Page 48 of After All The Wreckage

“After your brother was investigated for being behind the Philly train bombing?” Bradshaw offered up.

It pissed me off all over again. The fact the FBI had suspected me just because we’d tried to warn them. The fact that this detective might have used the train derailment against me when I’d reported Monte missing last night. As if it was a reason my brother might have run away.

But losing my temper wouldn’t help our cause. Like Rory had said, I had to keep it together so I didn’t alienate them. So they didn’t just let the men who’d taken my brother get away with it.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Gage

WHEN THE CHILDREN CRY

Performed by White Lion

Monte pulled away from me,indignant at the detective’s insinuation about the bombing. “My brother is the best human being on this planet. They had no right!”

“What happened to Monte this weekend has nothing to do with the past,” I grunted out.

The detective glanced at me and then turned back to Monte. “Where’d you stay Friday night?”

“I holed up on a rooftop. I thought I might be able to see Dunn again over the weekend, but he never showed up. I had to stay. I had to get his attention,” Monte said, shoulders slouching.

“So you went back to the Capitol on Saturday?”

Monte nodded. “A couple of times. And to that building on Independence. You know, where his office is at.”

“When did the men take you?”

“I’d gone to the fast-food joint around the corner to use the restroom and grab some food around eight or so on Saturday night. It was dark, but I’d never really been scared before, you know. There weren’t many people in the alley and the rooftop had been quiet…”

He trailed off, and my heart lunged.

“They must have been waiting for me because they came out of the shadows as soon as I rounded the corner. I fought…” Monte looked up at me, eyes full of anger and indignation. “I fought, Gage. I swear…”

Another sob choked him.

“Listen to me,” I said, squeezing his shoulder. “You did nothing wrong. You have nothing to be ashamed about, Monte. Nothing.”

He wiped his face again.

“What can you tell us about the assailants?” Bradshaw asked.

“They were big. Like as big as Gage. Black masks. They both had dark eyes, or I couldn’t see any other color in the dark. Black clothes. One of them had a gun, but he never pulled it until we were going down the stairs into a basement and I wouldn’t stop fighting.”

“How long were you in the car until you reached the location where you were held?”

Monte shrugged. “I don’t know. Not long. It felt like maybe fifteen minutes. I couldn’t see, but I kept searching until I found the child safety handle in the trunk, but they’d disabled it or something because it wouldn’t pop open.”

I was so proud of my brother for thinking of those things. Fighting. Trying to get away. But I was also furious that he’d had to do any of it.

“When they pulled me out of the trunk, I could hear water splashing and smelled the river, you know. Like it was close? The ground was blacktop, or at least it wasn’t dirt. It was hard. Thedoor they opened sounded metallic, like a roll-up door. We went down steep stairs, and it was cold and damp, so I assumed it was a basement. I struggled with them on the steps… I didn’t want to go down. I thought… I thought they were going to kill me. And when they yanked the hood off and shoved a gun in my face, I r-r-really thought it was o-o-over.”

God damn it. I could feel his fear wafting off him, and it made me want to strangle the men who’d taken him all over again. It also meant Ivy was probably frantic. But I couldn’t call the day care center. Not yet.

“Were they still wearing masks?” the detective asked.

Monte nodded. “Every time I saw them, they wore them. Once they got me down into the basement, they zip-tied me to some old pipes. One of them came down later and brought some water. But I was afraid to drink it. I didn’t know if it was drugged… I didn’t want to sleep in case…”

His cheeks turned a furious shade of red, and it magnified the discoloration there. My fingertips bit into my arms so hard I thought I’d leave marks.