"At first." The words tasted bitter. "Because you realized you could use my research to disappear into the middle of nowhere."
Mitch's hand clamped around my wrist, squeezing hard. A silent message to calm down.
"I didn't want any of this," Doug said, his voice shaking. "But I need to protect Roxanne. Keep her safe. That's all I want."
My pulse hammered in my ears, but I forced myself to think. "We’ll figure this out. There has to be another way."
"I can help you," Mitch said quietly.
Doug laughed, but there was no humor in it. "You’re pitching that you'll help me? After I just told you I used Charlie? After I pointed a gun at both of you?" He shook his head. "I'm not an idiot, cowboy. I know bullshit when I hear it."
"I mean it," Mitch said. "I've got money. Not two hundred grand, but enough to buy you some time to get Roxanne somewhere safe while we figure it out."
Finally, sunshine filtered through the cave, and the shadows lifted enough to see Doug properly, and that scared me even more. Even his expression was unhinged.
Doug shifted against the wall, wincing as he tried to push himself upright. His left hand pressed against his ribs, the same spot he'd been favoring for days. Or maybe longer. How many signs had I missed?
"These guys don't do payment plans," Doug said through gritted teeth as he gradually stood. "It's all or nothing. If I show up with anything less, they'll make Roxanne pay for my mistakes." He aimed the rifle at us again. "When they're done with her, they'll finish what they started with me."
"Doug!" I raised my hands. "Put the gun down."
"Shut up and get up," Doug barked. The rifle dipped slightly before he jerked it back up. His hands trembled.
Maybe he didn't want to do this, but he was doing it anyway.
Mitch released me slowly, his hand sliding down my arm before he gave it a firm squeeze. "Easy," he murmured.
As I pushed myself up, pain shot through my right elbow. Shit! The bruise had swollen in size overnight. My palms were scraped raw, and my knees protested as I stood. Every aching muscle had gone stiff while I'd slept.
Mitch's hand steadied me under my good elbow as I struggled to stand. Then he jumped to his feet beside me, like he wasn't bruised and battered at all. Everything about his movements screamed of a man in control and ready for battle.
Doug's eyes were bloodshot, the whites shot through with red veins. Desperation flickered behind his eyes, making my skin crawl.
"Both of you, let's go." He gestured with the rifle. "Now."
"Okay, we’re cooperating," Mitch growled.
"You try anything, asshole, and Charlie pays for it. Understand?" Doug's voice was cold and flat.
My blood turned to ice.
"Understood," Mitch said, his voice full of controlled fury. "Just stay cool."
Mitch put his hands on my shoulders, guiding me in front of him, and guarding my back from Doug and the stupid gun.
"No." Doug glared at Mitch. "You first."
"Okay." Mitch raised his hands and led the way into the tunnel, back the way they came.
I followed Mitch, and Doug came behind, sandwiching me between the two men, making sure Mitch couldn't make a move. Doug's breathing sounded labored, pained. Or maybe his injuries were killing him. Good, I hope he’s in agony.
"Go." The rotten bastard jabbed the rifle into my back.
"I am." I shot him a glare over my shoulder, clenching my teeth so hard my jaw hurt.
He gave a sick smirk.
We were at the mercy of a man who'd lost his mind somewhere between finding those jewels and deciding our lives were worth less than his debts.