The Sinners of Saint Amos - Logan Fox Page 0,225

as blood rushes back into them. I have to fight back a sudden influx of thoughts about what would have happened if I’d sat here and waited until my feet turned blue, and then black.

I push up, swaying on the mattress, and then hurriedly step onto the floor. I test the knots around my wrists again, but they’re still tight, and my hands are aching from untying my ankles.

I give one last violent tug, growling with frustration behind my gag, and somehow lose my balance.

If it hadn’t been for the mattress, I’d have cracked my elbow against the concrete floor. But thankfully I land on something soft instead. I lie there for a second, wondering how the hell I ended up here, and then start to push up to my feet again.

But then I realize my hands are by my hips. Still bound, but…maybe, just maybe…

I roll onto my back, lift my knees to my chest, and loop my bound hands under my butt. It takes time—wriggling and swearing and sweating—but eventually I get my hands out in front of me.

I’ve chafed my wrists so much I smell blood in the air, but now that my hands are in front of me, I can take off my gag and my blindfold.

Shouldn’t have wasted those precious seconds, though. It’s so dark in here that it doesn’t matter if I have a blindfold on or not. I can’t even tell the difference between opening and closing my eyes.

But with the gag out, I have access to my teeth. And they can grip the nylon ropes a hell of a lot better than my fingers.

I’m shaking with cold by the time I get my hands free, but I’m so giddy with relief I barely notice.

I slowly turn around, blinking hard as I take in my surroundings. Maybe it’s my imagination, but I think I’m starting to see faint shapes in the dark. Maybe there is a little bit of light down here after all.

I go slow at first as I start to explore. I don’t want to bump my bare toes into anything, or knock over something that could make a noise.

But the more I explore, the more frantic my movements become.

Especially once I hit the first wall of the small basement I’m in.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Rube

“I need to get gas,” Cass says.

I point. “Go down there.”

“Oh my God, Rube, seriously. Do you want to push this thing? Because I—”

“Go down the fucking road.”

An edgy silence fills the SUV’s cabin. We’re all staring out the windows, trying to spot a white van, a head of dark curls, the slightest thing out of place.

We’ve been driving around for almost an hour.

I don’t want to call it—refuse to—but we all know she’s gone.

Cass goes down the road I pointed out, but as soon as he reaches the next intersection he doubles back and heads for the gas station we passed about a mile back. He does it without a word, but making sure he doesn’t catch my eye in the rear-view mirror either.

Guess I wouldn’t be surprised if this got physical.

If the tension eating away at my insides is anything compared with my brothers, then there’ll be nothing left of us come dusk.

We have to find her before then.

If the sun goes down before then, she’ll be lost forever. That’s all I can think. We have to find her before dark. Have to find her before dark.

I should be figuring out how to find her, not what will happen if we don’t.

The moment Cass stops the car at a pump, I’m out of the door. I go inside the convenience store, buy a packet of cigarettes, a soda. Zach comes in behind me. He grabs some chips, a six-pack of ginger beer, and another packet of cigarettes. We don’t look at each, don’t speak. The clerk ringing us up keeps sending us a wary look through her lashes as if she’s considering triggering the alarm behind the counter.

Cass is still pumping gas when we get back. Zach tosses his bag into the back seat and climbs up without missing a beat.

I head for a picnic table a few yards away, lighting a cigarette en route.

Grit crunches under shoes behind me, but I don’t turn around. “It’s Gabriel, isn’t it?” Apollo says.

I grunt non-committally, and then turn to face him as I pass him my cigarette.

He shrugs before taking it. “I’m thinking he paid someone to put up that article online. Paid that lawyer chick to handle everything