into the changing room and pulling on a better shirt and pants. I rip the tags off and grab my dress clothes, heading to the front to meet Havoc.

No one questions me about wearing the clothes out.

He has two backpacks with water flasks inside, along with sunscreen, sunglasses, binoculars, hats for both of us, a fucking compass, and paper maps.

“Are those going to help?” I ask dubiously.

“Better than relying on our phones.” Havoc and I pay for everything and rush back to the car. We toss everything inside haphazardly.

“Are they still moving?” I ask once we’re on the road again.

“Yeah, but they’re slowing down,” Havoc says. He takes his sneakers off and reaches for one of the pairs of hiking boots he bought. “You have a gun in here, right? And a knife?”

“Yeah,” I tell him. “A whole ‘murder kit,’ I think Caleb calls it.” I shake my head. “Caleb. I hope he hasn’t done anything stupid and gotten himself killed.”

They won’t kill Seven. I’m sure of that much. Too many millions have been flaunted in attempts to retrieve him. But Caleb? That, I don’t know.

Havoc is quiet while he awkwardly gets changed. He shimmies into his new clothes and starts slathering sunscreen on himself.

“Sorry about your sister. Glad she’s okay,” Havoc says quietly. “The bastards shouldn’t have involved her.”

I haven’t gotten any messages from Connie yet, so I have to assume that she’s at the hospital and being taken care of. “Yeah,” I say, my voice rough. “I don’t…” I nearly choke on my words, and my grip tightens on the steering wheel. “Why the hell did Seven go into the parking garage to begin with when he knew he was being watched? What was hethinking?”

“He doesn’t think,” Havoc mutters darkly. “He got caught up in whatever the fuck was happening. Just like—” He makes a frustrated sound. “Fuck. This is because Caleb texted his location.”

I glance at him, then turn my attention back to the road. “He couldn’t have guessed Seven would be so…” I hesitate. I don’t want to saystupid, but I really do want to bend him over and give him a solid spanking when we get him back.

“Take this turn,” Havoc says suddenly. I look where he’s pointing, but I don’t see a road.

No road, but there’s a small break in the desert brush that could maybe resemble a path. Fuck. I do a sharp turn with my SUV, taking us off the paved highway.

Away from the safety of real infrastructure.

“You’re sure about this?” I ask Havoc.

“No. But it’s the only path on this side of the mountains,” Havoc answers. “My phone doesn’t have reception anymore, by the way.”

Of course it doesn’t.

Today keeps getting better and better.

TWENTY-SEVEN

CALEB

I don’t recognizeany of the three men who are tying us up. I don’t know where we are, either, which is equally worrying. “Somewhere out in the desert” is not a good place for Seven and me to plan our escape from.

“Why’d you grab him?” one of the men asks. He’s Latino, with short cropped black hair and a diamond tattoo on his exposed shoulder.

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