Crystal Mac: A prologue novella to Captive Series Book 3 HELL'S HILLTOP (7 page)

“Lana must have had more information than we thought,” Melanie added from her place at the island.
“She’s probably with the chemist now.”

“Or she’s still at
Lesico,” Mac said thoughtfully. “She must have crawled out as I climbed into the driver’s seat. It’s the only chance she had without me knowing.”

Danny
reached across the table, folded her hands over his. “Hey, you okay?”

“Fine.” He
gave her small hands a squeeze of assurance. She and Austin were his closest friends. The epitome of strength, even more so as a couple than they had been apart. But, it was Derek’s sister who had taken his sorry life and turned it into something positive. He’d still be slinging sledgehammers at minimum wage if it weren’t for her, and her presence always added a certain comfort no one else’s could.

“It’ll be alright, M
ac,” she said, her big brown eyes reflecting doubt in his answer. “If she saved you, I’m sure she’s still on the right track, even if she is operating under her own rules.”

“But we’ll never know for sure unless we catch up with her again.”

“I should’ve known better than to let you go with her,” Derek murmured as he leaned against the counter, his back to them all. “It should have been me.”

“Like you could have done any better with your chest wound,”
Austin said in Mac’s defense. “Mac was the right choice. Danny thought Crystal had some kind of thing for him, so she’d naturally want to help him.”

“I don’t know about that,” Mac said
with a sour look.

Danny
slid out of her seat and joined him on his bench. When he continued to stare at his hands, she bumped shoulders. “You’re every girl’s white knight, you big lug. Take it from me.”

Of course she’d feel that way. He was her first defender w
hen she came to work at Cahill Salvage, while Austin still had her in his crosshairs. Mac never liked that his boss had targeted her in his revenge attempt against Derek. Eventually, the two men had duked it out in the shower room, and it had taken him and two other guys to pull them apart.

Things were good between the former enemies
, now, but it would be a gross understatement to say Derek had changed since then. If he wanted to kick the shit out of someone, it wouldn’t be any hillbilly brawl this time.

“Hey.” Danny gave his forearm a pat. “You look exhausted. Why don’t you go home? Get some sleep.”

Sleep? Ha! “What about the ghosts downstairs?”

“Austin
will stand guard. You were lit up more than once tonight and I know how hard that is on the body.”

Since
Danny had been subjected to a few volts once upon a time, any excuse he came up with to put her at ease would be a total load of shit.

“Yeah,” he conceded with a nod. “Guess I’ll go recharge. Catch some zee’s.”

When they stood, Mac walked over to the playpen and paid silent homage to the blond toddler asleep inside it. “Night, sport,” he whispered, wishing he could bury his mustache in the kid’s neck as was their nightly bedtime ritual. DJ loved it. Mac missed it.

But, as of yesterday, nothing would ever be the same again.

Mac tossed and turned on the living room hide-a-bed he’d called his own for the past year. Lacking a bedroom didn’t bother him as much as sharing one bathroom did, and he’d had to change his habits quickly after moving in with Mel and DJ. Privacy was limited in the tiny one-bedroom apartment.

Of course, privacy had its advantages.
Crystal’s masterful blowjob came to the forefront of his thoughts, giving him instant wood. Great. Not exactly the thing to coax sleep.

He looked at the micro
wave clock. 1:00 AM. It was Monday and their assistant would be opening the daycare’s doors in six and a half hours.

His cell phone woke up with the marimba. He reach
ed over, grabbed it off the end table. It was Danny, which meant something was wrong.

When he answered, she sounded out of breath. “Rafferty’s gone.”

Mac shot up, the hairs on his bare chest and arms standing on end. “What do you mean
gone?”

“Austin went downstairs to check on our prisoners and all he found was River’s body. His throat was cut.”

Dread opened an instant sinkhole deep in his middle. “So… Rafferty escaped.”

“Nobody knows how, but Derek thinks it was Crystal.”

He ran a hand over his freshly shaved head in an attempt to quell that sense of failure. After all, Crystal had slipped away under his watch. “Could Rafferty still be in the house?”

“We’ve pretty much ruled that out, but I wanted to w
arn you just in case.”

On the off-chance
Rafferty knew where he and Mel lived, the man just might carry out one of the many threats he’d spewed earlier. “I’ll keep my eyes open.”

“We want you to come back here. It’s better if we’re all together since Derek is the only one who can tell if Rafferty’s close.”

It took a ghost to sense a ghost.

“I’m not your brother’s favorite person right now,” he said grimly. “I think I’ll take my chances with the half-dead ghost.”

“Don’t do that, Mac. Don’t underestimate Rafferty, he’s a tough bastard.”

Something he’d proven the night before after surviving Austin’s legendary fists of fury. “I won’t. Promise.”

A deep sigh echoed on the other end of the line. “Will you at least call in the morning?”

It
was
morning. “Sure, Monkey. Be careful.”

“Okay. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Mac disconnected the call and swung his legs to the floor.

“That was so damned beautiful.”

Shock washed down his body as Crystal’s voice reached him from the direction of the kitchen. He slowly got to his feet, rounded the
counter that divided the two rooms. There she was, a black heap curled in the corner… a mere shadow in the dim light he’d left on above the stovetop. An empty box of graham crackers lay by her feet, indicating she’d been there a while.

“Do y
ou always wear sweatpants to bed?” she asked softly.

“I sleep in the living room,” he explained, as if her sudden appearance didn’t mean big changes on his horizon.

Crystal slowly rose to a stand. With her hands tucked in her sleeves, hugging her torso, she looked fragile. Vulnerable.

“How long have you been here?” he demanded, unsure of her mood.

“I snuck in when you were in the shower.”

He bent, picked up the empty box and crushed it in his fist. “Why did you leave me in the lurch like that?”

“I had… unfinished business,” she replied wearily.

“Yeah, I heard.”

“I didn’t free Rafferty.”

Of course.
With her keen sense of hearing, she’d heard Danny’s side of the conversation as well. “After all the shit you’ve pulled, why should I believe you?”

Her hands came out of her sleeves and she walked toward him. “Because I was busy with other stuff.”

A clear bag of pills landed on the counter. Mac scanned the contents and scoffed, “A year’s worth of prenatal vitamins?”

“You know what it is.”

“I know what you want me to
think
it is.”

“So, take one and find ou
t for yourself.” She closed the distance between them, turned her face up to look him square in the eye. “Go ahead. If you’re right, you’ll enjoy really strong nails. But, if
I’m
right… every nerve ending in your body will start to come alive. You’ll be quicker on your feet. Think more clearly. Walk through your apartment with your eyes closed and not run into anything. Hear what the Spanish-speaking couple in apartment 4-C is watching on TV.” She inhaled deeply, cocked her head. “Notice that the smell of garlic never really goes away.”

They’d had spaghetti four days ago. Mac stayed put, stood his ground while she came
one intimate step closer.

“And you’ll know how to tell when someone’s lying.” Her fingers skimmed over the
same burns on his chest she’d touched before. “Read their body language and sense what move they’ll make next.” She placed a light kiss over one of them. “Stop it if you want to.”

Mac dropped the crushed box and held her awa
y by the shoulders. “You know…the blowjob was a nice distraction, but it won’t work a second time.”

Her brows came down. “Who says I’m offering?”

“I
don’t
trust you. Not by a long shot. So, if you’re telling the truth about the pills, you won’t mind coming with me.”

“Where?”

“Back to the house. You can explain it all to Derek.”

Her head fell back. “Please. Not yet. I just want to decompress. Sleep a little.”

“And you thought you could do that here?”

“I don’t know where ‘the house’ is, remember?” she reminded him with quoting fingers.

“But you knew where I lived.”

She moved a shoulder. “I followed your scent with my dynamic sense of smell.”

Really? He was
this close
to giving himself a whiff when her ice-blue eyes rolled beneath the heavy eyeliner.

“I saw it on your driver’s license, Mr.
Macon
Reed
, three-two-nine Baltimore Court, apartment 2-H, Springfield—”

“Alright, already!”

“Did the kids call you bacon when you were little?”

Yes, but he wasn’t about to admit it. “Get your pills, we’re leaving.”

“At least I don’t have to call you Mr. Truck anymore.”

He kind
of liked Mr. Truck, but he wouldn’t admit that, either. Mac got behind her and started pushing. “Come with me while I get some shoes on. I’m not letting you…”

His words trailed off when she hissed in pain. Moisture coated his left palm and he turned it over for a closer inspection.

It was covered in blood.

“What the hell is this?” Mac growled.

Crystal tried to wave it away, but the tremble in her voice was poorly masked. “I got scratched back at Lesico. Nothing serious.”

Mac
turned, saw the blackened streak against the white painted cabinets she’d been propped against. “It’s dripping!”

Before she could come back with another smartass comment, he lifted her top and inspected the wound more closely. All he saw was red. “Jesus.”

“I’m okay.”

No more jokes. She never really sounded right since their conversation started, but Mac had chalked it up to fatigue. “Come with me.”

An impressive array of toddler toys and bath stickers livened up their small, plain, white-tiled bathroom. When the vanity light flickered on, he got a clearer picture of the blood coating half her back. Some old and crusty, some new and smeared, all coming from the three-inch gash above her shoulder blade.

Nausea began to invade his throat, but he swallowed it back. Blood was
becoming a part of everyday life since Crystal had entered it. “Keep your shirt up,” he commanded as he reached into the cabinet below the sink and produced a large first-aid kit. Supplies began to pile up on the countertop: peroxide, butterfly strips, bandages, triple antibiotic cream… it wasn’t enough.