Page 4 of Gambit
“Keep this quiet,” Raphael orders, returning more composed than when he left.
“Understood,” Lucas nods, his face set in grim determination. The door closes behind him with a soft click, but the echo of it thunders in my ears.
“Eliza...” I start, the image of her striking green eyes and that cascade of chestnut hair flashing before me, grounding me in the middle of this chaos.
“Will be pissed as hell when she finds out we let this happen,” Raphael finishes, a smirk twisting his lips despite the shitstorm of the situation. “So, let’s not keep her waiting.”
“Yeah.” I push the fear back and replace it with the cold fire of retribution. “Let’s tear the world apart until we find her.”
“Then we make Franks pay,” Raphael says, a lethal promise. “For taking her. For touching our world. For thinking he could use her against us.”
I follow James’s movements across the Entrance Hall and up the stairs. “Where are you going?”
“I need a minute.” He waves me off like an annoying fly, not even looking back.
“Whatever,” I mutter and turn back to Raph. “Big guns need to be deployed. This is bigger than us.”
“Yeah, I hear you. Dad will rally when he knows Eliza is missing.”
“Fuck.”
“That doesn’t cover it, brother. That doesn’t cover it at all.” He drags his phone out and disappears into the kitchen to make the call, leaving me and Oliver to head back into the living room.
“You really had an affair with a professor’s wife?” he asks, arms folded as he glares at me,
“For starters, it was one night, and she came onto us at the Rusty Anchor, clearly out looking for it. We were nineteen and idiots. Of course, we said yes when she offered. Didn’t know she was recording it and didn’t fucking know it would come back to bite us on the ass. Franks never uttered a word. We assumed he never knew, and we all went on with our lives.”
“Well, it’s bit Eliza on the ass, not you two,” Oliver points out, making me growl with frustration.
“Yes, I’m aware, thank you, Captain Obvious.” My patience is wearing thin, the edges fraying like a rope about to snap. “Weneed to focus on finding Eliza, not rehashing old conquests.” I pace back and forth, feeling caged.
Oliver cocks an eyebrow at me, his expression unreadable. “We need to act fast, Tarq. If Franks has Eliza, he’s either doing it to get back at you and Raph, or he’s after something bigger, or both. Whichever way, she’s in danger.”
“Yeah, let’s just hope Dad can help.”
Oliver nods, and we fall into a grim silence until Raph comes back with news that reinforcements are on the way.
3
ELIZA
With my headthrobbing like it’s been split open, I blink awake. The rough texture of the bed beneath me scrapes against my skin as I try to move, but something bites into my wrists—zip ties. I’m on a bed in some place that smells musty and old. The wallpaper peels away from the walls, and there’s a chill creeping through the grimy broken windowpane, showing daylight.
I lift my head, my eyes scanning the room, taking in the sparse furniture and the dust dancing in the slivers of light cutting through the gloom.
Professor Franks.
He’s standing by the window, his body rigid, like a coiled spring ready to snap. I can’t see his face, but the way he’s got his hands behind his back tells me a lot. He doesn’t give a crap.
The abduction comes flooding back to me, and my head swims. He must’ve injected something into me to make me pass out.
“Where am I?” My voice comes out stronger than I feel, echoing slightly in the small space. I don’t let my fear show, but I want him to know I’m awake. I’ve faced worse than this man,with his tweed jacket and the smell of academia clinging to him like a second skin.
Franks doesn’t turn around. He just stands there, a statue of coolness, staring out at whatever’s beyond that grimy glass. I strain against the zip ties, feeling the bite against my skin, but I don’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me struggle. I won’t be cowed by a man who spends his days lecturing about dead people.
“Eliza,” he finally says, his voice like gravel. “You’re awake.”
“Observant,” I shoot back. Keep him talking. “Care to tell me why I’m tied up in this charming abode?”
