Page 53 of The Question of Us (Fisher & Church #2)

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Nick

Freddie and Clarence took off, leaving Jack and Ronnie standing sentry.

Not that any of us were going anywhere fast with both feet and hands zip-tied and our mouths taped.

The guards argued over what to do about Gazza, caught between obeying Freddie’s instructions and obvious concern about Gazza vomiting and choking on their watch.

Since I was definitely not a fan of the latter, I breathed a huge sigh of relief when they opted to leave Gazza cable-tied but untaped.

That done, they disappeared outside for a smoke, leaving the door open to keep an eye on us.

Gazza faced me with his back to the open door.

He hadn’t moved a muscle since they’d first laid him down, and that worried me more than anything.

A crusty line of dry drool tracked from the corner of his mouth to the concrete floor and he looked paler than when I’d first seen him in the games room.

I worried that whatever they’d given him might be fucking with his diabetes, but there wasn’t much I could do about it.

I was still watching when Gazza’s eyes opened and met mine. Holy shit . I almost leaped out of my skin.

Gazza shot me a slow wink and whispered, “Surpriiiise.”

What the fuck? I blinked and blinked again, my gaze shooting over his shoulder to where the guards were still talking and smoking their cigarettes. My attention flipped back to Gazza, now smiling at Lee, who looked anything but surprised by Gazza’s sudden recovery, his blue eyes all but twinkling.

What the hell was going on?

Had Gazza been awake the whole time? No.

It wasn’t possible. He’d definitely been under the influence of something when he’d been led inside, but maybe not as much as I’d thought at the time.

Had part of it been an act? I hadn’t been watching him the whole time, after all.

Once Lee arrived, I’d barely glanced at Gazza, too consumed by the ensuing argument, just like everyone else.

Had Gazza realised what was happening and used that distraction to ditch some of his drink?

Or had his bouts of vomiting helped clear his system?

Regardless, whatever had happened with Gazza, Lee was clearly in on it, which meant they must’ve talked while alone in the games room.

I remembered that intense look Lee gave me before we were herded out of there, like he was trying to tell me something.

He’d definitely known Gazza was more awake than he was letting on and they’d cooked up this plan between them.

My brain was still struggling to catch up when I saw Lee and Gazza begin wriggling toward each other.

Shit. My gaze shot again to the open door, but the guards remained unaware.

Aaron whimpered. With his terrified eyes intent on his brother, he made a vain attempt to kick Lee on the shin, presumably to stop him.

Lee silenced Aaron with a look, which I followed with a grunted warning.

Whatever Lee and Gazza had in mind, it had to be better than just sitting there waiting for our fate to be decided by Marty fucking Klein.

These two men had become our one shining hope.

I just prayed they knew what they were doing.

I flicked my head at Aaron, indicating he should shimmy sideways to cover the gaping hole left by Gazza, and he did his best. That left Aaron and me the only ones in full view of the guards, with Gazza and Lee slightly off to one side, their legs exposed but their torsos hopefully out of sight.

Whatever they were planning, it needed to happen fast before the guards clocked the change or simply decided to check on us.

I watched Gazza and Lee draw closer to each other until they were almost face to face. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting but it certainly wasn’t Gazza putting his mouth on Lee’s neck, or more specifically, around his choker. What the hell?

He jerked his head back a couple of times and I caught the glint of silver in his mouth.

What the fuck was he doing? It looked like he’d removed one of the large decorative pieces dangling from Lee’s leather choker.

One final tug and Gazza pulled away, a small blade flashing between his teeth, it’s silver cover still attached to Lee’s choker.

Sweet Jesus.

Gazza spat the blade onto the floor. “You’re a goddammed miracle,” he whispered to Lee, his gaze curiously soft.

Lee waggled his eyebrows, blue eyes dancing.

Then, to my astonishment, he leaned forward and pressed his taped mouth to Gazza’s lips, shocking him into a furious blush, no mean feat with all that glorious olive skin.

I’d never seen Gazza so befuddled, and I might’ve found it funny if we weren’t playing with fire.

Any moment, Jack or Ronnie could decide to check on us and we’d be screwed.

One hidden razor blade did not an escape make.

I grunted my disapproval and gave them my best cut-it-the-fuck-out glare.

Gazza quickly nodded but Lee simply looked amused.

With the guards still leaning on the Land Rover chatting, I indicated for Gazza to get on with getting us free.

He rolled to his other side and shuffled up the floor until his fingers brushed the discarded blade and he picked it up.

Then it was Lee’s turn to roll and get in a position where Gazza could work on Lee’s cable ties.

It took longer than expected and Lee jumped more than once as the blade nicked his skin.

By the time his hands were finally free, a trail of blood ran down one of them to the concrete floor and I was shitting bricks.

The process had taken far too long and we were really pushing our luck.

Lee ripped the tape from his mouth, cut his ankle ties, and set to work releasing Gazza’s hands and feet.

That done, he started shuffling our direction.

Freeing Aaron and me would be the most dangerous part of the whole operation since we lay directly in front of the open door.

If Jack or Ronnie happened to look at the wrong time, it would all be over.

Lying on the floor as if he was still tied, Gazza kept watch on the guards while Lee set to work, starting with me.

“Really? You carry a blade on your damn choker?” I whispered as Lee worked.

He huffed over my shoulder, “Let’s just say I’ve found it wise to come prepared for anything at one of Marty’s parties.”

I said nothing, pretty sure I didn’t want to know the why of that, at least not right then.

When he’d finished with me, Lee moved on to Aaron, beginning with his hands. He’d only just freed them and was moving toward his brother’s feet when Gazza hissed a low warning, “Incoming.”

My gaze jerked up to find Jack heading toward us.

Shit. Shit. Shit. I glanced back at Aaron, who’d frozen with the duct tape pulled halfway off his mouth.

His feet, at least, were still tied. I signalled for him to press the tape back in place, then used my feet to slide a discarded piece of tape Lee’s way.

Lee did the best he could with it, then turned his face toward the concrete floor to hide the clumsy fix. With his knees bent and his untied ankles tucked up behind him, he might just pass. It was too late to wonder what he’d done with the damn blade. I could only trust he had it safely hidden.

Gazza tucked his legs up in the same way as Lee, and although he didn’t have to worry about the tape, I wasn’t so lucky.

I fumbled my own piece back over my mouth and then got in position.

Our clumsy subterfuge wouldn’t fool anyone for long, but it was better than nothing.

Odds were, Jack wouldn’t give us more than a cursory glance before leaving again.

Yeah, right. If only we’d been so lucky.

The minute Jack stepped into the barn, his gaze swept over the four of us but lingered on Gazza, his frown deepening, like he was trying to process what was different. He stepped toward Gazza and a discarded cable tie clicked under his boot.

My heart leaped into my throat and my gaze locked on Lee’s equally wide-eyed stare as we waited for the guard to look down. Waited for it all to be over.

Miraculously, Jack kept moving and kicked the toe of his boot into Gazza’s hip.

Gazza groaned but didn’t open his eyes, his face remaining slack.

Another kick, but Gazza absorbed the second blow as well.

The guy was a fucking hero.

The guard grunted, gave us another once-over, and then headed for Lee who was lying awkwardly on his side with his face turned toward the floor. Dropping to a crouch, Jack ran the muzzle of his gun down the front of Lee’s colourful shirt to his groin, where it came to a stop.

I held my breath.

“So fucking pretty.” Jack licked his lips. “Maybe Marty will hand you over to us when he’s done.” He pushed the barrel hard into Lee’s tight white trousers and Lee winced. “Let us have a little fun with you.”

Don’t react. I sent a silent message to Lee. Whatever you’re thinking, don’t do it.

Jack leaned closer to Lee’s face and Lee turned his head toward the floor, his platinum hair falling over the side of his face to effectively hide the messy tape. But the move put him almost on his stomach, threatening to expose the missing ties around his hands and feet.

Thankfully, Jack was on a roll, ignoring Lee’s body to focus on the side of his mostly hidden face.

He grinned lasciviously. “Cat got your tongue, motherfucker?” He ran the barrel of the gun back up Lee’s chest to his throat—to the choker.

“Marty’s all about recycling around here and I’m sure you’ve got some life in you yet. ”

When Lee offered no reaction at all, Jack paused, cocking his head, his frown deepening. Then he peered closer. “What the—” Using the barrel of his gun, he lifted the veil of strawberry-blond hair back from Lee’s face and swore at the sight of the duct tape lying on the floor under the man’s head.