Deserted: Book #3, Auctioned Series Read online

  Deserted

  Book #3, Auctioned Series

  Cara Dee

  Deserted

  Copyright © 2020 by Cara Dee

  All rights reserved

  * * *

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment and may not be reproduced in any way without documented permission of the author, not including brief quotes with links and/or credit to the source. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This is a work of fiction and all references to historical events, persons living or dead, and locations are used in a fictional manner. Any other names, characters, incidents, and places are derived from the author’s imagination. The author acknowledges the trademark status and owners of any wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction. Characters portrayed in sexual situations are 18 or older.

  Edited by Silently Correcting Your Grammar, LLC.

  Formatted by Eliza Rae Services.

  Contents

  Auctioned

  Thank you

  Book 3

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Gray and Darius will return in Played

  More from Cara

  About Cara

  Auctioned

  A series within the Camassia Cove Universe

  Book #1, Auctioned

  Book #2, Stranded

  Book #3, Deserted

  Camassia Cove is a town in northern Washington created to be the home of some exciting love stories. Each novel taking place here is a standalone, with the exception of sequels, and they will vary in genre and pairing. What they all have in common is the town in which they live. Some are friends and family. Others are complete strangers. Some have vastly different backgrounds. Some grew up together. It’s a small world, and many characters will cross over and pay a visit or two in several books—Cara’s way of giving readers a glimpse into the future of their favorite characters. Oh, who is she kidding; they are characters she’s unable of saying good-bye to. But, again, each novel stands on its own, and spoilers will be avoided as much as possible.

  Deserted is the third book in the series taking place in the Camassia Cove universe, and all five books will center around Gray and Darius. It is not required to read previous Camassia novels to get the full enjoyment of the Auctioned Series, but if you're interested in keeping up with secondary characters, the town, the timeline, and future novels, check out Camassia Cove's own site at www.camassiacove.com. There you will also see which characters have gotten their own books already as well as which books are in the works.

  Thank you

  Eliza, this one’s for you.

  Book 3

  One

  Definitely that guy.

  Gray stuck some fries into his mouth and watched a man enter the gas station. Lunch consisted of fries and fried chicken, and Gray had opted to eat it outside. The sun was shining down on Georgia this early afternoon. The tailgate of the rented truck had been dropped to be a makeshift seat, and the men and women heading into the gas station’s convenience store the next lot over served as entertainment.

  Because it was entertaining to Gray to estimate who he could probably kill with his bare hands.

  He swung his legs lightly and dragged two fries through his ketchup.

  His mind was, for the first time in ages, perfectly at ease.

  The fried chicken was fucking delicious too.

  Gray had driven out of Fort Lauderdale in the middle of the night. He’d left a sleeping Darius in the bed Gray had practically called theirs. He’d left notes for Mom and Darius. He’d grabbed his bag. He’d spoken one last time to Abel on the phone. And no, Gray’s best friend still couldn’t dissuade him from doing this. He’d made a promise.

  He cocked his head and eyed another guy from behind the safety of his shades. That guy—no way. There wasn’t a chance Gray could take him. The dude probably weighed twice as much as he did, and his denim vest had a Confederate flag with two rifles crossing each other on the back.

  Dare could take him.

  Darius could take anyone.

  Gray had to get stronger. He was so done feeling weak and pathetic. It dragged him down.

  He shook his head and bit into his last piece of chicken. He would get stronger, goddammit. He’d given himself a pep talk about it all the way up the coast of Florida. Now wasn’t the time to ruin the peace in his mind.

  The truth was, a sense of freedom had expanded his chest with each mile he’d put between himself and his family. He hadn’t seen that coming. He hadn’t anticipated feeling so relieved to be away from everyone.

  Here at the side of the road somewhere north of Savannah, breaths came easier, and his heart wasn’t as heavy.

  There was freedom in being nobody, in being just a face. No one would pass Gray and think of him as a victim.

  A mother headed into the gas station next, and Gray jumped down from the tailgate and nodded to himself. He could take her too.

  And her kid.

  Gray continued up I-95 for the next several hours. He drove in silence but with a window rolled down. He took deep breaths and practiced his concentration. Because as long as he focused on the insignificant things around him, the peace remained in his brain. His gaze was fixed in place. There was only straight ahead. There were only the passing cars and the lanes he shifted between. South Carolina was a wasteland. There was nothing to see, aside from the occasional truck stop. Burned rubber on the side of the interstate, trees, adopt-a-highway signs, and a merciless sun. That was it.

  Inhale.

  Exhale.

  In through his nose, out through his mouth.

  Traffic seemed to get heavier up ahead, so he switched lanes and drove past two trucks that reeked of diesel and one van—

  Gray flinched and gnashed his teeth as panic tried to slash its way through him.

  Mere weeks ago, he’d been inside one of those vans. Or several. He’d spent countless hours wondering if the people around him could even guess they were sharing the road with men and women who’d been kidnapped and forced into slavery.

  What if there were people trapped inside that van right now?

  Gray white-knuckled the wheel and sped up.

  What was he gonna do, stop every van he saw?

  In his darkest hours, he’d pleaded yes. He’d begged for humanity to be more suspicious.

  He drew in a breath that settled painfully under the pressure in his chest.

  To distract himself, he glanced at his phone in the center console well. He picked it up and checked the screen. The background picture had been taken before Isla and Jack had returned to Washington. She was ready to pop. In fact, Jack had taken her to the doctor before they flew home. Her belly was huge. As was her smile in the picture.

  Gray knew he was lucky to have such a great family. His stepsister had wormed her way into his heart in the span of weeks after Mom and Aiden had met, and Isla had quickly become someone Gray gladly turned to for support and coffee dates. But all that was fucking ruined. Because Gray’s smile in the photo was fake, and he couldn’t pretend anymore. He wasn’t the same guy he’d been. He was nowhere near it.

  There wa
s no text from Willow, Darius’s little sister, so Gray dropped his phone again and kept driving.

  Inhale.

  Exhale.

  He’d blocked all numbers in his contact list except for one. Willow was a new addition. He’d called her the other day, and he’d cursed his stupidity when there’d been no verbal response. He’d remembered a few seconds too late that Willow was nonverbal around strangers. He’d texted instead, and now she was his partner in crime. She was around his age and fantastic.

  Gray had gone to college with people he affectionately called tech nerds; Willow went so far beyond that term, it wasn’t even funny. He barely understood half of what she was talking about. But, the most important thing, she’d agreed to “put feelers out” and get him in touch with someone who knew Philadelphia.

  The text he’d been waiting for arrived just as he drove past Wilson. North Carolina was about as exciting as South, but he had to stop soon. He’d been on the road for fourteen hours, and a headache was setting in.

  Traffic had just eased up on the interstate. Most people were at home having dinner by now.

  Gray drove past an RV before he returned to the right lane where he could glance at his message.

  Sorry for the delay. I spoke to too many people before I remembered I have a local friend who might be able to help. I vouch for him and gave him your number. You might know him. Dominic Cleary. He will call you soon.

  Gray knew of Dominic. He worked at a youth center in Camas, the district with the only other hockey team in town. Gray had switched to the Camas Ravens back when he’d tried to get away from Craig, who coached Gray’s former team. In his old life, Gray hadn’t done much more than pine for the straight-gone-closeted-gay-but-married hockey coach. Gray had been so sure of his feelings; he’d firmly believed he was in love with Craig. Now, everything had changed.

  It was laughable. In a matter of months, Gray had gone from thinking he was an adult to…whatever he was now. Either way, his old problems belonged to a fucking kid who didn’t exist anymore.

  Gray blew out a breath and spied the sign of a Marriott hotel in the distance. The post shot up in the nothingness along with signs for a gas station and a Waffle House.

  As he took the next exit, he rolled up the window and switched on the heat. The farther north he drove, the colder it got. Tomorrow, he would stop somewhere and buy a jacket, ’cause it was, after all, the dead of winter. Philadelphia in January would sting.

  Or was it February yet? No, it couldn’t be. Fucking hell, Gray had really lost touch with reality.

  February… Abel had a birthday coming up.

  Gray was usually all over that. He used to love taking care of his friends and family. Now he was running away from them.

  He had no choice, though. He had to do this, and he had to do it alone.

  There were two people he tried not to think about too much—Mom and Darius. As long as Gray steered clear of them, he just might survive this escape.

  When he reached Marriott’s roadside hotel for budget travelers, he pulled into the parking lot and dug out his wallet. Mom and Aiden had given him a credit card since Gray’s old cards had been frozen. “Before we get you up and running again,” Aiden had said, followed by, “Don’t be afraid to use it.”

  Gray had used it to rent the truck so far.

  Grabbing his bag—

  He stopped when his phone rang. Washington area code. A number that didn’t already exist in his phone, so that had to mean…

  “Gray,” he answered.

  There was a throat clearing on the other end. “Hey, I’m a friend of Willow’s. Dominic.”

  Gray let go of his bag and got comfortable again. “Hi. Thank you for calling.”

  “No problem. She told me you wanna find someone in Philly?”

  Gray nodded to himself, registering Dominic’s East Coast accent. “Yes. I don’t know how much else she told you…”

  “I know who you are.” Dominic’s tone changed slightly. It became less business. “We’re all glad you made it back. The Quinns are great people. You’re in good hands with them.”

  A little too good. It was one of the reasons Gray had left Darius behind.

  “Yeah, they’ve been amazing to me,” Gray said distractedly. “When I was—” He stopped himself. He didn’t wanna go there. “I lost someone,” he went with. “Before he died, he asked me to find his little brother.”

  “I understand,” Dominic replied. “In Philly, I assume?”

  “Yeah. And the thing is, all I have to go on is a name and his age.” Gray did his best to push the image of Jonas out of his head. Their final few seconds together had been sheer purgatory. “My friend and his brother didn’t have a family, and the kid—he’s eight—has been raised to stay away from the authorities. He’s not a stranger to the streets.”

  “Got it.” Dominic went quiet for a beat. “I’mma be honest wit’chu, Gray. I hesitate because Philly can be fucking rough. I guess I wanna make sure you know what you’re getting yourself into—’cause while I definitely want you to help this kid, I don’t want you to get hurt even more.”

  Gray wasn’t sure how to respond at first. He appreciated the concern, maybe, but Dominic didn’t know the hell Gray had already come back from. Unless the same situation waited for him in Philadelphia, he wasn’t scared. Perhaps that was naïve of him…

  It didn’t matter.

  “I made a promise,” he said quietly. Resolutely. “I’m not looking for trouble or anything. I just wanna find the boy.”

  “Yeah, I get it. The problem is, my only contact—that I believe would work the best—will take you straight to trouble, so to speak. It’s a guy I worked for on and off when I lived on the streets myself.”

  Oh. So, Dominic really knew Philadelphia that way.

  “Would it kill me to just talk to him?” Gray asked, somewhat patiently.

  Dominic sighed. “No, probably not. He owes me a favor, so you’re gonna have to run with that.”

  “I won’t cash that in,” Gray protested. “I only wanna talk.”

  There was a hint of a smile in Dominic’s voice when he answered. “No, you don’t. You wanna find someone, right? You want information, and information costs with these people.”

  These people. Fucking great. Gray had barely escaped from one criminal organization, and now, by the sound of it, he’d be going up against another.

  “That’s not my life anymore,” Dominic said. “Cash in the favor. It’s not like I have a use for it, but you will—trust. It’ll also make him listen to what you have to say.”

  “Okay.” Gray swallowed his nerves and pushed forward. “Thank you. How do I find this guy?”

  “There’s a bar. I’ll text you the address. You go over to the bartender and ask for Mick—he owns the place. You ask him—only him—for Kellan Ford. And you tell Mick to relay the message that you’re a friend of Dominic Cleary. Got it?”

  “Got it,” Gray copied. Jesus Christ, he better not get himself into a mess now. “You believe this is necessary?”

  “Unfortunately,” Dominic responded grimly. “Street kids in Philly who don’t wanna be found?” He let out a whistle. “They’re resourceful little shits.”

  Despite it all, Gray mustered a little smirk. He’d heard from Jonas that his brother was feisty. Feisty was good.

  Gray would just have to suck it up. End of.

  Slumping down on the bed in his little room, he sighed and brought his duffel bag closer. Darkness had fallen by the time he’d wrapped up his call with Dominic Cleary, taking the last of the heat of the South with it. Tomorrow, he’d be far enough north that his wardrobe of sweats and hoodies would need some additions.

  First things first, though. He tugged off his T-shirt and threw it next to him on the bed. Clothes still didn’t feel great on him. It was as if his skin had become hypersensitive. The softest of fabrics felt scratchy and confining. For months, he hadn’t been allowed to wear anything other than underwear; one woul
d think he’d relish the opportunity to dress however he wanted. Instead, he preferred nothing but a pair of sweats.

  The wounds that covered his entire torso had mostly healed, but some of the scars weren’t pretty, and his skin was dry in places. He could feel them, especially when he wore clothes. A tiny thread could brush over an uneven surface of his skin, and he’d shudder in revulsion.

  He dug through his bag and did a quick inventory of his belongings. Some clothes, his meds that he had to take before bed, toothbrush, toothpaste, phone charger, few pairs of boxer briefs, socks, and the piece of paper with instructions for breathing exercises in case he had a panic attack. His trauma specialist in Fort Lauderdale had written them down for him to learn, which he hadn’t done yet. He’d get to it.

  There was something else too, and Gray frowned. What was this? He retrieved an envelope from the bottom of the bag and flipped it over.

  Knucklehead.

  He chewed on the inside of his cheek as a pang hit his chest. That motherfucker.

  Even though he was tempted to throw the envelope away, he knew he wouldn’t. For chrissakes, this was the problem with Darius—and one of the reasons Gray had left. Because when Darius was around, Gray couldn’t stay away. And now the asshole had left a note.

  Did Darius have to know everything? Or was Gray just that predictable?