She was suffering because of him. This was happening because he’d always been too impulsive, too reckless. Too cocky. He’d gotten in that car like he was going to be some kind of superhero. And when it’d come down to it, he hadn’t been able to bear what Gordon dished out. If he’d been able to take it, Cora wouldn’t be going through this. He’d never forgive himself. And the second he was free, he would kill Gordon with his bare hands. Rip him apart and watch him die.
But the sounds had quieted a while ago and there was no sign of Gordon. He had no idea if Cora was still here or how badly hurt she was or if she was alive at all. If Gordon knew she was the daughter of the police captain he wouldn’t let her leave. How could he?
And that’s when Ren realized exactly what this was. Gordon had promised to break him. This was how he’d do it. He’d tried to do it by putting Hayes behind bars. But Ren had fought back, fixed it. He wouldn’t be able to fix this.
This time Gordon had made sure of it. He would win. Gordon would always win.
Tears dampened the cloth over Ren’s eyes, mixing in with the sweat and making his eyes burn. He could feel his mind starting to break, the need to scream and scream and not stop pushing at him. She couldn’t be dead. He couldn’t let that thought enter his head. But in his gut, he didn’t know how things could turn out any other way.
Cora had been right. Gordon knew the ultimate torture—hurting and taking away the people you loved. That was what was worse than death.
Footsteps sounded against the concrete and Ren braced himself for the cool blade of Gordon’s voice, the words that would officially kill Ren for good.
But when the sound came, it wasn’t what he expected.
“Get an ambulance,” the female voice called out.
A male voice responded and a radio squawked.
Ren lifted his head.
“Mr. Muroya, I’m Captain Benning of the Dallas PD. You’re going to be okay. Just stay calm and we’re going to get you some help.”
Instantly, his voice scraped past his throat in protest, and he started to shake his head. No. No. Things were not okay.
“Please, sir, calm down. I’ll get the gag and blindfold off. Just try to be still. You’re hurt, and I don’t want you making it worse.”
Cool hands touched him. He jumped instinctively but tried to take a breath to keep ahold of his panic. Captain Benning wrapped something around him—a blanket, maybe—and carefully removed the blindfold.
Her expression was businesslike as she tucked the blanket around him, but her eyes were tense, worried. She unhooked the gag.
“Cora,” he gasped, once he could find his voice. “He has Cora. She’s . . . hurt. Please.”
The woman’s eyebrows dipped and she shook her head. “Cora?”
Ren closed his eyes, anguish rising up again. “He hurt her. Please. Help her. Find her.”
A gentle hand landed on his shoulder and squeezed. “Ren, take a breath. It’s okay. Cora’s okay.” Her voice had slid from businesslike to a soothing, motherly tone. “She’s the one who helped us find you. I made her stay at the station, but she’ll be at the hospital as soon as we get you there.”
The words didn’t make sense. He opened his eyes, searching her gaze. “But I heard . . .”
Her expression turned grim. “There was a woman here at the house. She was roughed up, but tried to block us from coming inside. We believe she worked for the suspect. Officers have cleared the house. She was the only other person who was here. I swear to you, my daughter is safely at the station, worried sick about you and pissed at me for not letting her come along.”
Relief welled up inside him and he felt the cracks go through him like a sheet of ice in spring. He couldn’t hold it together anymore. Cora was safe. Gordon had mindfucked him one last time. But she was okay.
They would all be okay.
He bent his head and let the exhaustion and the pain and the stress pull him under. Cora’s mother stayed by his side until the EMTs came and started working on him. He heard their voices, talking about blood loss and broken things and shock. They kept saying his name, but he couldn’t respond, couldn’t do anything but let them handle him.
The pain became a thing he could only recognize from a distance. A hum.
He closed his eyes and let the relief of oblivion take him.
THIRTY-TWO
Cora leaned into Hayes, his big arm gathering her next to him, and she put her head on his shoulder. It’d been hours since they’d first seen Ren wheeled in, and the doctors weren’t allowing visitors. All they’d gotten word of was that he was hurt and needed a blood transfusion but was not in critical danger.
That’d been a relief, but the not knowing and not being able to see him for themselves had put both her and Hayes on edge. When she’d gotten to the police station with the photos, she’d been worried about Ren, worried that Gordon was somewhere watching him. What she hadn’t considered was that Gordon would kidnap him. But when Ren wasn’t home or at the office, true fear had set in. And her mother, thankfully, had finally believed her and taken action.