 Wyatt twisted his torso and repeated his flexing and extending exercises of a few minutes ago. Hopefully between that and the effects of adrenaline, he’d be able to move and fight efficiently if the need arose. Val groaned again, louder this time. When Wyatt turned back to look at him, he saw Val lift one hand sluggishly to his forehead. He wasted no time getting back to Val’s side, setting the flashlight on the floor beside him. “God, Val, this is all my fault. I’m sorry. So sorry,” Wyatt said. He knelt and slipped one arm under Val’s shoulders, then helped him to sit up. “What are you…? How is…? Sorry for what?” Val rubbed his head and looked around. “We’re inside the storage unit.” “I lost my temper and threatened Kevin.” Val squinted at him and quirked an eyebrow. “Didn’t I tell you I thought that was hot?” Wyatt grabbed Val around the waist and hoisted him to his feet. “We gotta get outta here before he comes back. What do you remember?” “Uh, he shot you with a Taser. I guess that’s what it was. You looked like you were having a seizure.” Val’s face paled, and his voice trembled. “I think technically that’s what was happening.” Wyatt gave Val a squeeze and tried to laugh a little, but it came out weak. “I jumped Kevin from behind, which I found out too late was a bad idea. He’s like some ninja sumo wrestler. You guys are fuckin’ scary sometimes,” Val said. “You actually jumped on his back?” Wyatt asked. When Val nodded, Wyatt continued, “Don’t ever do that. You really just give your opponent the upper hand.” “Thanks, now you tell me. He had the advantage all right. I can kick ass virtually, but in real life, not so much.” Wyatt rubbed one hand over Val’s hair and pressed his lips to Val’s forehead. “You do perfectly.” They leaned on one another and crossed the few feet to the smaller of the two doors. Wyatt tried the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. “Jammed or locked from the outside somehow. Let’s try the bay door, though I suppose that’s locked as well.” He tried to open the bigger door, but it was indeed locked. “Got your phone?” Wyatt let go of Val and patted himself down. “Mine is gone.” Val leaned against the small section of wall between the two doors and searched his pockets. He shook his head. “No.” “Well, it was a long shot he’d leave us with a way to call for help.” Wyatt turned and took another look around the unit. “There was a tool chest here. Kevin probably took that, too.” He noted the fire extinguisher he’d seen earlier had been removed from its holder. A shiver worked its way down his spine, and an urgent need to get out tickled at the base of his skull. “No, I bet he never saw it. I kept tripping over it, so I shoved it back there.” Val pointed to a spot near the far end of the room. Wyatt grabbed Val’s face with both hands and gave him a wet, sloppy, noisy kiss. “I love you. You’re a natural at this!” He headed to the spot Val pointed to. “I’m really not,” Val muttered. “Your phone is right here.” Val stopped next to some boxes that were stacked about hip high. He held Wyatt’s phone up for him to see. Something cold and raw swept through Wyatt’s gut and made his breath catch in his throat. The shiver and desperate desire to escape now threatened to overshadow Wyatt’s ability to think clearly. He shoved speculation and conjecture about why his phone was there away. Don’t panic. He recited rule number one and focused on the problem at hand as he’d been trained to do many years ago. “Val, where is that toolbox?” It was an effort for Wyatt to keep his voice even and calm. Kevin wouldn’t forget the phone or overlook it. It had been left for a reason. Val pointed to one of the benches. “Under that.” His thumb poised over the phone’s screen. “At least we can call—” A call came in, and Val stared at the phone in his hand, eyebrows going up. “Unavailable.”    
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