Touch And Go - Aiden Bates Page 0,22

see me.

I shut the door behind me and put my hands on my hips, still catching my breath. “What’s going on? 911? You look fine.” Aside from his vegetables of choice.

“Oh, I look fine?” Eli scoffed and adjusted the bag of corn with a wince.

“Is our brother fine?” I asked Owen, who nodded, and got another elbow to the ribs for it.

“What happened with Seb?” I dropped my bag and wiped the sweat from my brow with the back of my wrist, still catching my breath.

“Your little boyfriend is a wildcat, that’s what happened. Next time you want a favor, ask one of the others.” Eli pulled the peas away from his face just long enough for me to catch sight of a nasty black eye.

My head was spinning. “Boyfriend? He’s absolutely not my boyfriend. Tell me what happened.”

“I won’t be able to have kids after what he did to my balls.”

“Can one of you tell me what the fuck is going on? Please.” I crossed my arms and shot my best stern look—eyes narrow, thin lips, nose flared—as my blood reached its boiling point.

I was about to blow, and Owen knew it. He lifted his head and widened his eyes. Spewed the facts in a monotone designed for information delivery without emotion. Per his usual. “I was recruited to lend some paramedic assistance for the black eye and the squashed balls…after we got the prisoner locked up in the main bathroom.”

I froze. Oh, shit. They’d taken prisoners? My stomach rumbled. “What prisoner?”

“I did what you asked me to do.” Eli cleared his throat and tilted his head from one side to the other, like he was loosening up for a fight. “Followed him home—”

“Sebastian.” Owen nodded and smirked.

“Yeah, Seb.” Eli’s head bobbed agreement and the peas in the bag rustled with every move of his head.

“Seb is in my bathroom?” Oh, no. Oh, hell no.

“That’s right.”

“Locked in my bathroom?” The words kidnapping and abduction flashed like neon in my mind. I glared at Eli. “You have about two seconds to explain before I—”

He held up his free hand. “Calm down.” Then he cleared his throat. Stalling. “Well, to be completely honest…I might have lost him for a few hours, but then I found him on the bridge and—”

My stomach dropped. “Fuck. He was going to jump.”

“Unlike you with your quick conclusions, I don’t think so.” Eli scratched his nose with his pinky. “But he stumbled backwards into traffic, looking all freaked out. That’s when I found him again, and I trailed him back to his apartment. He was acting weird, like he was in a Bond movie. Which, well, I guess he was kind of right to be cautious.”

My throat tightened, and I squinted at Eli, waiting for more information on whether Seb was okay. When it didn’t come, I walked closer and rolled my hand to encourage him to hurry the fuck up and be more forthcoming. “He was right to be cautious? What does that mean?”

“When I walked into the dude’s apartment, some guy had a gun pointed to his head.”

I steadied myself with a tight grip on the back of an armchair and closed my eyes. “Okay. A boyfriend? Big guy? Shaved head, tattoos? Named Pete?”

I ignored Owen’s wide eyes and open mouth, already well aware I knew way too much about my patient’s backstory. Instead, I focused on Eli who scratched his nose again as he thought about it.

“I don’t think so, bro. The guy with the gun wasn’t acting like a jilted boyfriend. More like hired muscle working a hit. I got there as he was about to pull the trigger. I knocked him out. No ID, nothing on him, seemed pretty professional. The apartment was trashed, and clearly unsafe for Seb to stay there, so I had to get him out of there. But he put up a little bit of a fight. Just a teensy little tantrum.”

“A tantrum?” I tightened my grip, and my jaw clenched.

“Eli took him against his will.” Owen smirked as he spoke then got an elbow for it.

I tried to remain calm. Tried. Didn’t exactly succeed and my voice was louder than normal as I spoke. “Define ‘took,’ please.”

Eli’s twitchy grin betrayed the solemnity of his voice. “Kidnapped. Hauled him over my shoulder. Caveman style.”

“What–! What the fuck, Eli?” A life of dedicated “first do no harm” service shot to hell. I had a quick vision of prison bars and orange jumpsuits.

“You see what he did to me