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"Well, we'll hope he can be reasoned with." Touching
Paddy really, really helped. So did the saltines.
"I offered to write him a check." Paddy frowned, grabbed
the jug of water, and drank deep.
"Are you all right, love?" It occurred to him that while he'd
been wrapped up in his own misery, they had probably done
something to Paddy as well, something unpleasant.
"Yeah. Yeah. I. Yeah. I'm okay. I just need to finish this so
we can get out of here." Paddy was worried about the light
bulb, about being stuck down here in the dark without being
able to find their way out.
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"I imagine they have emergency lanterns or torches," he
said, stroking Paddy's back. "Would you like me to look?"
"Torches? Like tiki torches? Those could be handy." His
mind was suddenly filled with images of Paddy shooting
flaming wooden carved spears at the men upstairs and
sending them screaming.
He chuckled. "No, as in, oh. What do you ... flashlights?"
He leaned a little more, kissing Paddy's throat.
"They can be good clubs. The other would have been more
fun." Paddy's lips were soft on his temple, his jaw.
"Of course they would have. You have a strange addiction
to flame, love." They'd get out. Of course they would. And he
would not retch. No indeed. Nope, as Paddy would say.
"Burning is good. It is." Paddy patted him, staring up the
stairs, that amazing mind running in faster and faster circles.
Fire. Ice. Boomer. Explosive. Propane. Propane.
Neil staggered away, searching for a trashcan or some
such. It wasn't Paddy's fault. It was just ... too much.
Somewhere upstairs, someone was furious, mind racing. And
someone else was laughing. He might not survive this, not
with Paddy's fear and worry creeping back in, slamming into
him as he gagged and retched.
Neil finally curled into a ball on the floor. "Paddy? Please.
I'll be all right. It's the drugs." if he could just get Paddy back
into normal thoughts...
Drugs. Drugs. My fault. All my fault. Paddy's hands were
icy cold when they dragged him onto the cot. "You stay there.
I'm going to get you some help."
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Then Paddy grabbed up his makeshift taser that didn't
work, Paddy knew it didn't work yet and the canister of
propane. Then Paddy headed up the stairs and started
banging furiously.
"BOOMER! BOOMER! Neil's sick! You fucking let me OUT!"
"Paddy! Wait. Please." Oh, God, his head was going to
explode. It just was. Doubling up, Neil brought his knees to
his chest and rocked, his head feeling like it was splitting
open to let his brains flow out like lava.
Then the whole world went dark again, fading away in a
dizzying swirl, the last thought in his lacerated brain for
Paddy.
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Chapter Twenty One
The pounding on the door had Sonny rolling out of the bed
and reaching for the Glock, his heart fucking pounding. What
the fuck? What the fuck? Then he heard the voice, calling for
Boomer, and he realized their new guests weren't out cold,
tied up, or even docile anymore. "Precious, I think your old
buddy wants a powwow."
"Huh. Little fuck's loud isn't he?" MJ didn't look nearly as
stressed after a nice nap, grabbing his weapon with that
surprising, creepy ease.
"BOOMER! I'll set this place on fire! You watch me!" Yeah,
the little guy could shriek.
"Yup. Kinda like you when you tell me not to call you
Boomer. How does he get away with it?" Sonny grinned,
watching MJ move. It was one of his favorite things in the
world.
"He's young and silly." He got a quick grin, eyes dancing.
"You think I should get dressed before I answer the door?"
"Well, that depends. You think he can damage your parts?
I like your parts." Oh, he did. He so fucking did.
"Rick? He's into fire. I'd better put some clothes on." MJ
wiggled his ass as he bent over, tempting the hell out of
Sonny. His hands actually flexed. Damn. He had to touch, just
before it disappeared under cloth. Sonny dragged his thumb
along MJ's crease before getting up and putting on jeans. He
oughta act as backup.
"Mmm. We could just shoot them and be done with it..."
Tempting asshole.
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"Boomer! Boomer, please. He's really sick! I'll give you
what you want, but Neil's sick!"
"He's your old frat buddy..." It would be a shame to shoot
the blond. He wondered what kind of rage that would bring on
if he said it. It might be entertaining.
"He is, and a damn smart kid, too." MJ sighed, cracked his
neck and back. "Come on, let's calm Rick down and get some
Phenergan in his man."
"Yeah, okay. I suppose you want me to stay away while
you give the shot?" He waggled one eyebrow, really laying it
on.
He got a sharp, pissy look. "You watch it, Sunshine, or I'll
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