Chapter 13“I have your boy,” a man’s voice—Beau was certain it was disguised from its roughness—said when he answered his phone. “He’s keeping me company at your place. Cute kid. If I was into guys I might have some fun with him. As it is, well…” There was silence for a brief second, before Beau heard a cry of pain that cut off abruptly. “That was just a taste of what he’ll go through if you aren’t here in fifteen minutes. You come alone, and unarmed.”
Then the caller hung up.
Beau didn’t bother to let anyone know he was leaving. He was out of the club, in his car, racing to the apartment—his only concern saving Rick and killing whoever had him.
He slammed to a stop in front of his building, jumping out of the car. It wasn’t until he was in the lobby that some vestige of common sense to
