Ryan nodded once. “We have time.”
Okay, good. Time was good. But like Darius had said, it’d started ticking.
Gray, Darius, Ryan, and Niko gathered on the patio to eat dinner, and though it was easy to sense that everyone’s nerves were a little shot, the news had brightened their spirits too. This was what it’d all been for. The revenge had been a bonus, but when push came to shove, it was about making sure Alfred Lange couldn’t hurt another person again.
They’d done it.
“How many hot dogs can you eat?” Ryan asked, baffled. “What’s that, your seventh? I don’t know where you put it.”
Gray shrugged and spread more relish on his hot dog. “Just wait till your boys grow up.”
“Yeah, if you think San Francisco’s expensive now…” Darius trailed off with a smirk.
Ryan shook his head in wonder. “Was our metabolism ever that high?”
Darius chuckled. “We were never one perfect score away from being drafted by some NHL team.”
Gray grinned and shook his head. He’d never been close to being drafted either, but sure, his years of playing a lot had left a mark or two. Before, he ate to be able to play. These days, he worked out to be able to eat.
It helped to live in the middle of nowhere with Darius and the kids. There was always something to do, someone to run after. And Gray fucking loved it. Whether he was cleaning the gutters and chopping wood or doing laundry and cooking dinner, it was all for the family and the life they were building. Once upon a time, he’d imagined living in a house in suburbia or in a nice loft in the Valley, maybe. Now he couldn’t picture it without feeling suffocated. He needed the freedom they had up in the mountains. Freedom to build, freedom to run their own little community. Secluded, big, all theirs.
He’d keep himself busy as soon as he got home. With plenty of distractions, he could hopefully survive until Darius and the boys returned.
“I can’t wait to go home,” Ryan said. “I have to suffer through Angel’s anger for about five minutes—always the same speech about me worrying her, but then comes the worship. And food. My God, the food. She treats me like I have a fever. I’m not allowed to leave the couch, and Greg rubs my feet.”
Gray grinned at him. “I thought being a kinky Master Daddy meant you got your feet rubbed whenever you wanted anyway.”
“This kind of fussing is on a whole other level.” He nodded at Gray. “By the way, I’ll start rewatching the show as soon as I get back. You better catch up.”
Oh, that was right—they had a new season of Grace & Frankie to look forward to.
“It wasn’t that long ago I watched the first season,” Gray replied, reaching for a napkin. “Text me when you’re ready to start the second.”
Darius just shook his head.
Six
Three days later, the human trafficking case was the biggest news story in the country. Every outlet covered it, even the “Florida case” when Gray and his fellow survivors had made it back to freedom. The FBI worked with local law enforcement in every state, and there was a new development every day. More raids, more victims being found. But as associates and buyers were tracked down and arrested, there were deaths too. They’d found victims buried in the woods and in backyards.
Gray and Niko had to stop watching after a while.
If Niko needed a reason to stay in Camassia—where he could have privacy—the news provided it, because it was just a matter of days, maybe weeks, before their identities became public. And weeks was wishful thinking, considering one of the deceased victims the authorities had found recently was a local boy. In total, three young men and one woman had been kidnapped from Camassia—Gray, Milo, a guy named Jonathan, and an eighteen-year-old woman named Lindsay. They didn’t know her fate yet.
Yesterday when Gray and Niko had gone to the grocery store, they’d seen news vans parked outside the police station. Reporters dug for whatever they could find, and they showed no restraint whatsoever. They were seeking out friends and old teachers of Jonathan’s, and if they were going that far, how long before they realized that two of the survivors from Florida were here too?
Gray had felt the need to check in with Milo’s parents, who were distraught, but so far, so good. No one had contacted them, and they had been promised by their contact person with the FBI that Milo’s identity would never be made public. The same promise had been given to Gray and Niko and the other guys, but that wasn’t how Gray worried the reporters would find out the truth. It was through acquaintances and people who didn’t know them but knew of them. It would be so easy, too. Hell, they didn’t even need to go through acquaintances in Gray’s case because, unlike Milo’s parents, Gray’s mom had turned to the media. She’d gone on air with a Seattle news station and pleaded with the public to keep an eye open and that everything was of interest in the search for her son.