Page 94 of Wrecked for Love
His stare could’ve burned a hole through me. “Seriously?”
“Your shoes are two sizes too big. My braced foot will fit, and I’ll double up socks on the other.”
Muttering something about stubborn fools and bad decisions, Hank shoved his boots toward me.
I slid them on, inhaled through the pain, and stood. The pressure on my leg was sharp, but I could walk. It was enough.
Hank stood back, watching me. “Well, I’ll be damned. You actually look like a regular man again. Just one who’s gonna collapse any second.”
I managed a smirk. “That’s the trick, Hank. I only need to make itlooklike I can keep going.”
He eyed me warily. “Let’s hope you don’t have to prove it.”
I pushed forward, striding toward the front door and ignoring the steady shocks of pain through my leg. “Did they find my truck?” I asked.
“Yeah…it’s, uh…” he trailed off, fumbling for words like he was trying to piece together some advice he knew damn well I wasn’t going to take. “I’ll get it.”
He fetched my truck and brought it around, coming to a stop right in front of the porch.
“Hank, keys.” I held out my hand.
“Let me come with you,” he pleaded.
“No. You stay the hell away from this,” I said sharply.
“Dammit, El! You’re gonna get yourself killed,” he muttered, frustration bleeding through every word. But his eyes told me everything I needed to know. He knew there was no stopping me now.
I stepped closer and put a hand on his shoulder, trying to ease the tension. “Can I trust you?” I asked.
“Of course!” he shot back, sounding almost insulted.
“Then don’t tell anyone,” I repeated. My look made it clear—this wasn’t just a request. It was about survival.
Reluctantly, Hank handed over the keys, and I wasted no time hopping into the driver’s seat. My leg screamed, but by now, I’d gotten used to its cries. I gripped the steering wheel, focusing on what had to be done. I had to start with the only lead I had—the intel from that boy, Daniel.
That kid had been a godsend, though he was just a mule for Lucien’s notes to me. He must’ve been scared out of his mind and backed into a corner with no choice but to run their dirty errands. Daniel had seen Armand Voss tucked away at a secret house. The bastard was far from mobile now, stuck in that damn wheelchair. He needed round-the-clock care.
The Vosses had always been careful. But Armand? I’d stake everything on the fact that he wasn’t straying far from the comfort of home and certainly not tagging along like some entourage or welcoming committee for The Revenants.
I followed the map Daniel had sketched. People said he was a bit slow, but his sharp memory captured every detail. He’d done well biking these winding roads while I clenched my teeth with every turn.
The destination couldn’t come fast enough—the two ponderosa pines, the green metal fence, and the looming, dark house.
I stepped out of the truck. This gamble—this one shot—was all I had left.
And it paid off.
“On your knees!” I barked the order as soon as I burst inside. Fritzy, spoon in hand, had been feeding Armand.
“Mr. Lucas…I’m so sorry,” Fritzy stammered. “They threatened to kill me. I had no choice.”
I wasn’t buying a word of it!
“Where’s Claire?” My voice was a growl full of barely controlled fury.
“I don’t know, man!” Fritzy’s panic rose, and in an instant, he shoved Armand’s wheelchair toward me and bolted.
My body was still on fire, but I wasn’t going to let him slip away. I sidestepped Armand’s wheelchair, every muscle hurting like a motherfucker. But I forced myself forward and chased after Fritzy. He was fast, too far ahead, but I wasn’t planning on catching him with my legs.
