He pulled out his phone to make a call. “Okay, let’s go. I’ll drive.”
His cell was dead.
* * * * *
Mac paced the floor while Elliot sat huddled in a corner and her father channel-surfed. She tried Bruiser’s phone one more time, furious he wasn’t returning her calls or text messages. Once again it went straight to voicemail.
The Joneses would be here any moment. She needed Bruiser here now. Mac and her father had just spent several harrowing hours looking for a kid they thought was lost in downtown Seattle.
Elliot had taken a wild bus ride all over town, texting Mac with clues every half hour or so on the cell Bruiser had given him. Like this was some kind of game. Mac and her father were frantic to find him, and Bruiser was AWOL. Mac was pretty pissed at the world in general right now.
Thanks to Craig’s incredible sleuthing skills, he tracked Elliot’s journey on a bus through different parts of Seattle until Elliot’s tracks led right back here to Mac’s house. Craig had found the kid hiding in the tool shed in the backyard.
The Joneses claimed they hadn’t noticed he was missing until late last night and refused to call the police for reasons Mac didn’t understand.
She didn’t know whether to hug Elliot or chew his ass out, but she did know she’d had her share of drama lately and was fed up.
“I’m sorry,” Elliot mumbled as he hugged himself, looking lost and small.
She stopped pacing in front of the boy. “Did you realize we were scared to death?”
Elliot shrugged and fingered the fabric on his sweatpants.
“You could’ve been hurt or worse.”
“I won’t go back there.” He stuck out his lower lip, and it quivered. His eyes glistened with tears and something close to fear, effectively deflating Mac’s anger.
“Elliot, you have to. They’re your legal guardians.”
“I want you and Bruiser to be my guardians.”
“Things like that take time.” Mac sighed with exasperation. God, she would have cut through the red tape if she could, but she couldn’t.
“You aren’t even trying. Neither of you. You’re telling me you are, but you aren’t.”
“Bruiser has an entire team of attorneys on it.”
Elliot rubbed his eyes with his fists and hiccupped. “He stands in my doorway and watches me. I pretend to be asleep, and he goes away. Tonight, he didn’t go away, he came in after everyone else had gone to bed. When he pulled back the covers, I grabbed my cell phone and ran.” The dam broke and tears streamed down Elliot’s blotchy face.
Which totally explained why the Joneses didn’t want to call the police.
Mac dropped to her knees and wrapped her arms around Elliot. “Oh, Elliot, I didn’t know. Has he touched you?”
Elliot shook his head, sobbing uncontrollably now. “No, and I don’t want him to either. Don’t make me go back there.”
“I won’t,” she promised. Knowing what she knew now, Elliot would never be going back to the Joneses. She wouldn’t allow it, and Bruiser certainly wouldn’t. In fact, she’d have her hands full stopping him from killing the asshole. If only she could find Bruiser.
Mac glanced at her watch, frustrated. She needed Bruiser here. He’d know what to do and how to fix this.
A few minutes later, Mac heard his beast of a vehicle in the driveway. She ran out of the house, ready to rage at him, but something in his weary yet satisfied expression stopped her cold.
“Where’ve you been? I’ve been trying to call you.”
“I know, I’m sorry. Trudy called, then my cell went dead, and we’ve been down at the station all night long. I didn’t want to wake you and—”
“Trudy? The station?” Mac’s mind whirled as she tried to process his words into something that made sense.
“Yeah, she gave the detectives her statement. She’s—” Bruiser’s words were cut short by a convoy of police cars pulling up next door. Illuminated by the orange light of a rising sun, Mac recognized the lead detective on Will’s case as he led uniformed men up the front steps, pounded on the door, and yelled for Sonja and Ben to open up. When no one responded, they broke the door down and entered the house.
Mac grabbed Bruiser’s arm. “What’s happening?”
Elliot walked onto the porch to watch. “Wow, look at all those cop cars.”
Bruiser’s brow furrowed as he focused on Elliot. “Elliot, what are you doing here?”
“That’s why I tried to call you. He ran away.”
“I didn’t run away. I went on an adventure.” Elliot wiped his eyes with his T-shirt and put on a brave face. “Mac says I don’t have to go back.”
Bruiser looked from one to another with an adorably puzzled frown on his haggard face. He ran his hands through his already rumpled golden hair and sank down on the front steps. “Elliot, we’ve had this discussion. I can’t—”
“He isn’t going back,” Mac interrupted Bruiser.
“I’m missing the meat of this story, aren’t I?” Bruiser held his hand over his mouth as he yawned.
“Here they come,” Elliot hid behind Bruiser and grabbed his arm, as the Joneses’ minivan weaved its way through cop cars and parked across the street.
Mac clutched Bruiser’s other arm, talking as fast as she could. “His uncle has been standing in Elliot’s doorway late at night. Elliot fakes like he’s asleep. Tonight, after everyone else was asleep, he approached Elliot’s bed and pulled back the covers.”
Mac didn’t have time to say more as Ruth and John crossed the street. Bruiser’s face turned hard and formidable. That muscle jerked in his jaw, and he looked ready to beat the crap out of someone—a very fat and pompous someone.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” Mac hissed as she held his arm.
“Can I castrate the bastard?”
Mac shook her head, even though she’d love to give Bruiser the thumbs-up.
Bruiser balled his hands into fists, spread his
