Page 130 of Hurt

A blinking on his middle monitor caught his eye. Setting the can down, he tapped the mouse to wake it up. The middle monitor had Tonka Tony’s tracker movements. Shifting the view, he noticed the screen was frozen. Frustration gnawed at his sleep-deprived nerves, and he wondered if he was going to have to unplug the ancient WIFI routeragainor if he would finally snap and actually kill the thing.

Several clicks later, he got the screen up and running again.

“Oh shit!” he shouted in surprise.

Standing quickly, he knocked his wheelie chair back, sending it rolling on uneven wheels until it struck the far wall.

Grant was by his side in a moment. “What is it?”

“Tony is moving!” Momentary excitement chased the sleepiness from his fingers and Owen checked the map.

“Where is he?” Roland asked as he looked up from his phone again.

“…he’s at The Sunspot,” Owen said bewildered.

Grant leaned over Owen’s shoulder to check his work. “Right now?”

“Yes.”

A frown deepened on Grant’s face. “Is Willow still not answering?”

The question was directed to his brother. From the glow of the screens Owen couldn’t see the look on the younger Weaver’s face.

“No.”

“Which car did you give him?”

“The Mazda.”

Grant didn’t have to ask. Owen began pulling up the GPS for the car. All the Weaver vehicles had built-in GPS tracking. Not the shitty obtuse kind the manufacturers put into their high-end vehicles. No, Owen had whipped up his own. Bouncing the signal off two of NASA’s closest satellites, he could get a precise location. Even which direction the car was facing and if the engine was on or not.

The Mazda’s location loaded up onto the screen, and Owen felt his mouth go dry.

The Weaver brothers were moving before Owen could say anything. Grant took one look at the screen and was pulling out his phone as he raced out the door, Roland just behind him.

Owen had finally been able to install security on all their cellphones. It was crude, but it provided protection from the RFID scanners. Grant was no doubt trying to get a hold of the Beckett siblings.

But why were they even at the bar in the first place? And he knew it was they. Willow and Kurt have been attached at the hip since the attack on the Weaver Estate. There was no way either of them would risk going alone.

Owen chewed on the ragged cuticles of his thumbnail. His teeth pulled at the thin strip of flesh until he tasted blood. The pain motivated him. He turned back to the computer. Hunched over his desk, he kept one eye on Tony’s dot and the other on the list of legal Cyanide purchases in the southern United States. There had to be a way to trace it. He just wasn’t looking hard enough.

The Weaver brothers were quiet. Silence extended from the moment they got into the car all the way to the bar. Each one was absorbed in his own thoughts.

Grant let Roland drive. There wasn’t much of a choice. Despite his cool detachment, Roland could be quite possessive. He liked to be in control. It was part of the reason he enjoyed cars. His driving was impeccable. The only indication that he was in any kind of distress was a subtle twitch in his right eyebrow.

Roland’s anger today was quiet. He didn’t punch things, or shout. He retreated within himself and became even more detached. His face, always a blank mask, became completely impossible to read. Grant knew better than to mistake his silence for compliance.

A thousand things were going through Grant’s mind. First and foremost being why. Why would Kurt go back to the bar? What reason could he possibly have?

Through his anger and fear, there was a small tidbit of worry. Was Kurt leaving him? Did he go back to the bar to be free of Grant?

Or was there something more nefarious at play? Was it possible Ezra got to him?

The harder he thought about it, the worse it became. Question upon question piled up. As every mile zipped by, he became increasingly agitated. By the time The Sunspot came into view, he was a mess.

Roland didn’t even put the car in park before Grant was stepping out. The parking lot was empty save for Roland’s Mazda. His long strides carried him to the car, and he glanced through the window. Nothing looked amiss in the stately interior.

Standing upright, he looked around the parking lot. His eyes were drawn to a dark splotch in the white gravel. He drew closer with a sinking feeling in his stomach.