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I T-boned her. Man, I accelerated before I slammed into her.”

Reeves was wide awake. Adrenaline mainlining through his blood did that. Darcy. They had T-boned her, then the bastard had hit her. The asshole was so dead for bragging that he broke her nose. Reeves was primed to choke the life out of the bastard. The only good news was that he knew that Darcy was alive, and they hadn’t decided to give her seizures with that cocaine mixture. Small blessings in this shithole situation.

Reeves strained to remember how he and Darcy had become separated. His last memory was falling against Darcy, thinking he was becoming a lightweight who couldn’t hold a single tumbler of scotch. Flashes of Darcy cradling his head in her lap and feeling as if he were floating were all that he had. Nothing else.

He tried to sort out the dudes’ information, but his razor-sharp focus was dulled like a butter knife. He already knew that the Sureños were involved, but these dimwits worked for a “boss” aligned with the gang and somehow with the Russians.

Was “the white dude” Charlie who offed himself? But they’d learned that Charlie was alive, which meant that it had to be Tex. But that didn’t add up since someone killed Tex, and they said this white dude offed himself mixing cocaine with Xanax. Reeves’s head hurt from his attempt to concentrate and sort through the information.

It didn’t matter who was behind his capture. Darcy and the Jenkinses would figure it out. Reeves had to get access to his computer and send Darcy a message with his GPS. And then he had to escape. Not that much to handle when he probably couldn’t stand or remember his password.

“Hey, asshole, wake up.” Reeves’s arm was yanked almost out of his shoulder. He could feel McDonald’s breath on his face.

“Dump the water on him.”

Shit. Time to give up the possum game. Reeves slowly opened one eye, preparing for the worst.

“Get up and drink the water. You need to get to work if you want to see your CIA girlfriend again.”

Reeves opened both eyes, trying to avoid getting any closer than absolutely necessary to sit up. An obese guy with caramel-colored skin and a do-rag on his head, keeping his dreadlocks in place, hovered over Reeves.

“You going to release me after I show you the difference in Python versus Java code?” He believed that they planned for him to see Darcy as much as he believed they were the tech team.

McDonald shot a blank look at his partner, who was the muscle. He wore a tight green t-shirt advertising a local gym, his blond hair in a military cut, full sleeves of colorful tats on both arms. Reeves didn’t recognize the tattoos—were they Sureños gang tats?

“Sure. Once you hold down the water, we’ve got grub for you.” The muscle nodded toward the table holding bags of drive-through food.

He would never be able to eat fast food again. “Thanks.”

Reeves waited for the room to not tilt and the acid crawling up his throat to stop. He swung around to sit on the edge of the steel cot. Holding his hands to his head, he groaned, overdramatizing how badly he felt. He wanted his captors to underestimate him and his training. Unfortunately, he didn’t need to act much. Coming down from the drug cocktail was playing havoc with his nervous system. Every sound, smell, and touch was magnified to the point of pain.

Keeping his head down, he scanned the room from underneath his hands.

He was in an eight-by-ten room with no windows, nothing but his cot, a metal table, chairs, and the bags of food and water bottles. Oh, and his computer bag. The door lock from this angle looked to be a Schlage Encode. Easy-peasy. And there was no urinal. All adding up in his favor.

“Galina should be here soon.” McDonald took Reeves’s arm and jerked him up. “Time to show off all that genius.”

“I don’t need to show off to anyone.” Reeves didn’t like the guy’s sweaty fingers squeezing his arm.

McDonald pulled out a Glock from the back of his jeans. “Get over to the table by your bag. Not sure what the big deal is about one computer. We had to go to a lot of trouble to get it.”

The reminder of what they had done to Darcy to get his computer fueled his anger to take these assholes down. They were playing in his world and didn’t stand a chance. And they had made a fatal mistake by allowing him his computer.

“I need to take a piss after you made me drink all the water.” He needed to do a little reconnaissance if he planned to get the hell out of here.

The two shared a look before McDonald wrenched his arm again. The violent motion set off the shooting pain behind his eyes and the nausea. Reeves took a slow breath, managing not to fight back and break the guy’s arm. He had never actually broken anyone’s limbs, but he had practiced the technique. And it would give him great pleasure to watch this guy drop and cry like a baby.

Reeves was ready to pull his arm out of the guy’s hand when he remembered he was supposed to be a nerd who was still feeling the effects of the cocaine.

Reeves swayed against Muscle, ramming his whole weight into the guy. “Sorry, I’m still a bit woozy from whatever you gave me to get my cooperation.”

“Smart-ass. You got the amount you needed.”

Now, Reeves had to hurt McDonald for the drugs and Muscle for touching Darcy. Just as soon as the room stopped spinning and he didn’t want to hurl, he’d have a plan.

Chapter Thirteen

Darcy awoke when the car stopped at the gate to a two-story, ranch-style house on the shores of a shimmering lake. The bright sun’s reflection hurt like a needle stab to her eyes. Her headache had gone from excruciating to a dull throb. She could handle the headache once

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