Stray (Shifters #1)(64)

“Yes?”
I paused, rethinking what I was about to say. But I’d made too much progress toward conquering my fears to back down now. “Can I talk to Marc?”
“He’s not here.”
“Oh.” I swallowed thickly, trying to hide my simultaneous relief and disappointment. The last thing I needed was Daddy reading anything into my request. I’d never hear the end of it.
“You’ll see him in an hour.” Daddy let his meaning hang in the air for me to do with as I would. He was learning.
“Oh. Okay.” Marc was with the nearest search party, on his way to Mississippi. My pulse raced, and I was glad my father couldn’t hear my heartbeat over the phone. At least, I didn’t think he could.
“I need to talk to Ryan now,” he said, gently drawing me out of my thoughts.
“Sure, just a sec.” I grabbed a pair of jeans lying over the back of Eric’s desk chair. Abby’s key was in the right front pocket, and I took the time for another abbreviated victory dance with it clenched in my fist. Then I ran all the way down the hall, through the living room and kitchen, and shoved open the basement door with the phone in one hand and the key in the other.
“Abby, I found it,” I shouted the minute my foot hit the first step. I stopped on the fourth tread, checking my signal to make sure I hadn’t lost the connection with my father. So far, so good. As I knelt to set Eric’s phone on the step, the first notes of “Bad Boys” rang out from my pocket.
Damn. Standing with Eric’s Nokia pressed to my ear once again, I shoved the key into one pocket, then fished Ryan’s phone from the other. The area code was unfamiliar; it couldn’t be my mother. I only knew of one other possibility.
Ryan confirmed it for me. “That’s Miguel’s dedicated ring.”
Twenty-Seven

“Daddy, Miguel’s calling Ryan.” I spoke into one phone with the other held at arm’s length, as if it might explode.
“Tell him if he plays along, I’ll let him live,” my father said. “That’s all I’m willing to promise at this point.”
I stared at my brother. “He says—”
Ryan cut me off with an impatient wave of his hand. “I heard him, but I need more than that. I want out of the cage.”
“No.” I didn’t bother to ask my father because I knew he’d agree with me. “Daddy made his offer. Your life for your cooperation. But if your hesitation blows our chance at catching them, even if Daddy spares your life, Miguel won’t. And I’ll leave you locked up for him to find.”
“Bad Boys” played on, and Miguel was seconds away from being diverted to voice mail.
“You’d leave me here to die?” Ryan’s face made it clear he didn’t believe me.
“Assuming I don’t decide to kill you myself.”
His eyes grew smug, his leer cocky. “You wouldn’t kill me.”
I glanced pointedly at Eric’s body, and he followed my gaze. “Would you have let Miguel sell me to the highest bidder?”
Ryan crossed his arms over his chest, considering, and his phone kept ringing. His pose was relaxed, as if he thought he had the upper hand, but a bead of sweat rolled slowly down his forehead. I’d scared him. Without unsheathing a claw, I’d scared my brother worse than my father had managed to do in twenty-eight years. That made me wonder what else I was capable of.
“Take it or leave it,” I said. “Now.”
“Fine. But you have to tell Dad I was coerced.”“I already have.” I set Eric’s phone down on the fourth step to keep it from disconnecting, then raced down the stairs to hand the other one to Ryan.
“What do you want me to do?” His voice shook as his thumb hovered over the Yes button.
“Answer the phone and act normal. If he suspects anything, the deal’s off. Same thing goes if you try to keep the phone afterward,” I said in a last-minute burst of good sense.
Ryan leaned his forehead against the bars and answered his phone. “Hello?” Hopefully Miguel would hear grogginess in his voice where I heard defeat.
From the other end of the line came the response. It was Sean, using Miguel’s phone. I repressed an urge to jump for joy over my luck as I tiptoed back up the stairs. It was about time the tables turned.
“I was on the pot.” Ryan rolled his eyes while Sean yelled something about missing his exit. “No, you did it right. Just keep going north until you see the sign for…”
When I was sure there would be no problem, I tuned him out and whispered goodbye to my father, promising to call him if anything changed. To Abby, I motioned that I would let her out as soon as Ryan hung up the phone. She nodded, but I knew she was getting impatient, and I didn’t blame her. But I couldn’t take the chance that Sean or Miguel might overhear me opening the cage.
“I swear Sean is an idiot,” Ryan said, tucking the phone into his pocket. “His sense of direction is so poor I can’t understand how he found his way out of his mother’s womb.”
“That’s a lovely picture, Ryan, thanks.” I bounced down the steps and let Abby out of her cage. She nearly bowled me over with the enthusiasm of her hug.
“Let’s get out of here,” she said, glancing at her empty cage in disgust and undisguised fear.
“Sure.” I nodded toward the stairs. “There’s plenty to eat in the fridge, if you can stand to look at the mess in the kitchen. Why don’t you go have some breakfast.”
She stared at me like I’d suggested she step back into the cage, for old time’s sake. “Faythe, I can’t stay here. We’re out. Let’s go.”
“Marc and the guys will be here in less than an hour. We have to wait for them.”
“Great. A family reunion  ,” Ryan groaned, still leaning against the front wall of his cage. “It can’t get much better than this.” He hadn’t moved since I’d snapped the lock into place, and as far as I knew, he’d only glanced at Eric once.
“You’re right.” I held out my hand for his phone. “You’ve got it pretty good. Unless I decide to kick your ass while you’re locked up and defenseless.” 
Ryan laughed as he fished the phone from his pocket. It was not the reaction I’d expected. “If you’re implying that you’ve ever been defenseless, in any sense of the word, you are sorely mistaken. I think Eric, here, is ample evidence of that.”
I glared at him, considering a retort. But in the end I kept my mouth shut because he was right. I wasn’t defenseless. In fact, I was glad to have the fact acknowledged, even if only by him. Grinning, I turned back to Abby.
She was gone.
“I’m sorry, Faythe,” she said from halfway up the stairs. “I can’t stay. It’s too…horrible.”
I caught up with her in the kitchen, grabbing her arm to stop her. “Sit down for a minute, Abby.” I pushed a kitchen chair toward her and she stared at it as if it might swallow her whole.
“I’d rather stand.”
“Fine. I understand. But I can’t let you leave by yourself. Daddy has a team on the way, and one of the guys will drive you to the ranch. Your parents are there waiting for you, Abby. Don’t make them worry any more than they already are by running off on your own.”
How had I gone from being a habitual runner to counseling my cousin to stay put?
She hesitated, begging me with huge, haunted brown eyes not to make her stay. I felt for her but I stood firm. She couldn’t go without an escort. Since I’d agreed to work for my father, she was officially under my protection, and if anything happened to her on my watch, there would be hell to pay for all involved. Especially me.
I was two seconds from threatening to lock her back up when she gave in with an exaggerated sigh. “Fine, I’ll stay. But I could use a shower.”
Thank goodness. I really hadn’t wanted to physically detain her after all she’d been through already. “Through the living room and down the hall. Second door on the right. I can’t vouch for how clean it is.”
“So long as there’s soap and hot water, I don’t care.” She turned on her heel, still clearly irritated with me. The shower started a minute later, and soon afterward, sobs joined the rhythm of the running water, with a halting, hiccuping beat of their own. I wished there was somewhere I could go to give her privacy. She had the right to grieve for her innocence alone, but I wasn’t willing to go back into the basement.
Ten minutes later, Abby joined me in the kitchen. She was wearing the same clothes but she smelled like soap and her hair was clean, hanging halfway down her back in damp curls.
“Feel any better?” I asked, kicking out the chair opposite me at the table.
“No.” She wrapped her hands around the curved chair back. “Just cleaner. And hungry.”
“Help yourself.” I nodded toward the refrigerator.
She chose three frozen breakfast burritos, stuffing them all in the microwave at once. We sat in silence until the timer buzzed, then I watched her chew as I tried to think of something to say. We’d been through a lot together in the last couple of days, but somehow discussing any of it seemed wrong, like a child’s reluctance to talk about a bad dream for fear of it coming true. Only, our nightmares already had.