Page 61 of Sticks and Stones (FBI Romance/Thriller #65)

‘You didn’t call me last night, and now, I know something bad has happened.

I’ve called the hospitals, and I’ve called the police.

No one has seen you. I’m going to start looking for you today.

I’ll go to your parents’ pub and your house.

I’ll keep looking for you, Corbin, because I love you.

I wish I told you more, and sooner. You’re my other half. I won’t stop until I find you.’

Someone was definitely loved.

Corbin needed to know that. In the end, it might be what helped him heal.

Because love was a miracle worker.

Tucking his phone into his pants, Ethan kept looking. Inside the one drawer, he saw a Ruger in its holster. On the back of it, there was something etched into the leather.

‘To my son. Fight the good fight. I’m proud of you. Mom.’

Well, they knew who took Corbin’s things.

Beside where the gun had been, there was a badge and wallet. Ethan grabbed them, and that’s when he saw it.

In the bottom of the drawer, there was a tiny plastic baggie used for drugs. It was the kind street dealers put meth in.

Inside of the baggie, there was a white substance.

Oh, shit.

He’d found Snow.

Carefully, he pulled on gloves that he’d had tucked into his Kevlar, and picked it up. Heading the warnings from the masked military guy, he looked around.

What wouldn’t he give to have an evidence bag?

Since he didn’t, Blackhawk placed the packet inside the vest in the same pocket his badge sat when they were storming a building.

It would be safe there, against his chest, and below his chin.

Now, they could give the masked military guy the sample, and they could have it tested.

Leaving the man’s room, he headed down to show his partner what he found.

Downstairs, Gene was going through DVD cases, and from the look on his face, Ethan knew what he was finding.

Porn.

Hearing him, Gene filled him in.

“I found porn, more porn, and even more porn. This guy was a sick fuck. He should be locked away to keep normal people safe,” he admitted. “Did you find anything?” he asked Ethan.

The man nodded.

“Yeah, I found Corbin’s gun, badge, and phone,” he said, sharing that with his partner. “I also found a packet of drugs,” he stated.

Gene turned around.

“Really?” he asked.

Ethan stuck his fingers into the pocket that his badge cover would sit in during work. He pulled the little packet out with his gloved fingers.

“Oh, yeah. Someone had porn upstairs, and this. How much do you want to bet it’s Snow?” Ethan asked.

Yeah, Gene wasn’t taking that bet.

He knew better.

Patting his pockets, he was looking for an evidence bag, but he didn’t have one. It made him uneasy with the drug in Ethan’s vest.

Damn it.

Gloves, yes.

Evidence bag, no.

Ethan saw him.

“I can hold onto it. This little baby will be tucked into my vest for safe keeping.”

That worked for him.

“Okay, great. Don’t lose it. When we’re done, we’ll pass it off for testing.”

When his burner phone chimed, Gene took it out and read what the masked military guy had sent him.

‘Someone is driving up and down the street, and he’s casing the joint. I think your next scumbag has arrived. Heads-up, so he doesn’t sneak up on you.’

Gene showed Ethan.

“We have company. Our Marine friend thinks that the car driving up and down the street is Truck. It appears that he’s being super cautious.”

That meant he might disappear.

“Can you text him back and tell him to stop him if he makes a break for it?” Ethan asked.

Oh, Gene had just been thinking that.

So, he did.

Going to the window, he peeked out, and saw the car. It was moving slowly in front of the house as if he was trying to make up his mind.

“What if he’s seeing all of their vehicles and worried that something is going on?” Ethan asked, as the man parked down the street.

Gene tucked the phone away.

“Maybe,” he admitted. “If he makes it inside, we’re going to have to grab him the second he walks in the door. He’s twitchy,” he said, getting into position again.

Ethan got it.

From where he was standing, Ethan could see out the window, and the man was definitely paranoid. He was checking the one motorcycle’s saddle bag, and peeking inside the cars.

Finally, he moved closer to the house.

When they heard Truck on the porch, he knocked but didn’t come inside.

Shit.

A polite asshole.

Ethan pointed, and Gene knew what he wanted him to do. He needed to go out the kitchen door, and around the outside of the house so they could cut him off.

They were going to have a runner.

Bet.

On.

It.

Understanding what his partner was suggesting, Gene slipped through the house and into the kitchen.

And again, the man knocked.

From where he could see Truck standing, he was getting nervous and looking around. When Ethan saw Gene pass a window, he knew it was time.

Opening the door, he had Truck’s full attention. When he opened the door, gun out, Truck went to run.

Only, he didn’t see the big Fed behind him. That’s how he got clotheslined and knocked out as his body went hurtling to the ground.

Holy shit!

An angry Gene packed a punch.

To not draw any attention to the house, both men grabbed him, making sure that he didn’t wake up and alert anyone who might be watching.

They knew that Bullet was going to be returning at some point, and they didn’t need to blow this one. So far, it had been relatively easy,

Once inside, Gene dragged the man into the living room, and dropped him onto the floor.

That’s when he saw it.

On his hand, there was a big, fat, skull ring.

That took his temper up a notch as he pulled it off of his hand, and showed Ethan what he had on him.

“Well, we know that we can tie him to the victims. That looks like the ring that made the imprints on the remains we saw in the pictures.

That it did.

“I don’t like that they have another batch of men ready to be sent out to buyers.”

On that, Ethan agreed.

“I don’t either. Someone gets the drugs here, and then, Renegade must take them to wherever the men are. His texts say that the location comes with the balloons.”

Was it too difficult to hope a case would be easy?

Someone giving them a name would be nice.

Yeah, Gene was not fond of this city.

Not.

At.

All.

As the man was waking up, both Ethan and Gene crouched down in front of him.

“Hey, Truck. Remember us?” Ethan asked as the man blinked to get his bearings.

As soon as it registered, he closed his mouth.

“I guess he’s not happy to see us,” Gene admitted. “Man, and here I was, expecting him to be excited. Almost as excited as he was when he was raping a cop.”

Ethan cued up the video, and showed him. In it, he was clearly visible assaulting Corbin.

Then, Ethan scrolled ahead, and they found the part where he branded Corbin.

Twice.

The man said nothing still, and Gene was done fucking around. With each time he had to watch that video, he wanted to do two things.

Puke.

And kill.

Unluckily for Truck, he was in some serious shit and with two people who were sanctioned by their boss to clean up this shitmess.

That didn’t bode well for the five men at all.

“Your best bet is to talk,” Ethan said.

Only, Truck spit at him, just missing his face.

“Fuck you, pig!” he said. “I ain’t saying shit. That man wanted sex. That was his fantasy.”

There was a deep, low growl from in Gene’s belly, signaling he was not amused by this man and his antics. Was this the game he wanted to play?

Really?

Gene was ready to play then, but this man was going to regret what he did, and what he said.

Mark.

His.

Words.

Heading into the kitchen, Gene found a lighter by a pack of cigarettes. When he came back in, Ethan had his booted foot on the man’s junk, in case he decided to get spicy.

Oh, and his gun pointed at his head.

Scratch that.

It was pressed to his head, and his partner’s finger was poised on the trigger—ready to do the job.

“I know how to make him talk,” Gene said.

Then, he began heating up the ring that he’d taken off of Truck’s finger. The whole time, the man was sweating.

Oh, well, it was about to get worse.

Ethan gave him one last chance.

“So tell me, Truck, before we start beating the intel out of you, who is the supplier and how do they get the men?” he asked.

The man said nothing.

“Maybe an easier question, then,” he said. “How many men have been taken?” he asked.

Gene was heating the metal until it was red, and he suspected the man would talk then.

“I don’t know,” Truck said.

Well, look at that. Raymond Archer was starting to get worried enough to talk to them.

“Where is everyone?” Truck asked, staring at Gene the whole time.

Ethan shared.

Because sharing was caring.

“The CIA has them, and they’re getting ready to be shipped to Gitmo where the Marines take their time,” he stated. “You know. Like you guys did to that cop—who lived, by the way.”

Again, the man spit at him.

This time, he hit his vest.

“Fucking half-breed. We should have never let you fucking leave when you were in our bar!”

The spitting was annoying, but it was the ‘half-breed’ that really pissed Gene off.

That was the second time they’d said it, and now, he was officially done.

Instead of saying anything, he turned the man’s head by grabbing a handful of his hair and shoved the red-hot ring into his face.

Truck screamed as it was burned into his cheek.

“Oh, Raymond,” Ethan said. “My partner here doesn’t like when you say that about me. I mean, it’s true, but pointing it out like that…not a good plan.”

Gene set him free, and went back to heating up the ring a second time.

“I dare him to say it again,” Gene stated. “When anyone talks shit about my significant other, I get spicy as fuck. That video and your comments make me angsty,” he stated.

Truck was saying nothing.

When Ethan stepped down on the man’s balls, trapped under his boot, he whimpered. It was when he borderline crushed them that he broke.

“I’ll talk!” he said, as Gene kept heating up the ring. Truck’s face was raw where it had been burned.