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“Wherever you are, the connection is crap.” She didn’t want to let him go, and Avalon was afraid their connection would completely die at any moment. “Be careful? Hurry home. I’ll be waiting for you.”
“Avalon…” Soft. A little sad. “I’ve been waiting…my whole life for…”
“Beau? I couldn’t quite make out?—”
But the call had ended.
I’ve been waiting my whole life for you.
She hadn’t heard him. He’d lost the call right at the end. But that was okay. Soon enough, he’d be with Avalon, and he could tell her again just how much she mattered. He never, ever wanted her to doubt that she meant everything to him.
His Jag waited to the right. The cops had impounded the vehicle. They’d cuffed him at the scene, put him in the back of the patrol car, and then Avalon had launched in after him.
Avalon.
She’d ridden in the back of the patrol car to the station. Once at the station, she’d kept telling anyone who would listen that there had been a mistake. A misunderstanding.
She’d kept defending him. She knew his secrets. All of them. But she kept defending him.
Mistake, my ass.
He opened the unlocked door. Who left an unlocked Jag with the keys inside it? Were they trying to get his ride stolen? Even near a police station, a Jag wasn’t going to be completely safe. Damn.
Beau slid inside. He still gripped the phone and?—
Something jabbed into his neck. Hard. Like a bee stinging him. His hand flew up, still gripping the phone, and he smashed…
What the hell? A needle?
Soft laughter teased his ears. “Didn’t you learn anything from Owen Bell? Because I did.”
Some bastard was in the backseat of his Jag. Beau swung out with his fist and clipped the freak in the jaw. But it was a sloppy hit. Weak. Wild. Because?—
I don’t feel right.
“Owen always used horse tranquilizers on his vics. The tranq knocks them out so easily. I pumped the syringe so full, my friend.” More laughter. “Nighty-night, asshole.”
No. No. He still had the phone. Clutched in his hand. The hand he’d fisted and swung, and his fingers fumbled over it as he tried to make a call.
His contacts…
Contact one…
“When you wake up, you’re going to be in hell. I promise you that.”
Beau felt the last of his consciousness flow into a sea of black.
Royal’s phone rang. Frowning, he pulled it from his pocket and frowned at the screen. “Didn’t he just talk to you like…two seconds ago?” he asked Avalon as he brought the phone to his ear. “Bro, you need to have better service if you’re wanting to talk to?—”
“When you wake up, you’re going to be in hell.”
His blood iced. “Beau?”
“I promise you that.”
Not Beau’s voice. Not his freaking brother’s voice. “Beau!” Royal roared. And Avalon lunged toward him.
But the line had gone dead.
