Page 44 of His Middle

“B-but, I…” His mouth had gone so dry he could barely form words. “I don’t know about any cash. Jonathan hasn’t worked here in months, I have no idea where he is, I swear!”

“Don’t think I don’t know why that thieving fuck suddenly disappeared,” he snarled. “He’s in hiding with the money he borrowed against the club and is leaving his boyfriend to cover for him.” He huffed. “Like I’d actually believeyou’rethe real owner of the club. He’s got everyone lying for him.” The guy yanked Noah’s arm up behind his back. “Let’s see if he pays so he can get you back.” Noah’s attacker drew closer, his fetid breath filling Noah’s nostrils, making him more nauseous than he already was. “If not, then maybe tossing you off a bridge will scare him enough to have a change of heart. What do you think?”

“It’s a mistake! The real lie is the one Jonathan told you about being the owner. He wasneverthe owner, my dad was. But now he’s, he’s…”

Noah’s bottom lip quivered as his panic built. This guy was never going to believe him, and Jonathan wouldn’t give a shit if Noah was tossed off a bridge. If he didn’t somehow fight off this wall of murderous flesh threatening him, he’d be dead.

Why hadn’t anyone noticed he was missing?

“Come on you little shit. I’m tired of fucking around.”

The guy started dragging Noah by his bent arm, Noah scrabbling against the gravelly, filthy ground, hopelessly trying to gain purchase as he fought the brute strength of his kidnapper.

“No! Wait!” He sucked in a deep breath as he was dragged farther away from the back door and into the darkness from where his attacker had emerged. “Hel—!”

A meaty hand was slapped over his mouth and he bit and kicked and fought with all his might. His shoulder was wrenched in the struggle and tears sprang to his eyes.

He was no match for this beast, this thug bent on getting what he wanted, even at the expense of Noah’s life.

Daddy, where are you?

* * * *

Sawyer stuck his head in the kitchen. Noah was supposed to have taken out the garbage then come meet him in the office. What should’ve taken ten minutes at the most had already turned into twenty. He didn’t want to be grouchy with him if Noah was chatting with one of the staff, but damn, Sawyer was more than ready to get out of there.

Sawyer chuckled to himself. He’d thought for sure the promise of a blow job when they got home would’ve helped Noah stay focused and keep his eyes on the prize.

When he didn’t see Noah immediately, and noticed that the back door was shut, he frowned. If Noah was still outside, the trusty back door crate would’ve been propping it open. Sawyer stepped all the way in the room.

And the crate would’ve been brought back inside when he was done.

Perhaps he was overreacting, but he hadn’t liked what Noah had shared with him regarding a strange man who wouldn’t leave his name, asking Arlen who the owner was. He also wanted to give Jonathan a piece of his mind for not only abandoning Noah, but for telling whoever this person was that the club belonged tohim.

Something about the whole scenario ate at Sawyer. Something was off.

After checking the small kitchen—even the walk-in and storage area—and there being no sign of Noah, fear began to worm its way into his gut.

Where the hell is everyone?

Not even the cook was there. No sooner had the thought entered his head, when Bruce, the night cook, entered the kitchen from the bar door.

“Oh, hey. You looking for Noah?”

Sawyer almost fainted from relief. Maybe he needed to dial back the over-protective Daddy behavior.

“Yeah. I guess he already finished taking out the trash. He’s probably in the club somewhere.”

Bruce furrowed his brow. “Yeah, I guess. I don’t remember him coming back in, but the door’s closed and the—” The creases on his forehead deepened as he wandered toward the back door. “That’s weird.”

Sawyer’s stomach clenched. “What is?”

Bruce pointed to the table next to the giant trash receptacles. “The key to the dumpster padlock. It’s not on the hook, like he never took it with him. And the crate—”

“It’s not inside where it should be.”

Sawyer gritted his teeth then shoved against the long bar of the door, bursting into the alley. Immediately, the sounds of a scuffle met his ears, the muffled cries and shoes scraping the asphalt coming from the darkness about ten feet away.

“Noah! Are you out here?”

---