“Hush now,” Snaggletooth said, stopping his pacing for a few moments. “I need to think, and I can’t with all that noise.”
She sat perfectly still, hoping he would forget about her. When she quieted, he resumed pacing again. Then he opened a couple of cabinets and threw some things into a bag. He stayed stock-still for a moment. She could see him by the glow of the flashlight.
After seemingly coming to a decision, he grabbed a dirty rag out of the small sink in front of him and started to wipe everything down. He didn’t seem to miss anything. He ran the rag over every surface in the trailer then threw it back in the sink.
Afterward, he turned and shined the light on her as she fought to get to her feet. “Oh, no, you don’t.” He rushed over and pushed her back down on the floor, pressing a boot to her chest. He held her still for a moment before rushing back into the other room.
Bailey fought to get up, but her limbs were too weak, and she was too slow from the drugs. She glanced over and watched as Snaggletooth reached for his bag and pulled out a hypodermic needle.
“No!” Bailey screamed through her attempt to calm her breathing. She inhaled slowly and exhaled, concentrating on each breath. “I’m fine. I don’t need…you don’t have to…please, don’t drug me again!”
“Calm down, girly. It’s okay. Just a prick,” he said before sticking the needle between his lips and slamming her back to the ground. He placed a knee on her chest, pulling her tied hands onto his lap. She could hardly fight due to the effects of the last injection he’d given her. She bucked up and down, but it made no difference. He tied a strap around her upper arm, and, seconds later, she felt the prick. She wasn’t sure how he could even see what he was doing, but he’d obviously hit his mark because she felt the instant rush of heat and confusion.
He scrambled to his feet and held her head to the side as she threw up again. It was nothing but the little bit of water she’d had and bile. He picked her up off the floor, and she moaned as her thoughts seem to drift away from her physical body.
Like magic, all her pain dissipated, and she felt heavy and sleepy. Yes…she could sleep. She would like to sleep and forget…forget everything. A few minutes later, she thought she heard a car start, but she couldn’t be sure. She wasn’t sure of anything just then.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
It had been five days, and Ryan ached. Everything on his body hurt; it was a clear reflection of his emotional state. He downed his beer and dropped the empty bottle on the bar. His eyes drifted up to the big screen on the wall behind the main bar. The picture of Dex flared his anger again. If it weren’t for the fact that Bailey would be pissed at him for doing it, he’d throw his empty bottle at the TV.
At least the son-of-a-bitch was dead. He reached over and poured another glass of whiskey. The beauty of being a bar owner was having all the booze you wanted. Lucas came up behind him and grabbed the glass and bottle of whiskey before walking behind the bar and dumping it in the sink. “I think you’ve had enough.”
Ryan pointed to Lucas and said, “I think you’re right.” He slid off the barstool and swayed a few times as he started to pace. He ran through everything he knew about William Dexter as he wandered around the room in a haze. The man liked to ski; that’s how they’d met him. He knew how to handle a boat. But that was the extent to which Ryan knew Dex.
“Why the fuck didn’t I pay closer attention?” he shouted to the empty room. “Why the fuck didn’t I ask more questions? Why didn’t I take the time to learn more about him?”
“Ryan, there’s no way you could’ve prevented this. Nobody could’ve prevented this,” Wade said as he stepped around the bar to face Ryan.
“That’s fucking great, man,” Ryan slurred. “That’s fucking great, but, Wade, man, that’s just not enough.” Ryan tried to lean on a chair, but fell to the ground, taking the chair with him in the process. As he balanced on a knee to stand back up, he said, “You see…man…I’m pretty sure…she’s…she’s dead. I mean, why keep her alive?” He turned toward Wade when he finally got to his feet. “I mean, seriously, Dex didn’t expect the FBI to get a DNA match since he didn’t know we met with them a week earlier than planned. So…so, of course, he just needed to get rid of her to get out of this mess.”
“She’s not dead! Don’t say that again!” Mae shouted, entering the bar from the dock stairs. “Fuck you. She’s not dead. If you want to sit here and wallow in your beer and feel sorry for yourself, go ahead, but I’m not giving up on her.”
“Mae, he’s just upset,” Lucas said, taking her arm.
“What the hell do you think I am?” She snatched her arm back. “I’m upset, but you don’t see me getting shit-faced.”
Ryan plopped down into a chair. She was right. He was a complete fuck-up.
Wade walked over and sat a cup of coffee down in front of him. “It’s okay, Ryan. You have time to sober up.”
Ryan took the coffee and drank it down. They were right. He wasn’t doing his job. He was supposed to protect Bailey, but he didn’t. He was supposed to look for her, and he hadn’t. He was supposed to find her, but
