“Still no signal from Paul’s phone,” Frank grunted as they made their way toward the house. “Either he shut the power off or he ditched it. But if he’s still using the phone, the moment it comes on we’ll get his signal and track down his location.”

Provided Paul stays on the phone for at least a minute, Sebastian thought. Frank had GPS trackers and listening devices installed on the phones of every single person who worked for them, and he conducted monthly audits of everyone’s calls, texts, and emails, and even the websites they visited.

Sebastian staggered into the house with Frank, grateful for the air-conditioning. The first floor was used as the main lobby and had minimal office space, most of the exterior walls in the back of the house made of glass. Frank eased him into the modern-looking sofa, which looked uncomfortable as hell, and was. Sebastian lay back and the pain cut itself in half and he felt like he could breathe somewhat normally again.

“Just the ribs?” Frank asked.

“I think so.”

“I reached out to Maya. She’s on her way. I’ll get you some water.”

Water? I want a Scotch, Sebastian felt like screaming. In fact, give me the goddamn bottle. A gallon of booze followed by a handful of Percs or Oxy from Dr. Dawson’s goody bag would hit the spot.

Neither Frank nor Maya would help him out that way, the two of them having been instrumental in getting him into detox and then AA to treat his alcoholism. He had never been a pill guy, but taking any kind of narcotic painkiller would free his addiction from its cage. Within a week, maybe even a couple of days, he would be back to the old Sebastian.

He had to resist the urge, no matter how great the pain. He needed to keep his mind sharp and focused so he could find Paul. Finding Paul and playing around with all the wonderful ways to torture him would be immensely more satisfying than a drink or a drug.

Sebastian licked his lips. Swallowed. “Get me some Tylenol—and some Advil.”

He wiped the sweat from his eyes and then closed them, felt the pain clawing at his nerves, digging its talons into the soft meat of his brain. He tried focusing on Paul as he listened to Frank’s footfalls, and then Sebastian was thinking about Frank living upstairs, alone, and wondered—and not for the first time—if Frank ever felt lonely.

Ava came to him again. Not surprising, as she had been on his mind all day. Ava had been his last thought when he sank through the water, sure he was dying. He didn’t need a shrink to explain why: Ava was unfinished business. She had been the love of his life, and that life had been stolen from him because of a three-for-one taco special at the local Jack in the Box.

The two of them had gone there to eat before hitting a friend’s house party in the neighborhood. There had been a lot of people there—a lot of friends—and he lost track of Ava for a while. When he finally found her, she asked him to leave; the food wasn’t sitting right, and she thought she was going to be sick.