Page 104 of Taken Off Camera
My brain refuses to process what I’m hearing, creating a disconnect between recognition and understanding.
“Micah?” Sebastian prompts. “What’s going on?”
I reach out to clutch his arm as I lick suddenly dry lips. “Is this Travis I’m speaking to?”
Sebastian sucks in a sharp breath, and Gabriel freezes.
A high-pitched giggle fills my ear. “Looks like I’ve got your attention now, Elliot.”
The room shrinks around me, walls pressing in as my vision narrows to a pinpoint.
Sebastian says something, his mouth moving, but the words don’t register through the roaring in my head.
Saint, my constant protector, the one person who’s always stood by my side, is now in danger because of me.
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The room spins, my grip on reality slipping with each word Travis speaks.
In front of me, Sebastian’s expression shifts from confusion to alarm, but I can’t focus on him over the roaring in my ears and the threat of the man who has my best friend.
“I can hear you breathing, Elliot. Or do you prefer Micah?” Travis’s words carry a sing-song quality that raises the hair on my arms. “You didn’t say, and your little friend wouldn’t tell me which one you like better.”
My tongue feels swollen, too large for my mouth. “Where’s Saint? Let me talk to him.”
A shuffling sound comes through the line, followed by a muffled thump and a groan thattightens my chest. I know that sound. I’ve heard it from Saint before, back when we were younger and the older kids in the group home decided we needed to be taught our place.
“Saint can’t come to the phone right now.” Travis’s breathing quickens with excitement. “He’s a bit tied up at the moment.”
Sebastian reaches for the phone, but I turn away, holding it tighter to my ear. “If you hurt him?—”
“You’ll what?” Travis cuts me off. “Send your Alpha dog after me? I can smell him through the phone, Elliot. That rich, entitled prick who put his hands on what’s mine.”
Gabriel appears at Sebastian’s side, his casual demeanor replaced by the coiled readiness of a predator. He taps his wrist, reminding me to keep Travis talking while he traces the call.
“What do you want?” I ask, forcing the words past the lump in my throat.
“You.” The simplicity of his answer chills me more than any threat could have. “Alone. No Alpha scent anywhere near you, or your friend loses fingers. Then toes. Then, other parts he might miss.”
I bend forward, fist clenched over the pain building in my stomach. “How do I know Saint is still alive?”
Another shuffle, then Saint’s words spill through the speaker, ragged but defiant. “Micah, don’t you dare?—”
His words cut off with a sickening crack, followed by a strangled cry that turns my stomach inside out.
“Saint!” I scream, panic clawing up my throat.
“Thirty minutes,” Travis says, turning businesslike. “The coffee shop on Elm Street in Brickwell. Come inside, order a coffee, and sit by the window. Alone. If anyone else comes, your friend dies.”
“Give me an address now,” I demand, desperation pushing past my fear. “I want to see Saint.”
“Coffee shop first. Then I’ll call with the next step.” His breathing quickens again, excited by my distress. “Don’t tell that Alpha who’s been hovering around you. Don’t bring him. Don’t call the police. Thirty minutes, Elliot. The clock is ticking.”
The line goes dead, and silence crashes down around me.
“Micah.” Sebastian pierces through my panic. “What did he say?”
My phone slips from my numb fingers, and Sebastian catches it before it hits the floor, his scarred face tight with concern.
