Deserted - Auctioned

Darius hummed and folded his arms over his chest, one hand coming up to rub his jaw. “They allow camping at Joshua Tree, don’t they?”

“In the park? I think so.” Willow turned on a third screen and wheeled her chair closer to its keyboard. The other two screens shared a keyboard. “Yeah, there are a lot of raving lunatics going camping in the park. You make reservations beforehand.” She switched from a page with information to another map. “This one’s closest to your destination.”

“But then we gotta cross the Pinto Mountains.” Darius leaned over and tapped the screen. “That one. Can you go to satellite? I wanna see the basin.” The satellite view appeared, revealing big patches of yellow and brownish-green. It was the very definition of desert. Flat deadlands met grassy hills, rock formations, and shrubs. “What’s that, a few klicks between the campsite and his location?”

“Lemme check—” Willow rose from her chair and froze with her green eyes going wide when she spotted Gray.

Fuck. He instantly felt like an intruder.

“Hey.” Darius blocked the view and grasped her shoulders. “Keep going, baby girl. You got this. You were gonna check the distance for me, yeah? Keep going. Repeat after me—keep going.” His voice was calm and collected despite the nonstop flow of words.

“Keep,” she gasped.

He nodded her along and rubbed her arms. “Keep going, keep going. You’ve met Gray before. This is work. Focus on your job. Keep going.”

“K-Keep going,” she stammered. She took a few deep breaths. “Keep—keep going.”

“See?” There was a smile in Darius’s voice, and the interaction between the two warmed Gray’s heart. “You got this. Just keep going, Squeezy. Push through. Check the distance for me.”

She gulped and nodded, and she sort of bolted into action. “I’m gonna keep going.” She grabbed a calculator off the end of her desk before returning to her seat. “Distance, distance, distance, keep going. All the fucking words. I can speak. Talk, talk, talk.”

“Fuck yeah, you can.” Darius joined her again, planting his palms on the desk, and he gave her an abundance of tasks, probably to distract her. “If we go through the basin over here, I gotta know how long it takes to get there on an ATV. Then I need to know how busy the sites are at this time of year. I’m guessing it’s the perfect season before it gets too hot.”

She nodded quickly and jotted something on a notepad.

“Can you pull up the buyer’s profile?” Darius asked. “Gray and I are gonna talk for a bit. You ignore us and focus, and you keep mumbling incoherently to yourself.”

Her gaze shot up and sharpened. “I don’t fucking mumble, and I definitely don’t speak incoherently.”

He smirked. “I made you argue, though.”

The man was slick.

“Ugh.” She shoved at him, earning herself a laugh, and basically shooed him off. “Here’s your damn profile.” She pressed a couple keys, maybe a little too hard, and the screen in front of Darius lit up with information and a picture that nearly bowled Gray over. The nausea hit him like a wrecking ball.

He turned his back on the others and pressed a fist to his mouth.

The memories of everything that had transpired on the yacht assaulted him. Jackie’s buyer was a short, stacked man who reminded Gray of an English bulldog. Maybe not as heavyset; it was his face. His cheeks sagged, forcing the corners of his mouth downward. He had the creepiest fucking smile, Gray remembered. It would light up his pale blue eyes and push up his brows, wrinkling his forehead, yet his plump lips wouldn’t move. Gray swallowed uneasily and closed his eyes. He saw the man touching Jackie’s cheek lovingly, as if he hadn’t just given the kid a black eye.

He’d only seen Jackie’s buyer get violent a single time, and Darius had assured Gray that the fucker wasn’t much for physical abuse. He was a lonely pedophile craving affection.

It still made Gray sick. If anything, physical abuse could be easier to recover from.

He didn’t want to imagine what kind of twisted shit Jackie had been forced to endure.

Gray jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Darius guided him to the screen, to the profile, and nodded firmly. He knew what was running through Gray’s mind but silently told him you got this.

Exhaling shakily, willing his heart to calm the fuck down, Gray lifted his gaze to the picture and balled his hands into fists along his sides.

Darius positioned himself behind Gray and rubbed his shoulders. “His days are numbered, knucklehead. I promise you.”

Deep breaths. Gray nodded. It was good to hear, good to have it confirmed; they weren’t setting this asshole up for a prison sentence. He was gonna die.

Chester Warren. That was the scumbag’s name.

“Oh my God.” Gray’s stomach twisted painfully as he continued reading. “He’s a pediatrician?”