Deserted - Cara Dee Page 0,110

out of here.”

Gray smiled.

Jackie took on a pleading look. “I’m not gonna mess this up, and I don’t want you and your friend to get caught. Is there anything I can do? Something else? I can help, I swear it. I won’t lose my chance.”

“Hey, it’s all right.” Gray patted the guy’s arm soothingly. “There might be something, but we’ll wait to see how you’re feeling when those two shitheads are dead. Okay?”

“Okay, but whatever it is, count on me.”

A rush of hope filled Gray. Maybe this would work out, after all.

Jackie would undoubtedly crash-land once he was in the arms of his family, but for now, his high spirits and determination meant the world.

He was a fighter.

Twenty-One

“ETA, ten minutes. He’s driving through Twentynine Palms now,” Darius said, closing the front door. “I parked the ATV behind the trailer—on the other side of the fence.”

“Okay. Jackie’s in there. In the trailer, I mean.” Gray rolled up the sleeves of his long-sleeved tee and glanced around the hallway and into the kitchen. Everything was in place. “He asked me not to get him until they’re both dead.”

“Got it.” Darius toed the edge of the rug with his scuffed boot, adjusting it so it covered the latch to the cellar. “Remember, no broken bones. It’ll show up in an autopsy.”

Gray studied Darius for a beat as he walked through the house for a final check. Something was bothering him. He frowned harder than usual, he was tense, and he’d repeated his instructions one time too many by now.

“What’re you worried about?” Gray closed the distance and palmed Darius’s cheek. “We’ve got this. Compared to everything we’ve handled before, this is nothing.”

“I know, it’s not that.” Darius pressed a kiss to the inside of Gray’s hand. “I should’ve gotten you a fake driver’s license. That way, we would’ve been able to fly home and secure our alibi.”

“Do you honestly believe we’ll need to?” he wondered. He’d seen Darius’s own fake identification. “I have faith in Jackie to leave us out. He doesn’t even know your name. And I told him—in case he accidentally mentions my name—he can play it off as delusions. Mixing up reality with dreams. And it wouldn’t be farfetched, you know that.”

Darius sighed and pulled him in for a hug. “I’m just antsy. I want it to be over.”

“Me too, but we’re almost there.” Gray tilted his face up, and Darius dipped down and kissed him. “You get into position in the kitchen. I’ll be in the bedroom.”

Their options to hide inside the house were limited, due to the windows and how easy it was to peer in from the front of the house. For Darius, it left one spot. He’d have to crouch down under the kitchen window. And for Gray, it meant hiding in the only room that had curtains.

“Wait for my signal, Gray.”

“I will,” Gray answered, somewhat patiently.

He disappeared into the bedroom where Buck was. The old curtains with flowers on them had been drawn already.

Gray drew a deep breath and made sure his knife was easily accessible, and then he eyed Buck. This fuckin’ guy… He stared back with a mix of trepidation and indifference. With his mouth taped shut firmly, he couldn’t do a whole lot, and he seemed almost okay with it.

“I lied earlier,” Gray admitted. “Part me always wants to understand. Even now. I want to understand how you could just let this happen. Because with Chester, it’s kinda simple. He’s fucking deranged. He’s sick. But you…? Are you lazy? Do you lack empathy to the point where you allow your brother to hold an innocent guy hostage in a cellar…as long as you get to hide out from the police? I don’t get it.”

And he probably never would.

At the sound of tires crunching on gravel, Gray buried his desire to figure the bastard out. It didn’t matter anymore. They would never hurt another soul again.

Buck grew restless in his chair, and Gray smirked faintly.

“Feel free to scream when Chester comes in,” he said. “He’ll head straight here, and Darius will be able to sneak up behind him.”

Buck narrowed his eyes and glared.

Gray snorted and turned his back on him to get ready. Blade easy to grab, a strip of duct tape prepared on the doorframe.

His heartbeat kicked up and thrummed a little faster as the front door opened.

“I’m home!” Warren called. “Bucky, are you in the back? I’ve had the worst week… Where are—” He let out a short yell when, presumably,