Page 21 of How to Hack a Hellhound (Hellhounds of Paradise Falls #2)

Chapter 21

Quinton

I came back to awareness slowly. My head felt heavy and thick, and I realized when I tried to move that I was tied to a chair.

Motherfucker. Fucking Cassius and his fucking vague-ass shit. Couldn’t he have warned me that the “bad thing” was me getting kidnapped again ?

Fuck. Fuckity fuck fucking fucker.

I struggled a bit with my bound hands, but each wrist was zip tied to a side of the chair, and my ankles were zip tied too. I could topple the chair easily enough, but I didn’t think I could break it, and falling over and possibly getting injured didn’t seem like the wisest course of action.

I took a deep breath. Ok. I was ok. Liam would come and find me. He would always come find me, and I wasn’t going to die or get maimed or injured.

Fuck. Cassius hadn’t said anything about a little torture. I really hoped I wasn’t in for some non-permanently damaging torture. I mean, permanently damaging torture would be bad, of course, but I really didn’t want any torture whatsoever.

Not a fan of pain. Nope. No torture necessary.

A door in front of me cracked open, and someone stumbled in, falling lightly to the ground. I thought I recognized the brown curls, and I realized who it was a second later.

“Emmett?” I asked. “Is that you?”

He looked up. “Fuck. Q? They got you, too? Oh my god, are you ok? Do you know what’s happening?”

It was Emmett. He was one of the group of people I hung out with and went clubbing with. We weren’t particularly close, and we probably wouldn’t have been friends if not for hanging with the same crowd. We’d gone to battle once or twice over the same hook-up, and I was only a little smug that I was usually the victor. But it wasn’t the time to think about that.

Because, you know, kidnapped and all that.

“Untie me,” I demanded, shifting the chair around a bit.

He crawled over and felt around my ankle, pulling at the zip tie.

“I can’t, Q. They’re zip ties. I have nothing to cut them with,” he said.

Fuck. “Did you see who took you?” I asked.

He shook his head, then said, “What do you know? What’s going on? What’s going to happen to us?”

“We’ve been kidnapped, and we’re probably going to be sold into a sex trafficking ring. So, you know, that’s fun,” I snapped. I wiggled my arms and legs again, but Emmett wasn’t even trying to untie me.

“Does this have something to do with that guy you left with before you ghosted us all?” he asked, looking at me.

I stopped struggling. That guy I left with? Like Emmett didn’t know exactly who that guy I left with was. Like Emmett hadn’t fucking bet me that I couldn’t get Marcus to take me home with him.

Motherfucker.

I stopped struggling. Fucking Emmett? He was… fuck, he was boring. He had fucking dimples, for fuck’s sake. No way was he the guy who was setting people up to be bought. No way.

Only he always had money, didn’t he? He’d said he grew up poor, but he was never short on funds. He’d picked up the tab more than one night out. He lived in a great apartment. He told everyone he was in business, and he did well. He was always vague about his job. Boring stuff, he’d said. He wasn’t really close to anyone, but he knew everyone.

I stared at him, and he stared back at me. He didn’t even look scared, the stupid fuck.

“You know, if you’re going to pretend to be another victim, you should be crying or at least panicking or something. You suck at this, Em.” If he was the buyer’s man, I wasn’t going to bother trying to be civil.

He stood up and brushed himself off. “You’re always such an asshole, Q.”

“It’s a gift,” I bragged. “Got me laid more times than you, didn’t it?”

“Oh, you’re gonna get laid quite a bit in the future, Q, don’t you worry.” He actually smirked at me as he said it.

Fucking bastard.

“How many ‘friends’ have you set up, Em? How many guys have you sold into human trafficking?” I asked.

I figured I’d pump him for as much info as I could before Liam got here. I’m sure he could track my phone.

Fuck. My phone. I jiggled a little, and I realized the weight of it wasn’t in my pocket. I didn’t think my wallet was in my pocket either. I’d left my keys with my jacket at the coffee shop. Abduction hadn’t been on today’s bingo card.

I was going to have Liam put a fucking tracker under my skin at this rate.

Still, he’d find me. He’d track cars and people in and out of the back alley of the coffee shop, and he’d find me. He’d hack cameras and all sorts of shit. It just might take a little longer than I liked.

Emmett was smirking as he stared at me. “What’s the matter, Q? Not thrilled at the prospect of being a drugged-out sex slave? Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you don’t enjoy it. I usually try to make things easier on the guys, but you’re such a prick. You’ve caused enough trouble for the operation that you deserve a little punishment. You’ll have some company when you’re shipped off as well. We’ve got a nice sized shipment of three of you this time.”

“You sick fuck. You’re selling people you fucking befriend into slavery, and you don’t even give a fuck. What the fuck is wrong with you?” I seethed.

“They’re drifters. People who won’t be missed. Men who are on the fringes of society already. Half of them are already on drugs.” He shrugged.

“Because they’re at a fucking club , you asshole. You really think that makes what you do ok?” I hissed.

“Eh. It may not win me any humanitarian awards, but it makes me very wealthy.” Emmett opened up the door and pulled a chair from outside in, sitting down and continuing to stare at me. “Do you have any idea how much trouble you’ve caused us?”

I laughed. “Oh, I have plenty of idea.”

“All the men I work with have gone silent. We can’t find any trace of their arrest, so that means somehow you scared them all away. I suppose that might be for the best, since many of them could be tied together,” he reasoned.

“They’re all dead,” I stated flatly.

Emmett laughed. “Nice try, Q, but you don’t have those kinds of connections.”

I just stared at him, and he must have seen something in my face.

“How did you get away from Marcus? What happened?” he asked.

“Fuck you,” I spat out.

“How did you find the other men? What did you say or do to get them to abandon their homes and jobs?”

“Fuck you,” I said again. I wasn’t going to give him shit.

He shot up and stalked toward me, slapping me across the face.

Fuck, that hurt. Stung like a fucker. I took a deep breath, and then I started to laugh. I was probably a little hysterical sounding, and Emmett backed up a step, staring at me.

“Oh, Em, you’re going to find out exactly what happened to all of them. Don’t you fucking worry. And I’ll be right there to watch it happen.” I laughed again, because fuck, I would have Liam strip his skin from his fucking body for doing this.

“I’ll leave you alone to stew a little. When I come back, I’ll bring my friend, and maybe then you’ll find yourself more helpful,” Emmett said, and then he backed towards the door, opened it, and shut it behind him. I heard a lock click shut.

Fucking asshole.

I really hoped Liam hurried the fuck up.

I struggled a bit with the zip ties, but yeah, they weren’t going anywhere. I contemplated trying to break the chair, but the door was locked and the room had no windows, so that wasn’t going to do me much good at all even if I could manage it.

I had always vaguely disliked Emmett. He was kind of an asshole who thought he was better than everyone else. He was subtle about it, but he couldn’t totally hide his disdain. And he definitely didn’t appreciate my snarky attitude. I had always annoyed him, and I knew it.

When I thought about it, I guessed he made sense as the buyer’s connection. He wasn’t really besties with anyone. He was kind of a prick, but most of the guys liked him—he paid for a lot of drinks. He listened when people talked and loved gossip, which was probably how he knew who to choose. He flashed money around, but he was subtle about it. And no one really knew too much about him.

What a fucking betrayal. It was bad enough that he was scum and was selling men from our community into sex trafficking. I mean, obviously that was fucking horrible. But we had been sort of friends. We had hung out all the time. We had been on each other’s socials. I would be missed in our friend group. And he had set me up to be kidnapped and sold. Why? Because I’d had sex with someone he wanted? It was all so fucking petty. And it was probably the stupidest thing he’d done, because we were linked together.

I heard a thump outside the door, and then it was swinging open, and there was Liam.

“Well, it took you long enough,” I snapped. “My fucking wrists are gonna get sore from the fucking zip ties.”

He smiled broadly at me.

“Hello? Fucking kidnapped here. Stop smiling like a loon and get me free before fucking psycho Emmett comes back,” I complained.

He came over, still grinning like a weirdo, and I felt warmth at my ankles and hands, and suddenly I was free. Well, that was handy.

“Alright, we gotta find Emmett—” I started, but Liam pulled me in and kissed me fiercely.

When he pulled away, he said, “Dexter took him already. He’ll meet us at home. He just knocked out the guard, because he’s not totally rotten yet, but there’s two more innocents upstairs. Oh, and we’re going to have company in about thirty seconds.”

“Company?” I asked, raising my eyebrow.

And at that moment, I heard a bang from somewhere in the house, and a loud voice yelled, “Police! Everybody freeze!”

I looked at Liam. “Police? Really?”

He just shrugged. “Dexter may have been speeding a bit, and we didn’t feel like stopping. We had enough of a head start to take care of things.” Then he raised his hands and called out, “Down here, Sheriff! We’re unarmed!”

What. The. Fuck.

I just sighed and raised my own arms. Well, this would be interesting. I was sure Liam could somehow talk his way out of this, but I had no idea how.

A man I recognized from the coffee shop came in gun first, aimed directly at us. He was slightly older than me—mid forties, maybe—and he was pretty new to town. I hadn’t known he was a cop.

“Good evening, Sheriff,” Liam said calmly.

I turned to look at him like he was fucking insane, and from the sheriff’s snort—I thought his name was Paul from his coffee orders—he noticed my incredulous face.

“Liam Smith, you’re under arrest for speeding and evading arrest,” he started, but then I turned to look at him.

“Ummm, hello! He was coming to rescue me! I think a little speeding is totally called for, and he’s obviously not evading arrest since he’s standing here with his arms up in the air,” I snapped.

The sheriff sighed, lowering his gun a bit. “Q, how lovely to see you outside the coffee shop. Is this your house?”

“No, it’s not my fucking house. I was fucking kidnapped and held in this room. Emmett Reese probably owns the house. He told me he was going to sell me into a human trafficking ring. He said he had other people locked up too. Luckily, Liam is a good boyfriend who had me airtagged so he could find me.”

The sheriff sighed again. “It’s illegal to airtag someone without their knowledge.”

“Oh my fucking god, are you listening? First of all, it wasn’t without my knowledge, and second of all, I was kidnapped . I was held hostage . There are other people being held hostage in this house. The guy who did it may still be wandering around.” I waved my arms at him. “Go do something!” I shouted.

“You’re serious? This isn’t just some trick to get out of trouble?”

“Do I look like I’m fucking kidding?” I asked.

Apparently I didn’t, because he ordered, “Stay here,” then he started talking into his radio before he walked out the door, pulling it shut behind him.

Liam sighed.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, human police suck. But this way you won’t get arrested or get a speeding ticket. And Emmett really did tell me he had other people,” I added helpfully.

“Yes, there are two more upstairs. And the guard should still be incapacitated, so he shouldn’t give the sheriff any trouble. Dexter will be long gone with Emmett, so that isn’t a concern. I’m sure the sheriff will just assume he made his escape when I came bumbling in here.” Liam looked proud of himself.

“Only one problem, brainiac—the sheriff would have seen two of you in the car, and if the story is that I was held hostage, where’s the other person?” I asked.

Ok, yeah, I asked really snarkily, but thank goodness someone was here to take care of loose ends.

“Ah. Yes, good point. Let me text one of the guys to come over,” he said, taking out his phone.

He typed, waited a moment, and then there was a vibration. He read and said, “Jude is coming. We can say he just got lost in the woods, and they can be heroes and find him.”

Dexter must have been busy dealing with Emmett, so I guessed we were gonna say it was Jude in the car with him. I‘m sure he was gonna love being “rescued” by police officers after he got “lost.” I snorted a little at the thought. Better than nothing, I supposed.

Liam hugged me close, and I heard him snuffle along the top of my head.

“Are you sniffing me again, you weirdo?” I asked.

“I love you, too, hellcat,” he answered.

Fuck. I sighed out and snuggled into him. I really did love him.

We stayed like that, cuddled up together, even when we heard police sirens coming up to the house. We were still snuggled together when the sheriff came back in, looking pale and more than a little disturbed.

I hoped this wouldn’t take long. We had an asshole former-friend to torture, and then I needed some snuggle time with my hellhound. I had, after all, just been kidnapped. Again.