Page 47 of Captivated (Salvation #3)

Chapter Forty

That’s not Toby.

Robert stood with his back to the wall, watching as a nurse adjusted the oxygen mask over Toby’s face while another one started a second IV line. He lay half-naked beneath the fluorescent lights, his chest rising and falling in a broken rhythm.

He looked so wrong .

Every time Toby sucked in air, a portion of his ribcage actually sank inward, as though something had caved in.

On the exhale, that same spot bulged out, almost as if it didn’t know which direction to go anymore.

His skin was pale, waxy, glistening with sweat, his lips tinged blue.

His right arm was encased in plaster. There were bruises blooming across the left side of his chest and shoulder, angry and deep, as though something had crushed him.

The bruises matched the cold steel of the trauma team: focused, sharp, fast. Someone was calling out vitals in clipped tones.

Heart rate elevated.

Blood pressure dropping.

Oxygen saturation unstable.

Toby didn’t speak. He couldn’t. Every breath seemed to take everything he had. His eyes flickered open just long enough to meet Robert’s, as if to say I’m still here before they drifted shut again.

The room buzzed around him. A cardiac monitor beeped in chaotic bursts. Tubing snaked out from his arms and chest. A ventilator stood by his side, humming softly.

Waiting to take over if his lungs give out.

The words of the medical team stacked up in the air, heavy and clinical, but all Robert could see was Toby—his broken, barely breathing Toby—fighting for air.

For life.

Robert clenched his fists, his heart hammering against his ribs as though it could break too.

This isn’t how it was supposed to be.

“I want to find whoever did this and tear them apart,” he whispered.

“And I’ll be right there with you,” Teague muttered. “Along with a few others, I shouldn’t wonder.”

“Mr. Thorston.” Dr. Ramirez spoke in a low voice.

“Doctor.” Robert didn’t turn to look at him, filled with the irrational fear that if he took his eyes off Toby, something horrendous would happen.

Something more horrendous than what’s already happened.

“I’ve been informed that the police are downstairs at the front desk.”

Teague tugged Robert’s elbow. “They might know who did this.”

Robert couldn’t move, his feet rooted to the linoleum floor.

“Robert.”

Finally he glanced at Teague. “I can’t leave him.”

“Yes, you can,” Dr. Ramirez told him in a gentle tone. “We’re about to take Toby down for a CT scan. Then surgery, and from there he’ll be moved to ICU where he’ll be intubated.”

Another tug on his elbow. “Robert.”

He expelled a shuddering breath. “Okay.” He gazed at Dr. Ramirez. “I can see him once he’s out of surgery?”

“Yes, but visitors are limited in ICU. I’d recommend getting some rest first. If his condition changes, you’ll be informed immediately.”

Still he couldn’t move.

Teague sighed. “You can’t do anything for him right now. They’re taking good care of him. But we need to know what happened.”

Robert nodded. “You’re right, of course. Let’s go talk to the police.”

And hope they have answers.

Teague led him from the room, his feet like lead. Sol was in the hallway. He inclined his head toward the door to Zeeb’s room.

“Nate won’t budge but the nurse said he can stay a while.” His face tightened. “How’s Toby?”

Robert swallowed. “A fucking mess. I want the bastards who did this strung up by their balls.”

What he really wanted to do to them would probably have him in a jail cell in a heartbeat.

On several murder charges.

What shocked him was he had no qualms about that.

“The police are at the front desk.” Teague pointed to the door. “You staying here or coming with us?”

“I’ll come with you two. I need to pour some coffee into Nate. He must be exhausted, after driving all the way from Boise. This will wipe him out.” Sol scowled. “Not exactly a great way to start a new life.”

They headed for the elevator, and Robert did his best to suppress the tremors ricocheting through him.

Hang in there. Toby needs you.

Teague’s hand was at his back once more, and Robert was grateful for the connection. The doors slid open, and he spotted the uniforms instantly. He strode over to join the two officers.

“I’m Robert Thorston, from the Salvation ranch.”

One of the officers nodded. “Officer Hank Brenner. This is Officer Lia Dunn. Can I see some ID?”

Robert handed it over, then indicated Teague and Sol. “This is Teague McKay, my ranch foreman. And this is Sol Davenport. He also works at the ranch.”

Officer Brenner gestured to an area with two couches. “Let’s go over there.”

As soon as Robert’s ass connected with the couch, he launched, his voice tight.

“You got something to tell me, or are we still playing wait-and-see?”

“We’ve just come from the post office.” Officer Dunn’s voice was low and calm. “We spoke to Donna Walters. She was behind the counter when it happened.”

“We’ve identified all seven of the men who attacked Mr. Merrow and Mr. Nolan. One of them works there.” Officer Brenner consulted his notes. “Clancy Yarwood. He’s the one who disabled the post office security cameras before it started.”

Sol gaped at them. “He shut ’em off before ?”

Officer Dunn nodded. “Yeah. It looks premeditated.”

Teague shivered. “Jesus.”

Robert was on autopilot. It was the only way he could function right then.

“You bringing them in?”

Officer Brenner nodded. “They’re being picked up now. We’re questioning each man separately. We expect to make arrests by morning.”

“Is this being treated as a hate crime?”

Sol’s words hung in the air.

Officer Dunn cleared her throat.

“We’re looking at that, based on what Donna told us. Montana doesn’t have a state-level hate crime law the way some other places do, but federal statutes still apply. If this was motivated by who Toby and Zeeb are, we’ll push it up the chain.”

Sol scowled. “They weren’t just beaten up. That was a damn message. Toby could’ve died for Christ’s sake, and they just left him. Except that’s not true. Technically they didn’t leave him—they ran like the fucking cowards they are. He isn’t out of the woods yet.”

“We know.” Officer Brenner’s expression was grave. “We’re taking it seriously.”

Robert clenched his fists. “Toby needs surgery. He can’t breathe. He’s sustained what could be a fatal injury. They don’t know yet if Zeeb’s brain is swelling.” He gritted out the words. “You don’t go after folks like that unless you’re trying to make an example.”

“Or send a warning,” Teague blurted.

Officer Dunn replaced her notebook in her pocket.

“We’ll keep you in the loop. Once we’ve got statements, we’ll push for charges. Assault, conspiracy, possibly attempted murder. And once Mr. Merrow and Mr. Nolan are able to talk to us, we’ll take statements from them too.”

“We’re not letting this slide, Mr. Thorston,” Officer Brenner assured him.

Robert tightened his jaw. “Better not.”

Silence fell, heavy and awkward. In the distance, a nurse’s voice echoed over the intercom.

“You need anything from us?” Teague asked.

“If you remember anyone who had issues with Toby or Zeeb—recent arguments, threats—call us.” Officer Dunn’s face was equally grave. “It doesn’t matter how small.”

Robert frowned. “Far as I know, nobody had a bad word to say about either of them, but I’ll think on it. In the meantime…” He fixed them with a hard stare. “You do your job. And make sure these men don’t just disappear into the system.”

Officer Brenner stood. “We will.”

“I hope Mr. Merrow and Mr. Nolan make a speedy recovery,” Officer Dunn added. Both officers gave a nod, then headed for the door.

“I don’t think a speedy recovery is likely, do you?” Robert leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. Sol placed his hand on Robert’s shoulder.

“Toby’s tough, Robert. So is Zeeb. They’re not done yet.”

Robert didn’t look up.

“Neither am I.”