"Do I look stupid?" When Riley didn't answer, Elliot repeated himself. "Do. I. Look. Fucking. Stupid?" The gun wavered a bit, and Riley retreated until his back was against the car door.

"No."

"I have an account. I want you to transfer over what I need."

Relief flooded through Riley. He could do that. He moved and felt the weight of his cell in his pocket. Shit. He should have given that to Hayley. God, did she even know how to use a cell?

"Get in the house." Elliot's harsh voice broke into his thoughts, and he snapped back to see Elliot gesturing with the gun, indicating Riley should go first. As he turned to go around the car, he caught sight of Hayley's face and her eyes wide with fear. Fuck. If he got his hands around Elliot's neck, he would surely squeeze the life out of him for scaring Hayley like this.

He would kill him.

* * * *

Sitting at the computer with a gun to his head made it nearly impossible for Riley to concentrate. From where they sat, in the small office next to their bedroom, Riley could see where he and Jack had slept only hours before. The bedclothes were still awry from their excitement that morning, and Riley focused on that, his fingers hesitating over keys.

A slip of paper was dropped on the desk, and the feel of cold hard steel at his temple pulled him back to the here and now. "Nice little offshore encrypted transfer from you, Mr Hayes."

"Six million?" Riley read from the paper. "Where do you think I'm going to find that kind of—" The barrel of the gun pressed harder.

"It's pocket change for you. A whole new life for me. Fucking find it."

Riley wracked his brains. Any ready cash he had was tied up with Hayley now, and all he could recall was one personal account and another set up for CH Consultancy. He had no idea how much was in either, and not for the first time, he cursed the ignorance that only a very rich man could ever suffer from, as well as his own idiocy. The screen confirmed the first account held two point four million, and he transferred the entire balance to the bank indicated on the note. The other only held just over one.

"It's all I can get hold of in the short amount of time." Just shy of three and a half million. Elliot barked a laugh.

"Poor little rich boy," he singsonged, and moved back away from Riley, extending his arm with the gun. "It'll have to do," he added. Riley hovered over the Enter key. When he pressed it, was Elliot going to shoot him?

"Press the freaking key," Elliot ordered. He gestured with the gun. "Or I'll do it for you when you're dead." Expecting to die the very next minute, Riley did what he was told, and confirmation of transaction appeared on the screen. No bullet tore through his head, and he looked up at Elliot, wishing his life would flash before his eyes and, instead, only experiencing fear so thick it hurt. Some of the madness had dissipated from Elliot's eyes. Riley's assailant appeared calm and icily dispassionate.

"Get up and go in your bedroom," he ordered.

Riley stood and moved to the adjoining room at the point of the gun. If he had to die, he thought to himself, he wished it wasn't going to be in the room that held so much evidence of his life with Jack in the clothes scattered around the room, the jeans over the end of the bed, the half empty bottle of water Jack had on his nightstand.

"Killing me will destroy Hayley." He tried to reach the heart of the man with the gun. Instead, Elliot tossed him some heavy-duty cuffs. Hard and unyielding, they felt cold in his hands.

"Cuff yourself to the bed."

Riley closed the cuff around one hand, and inspired, he wrapped the chain around the third carved post from the right and finished off by snapping the other side shut. He was now effectively a prisoner.

"I'm not a killer, Hayes," Elliot said simply. "I like Hayley, always have. Your money is well hidden now, perks of being a hacker. People underestimate an ex-con, but a few key strokes and Elliot Anderson becomes someone else, a ghost no one can find." He reached forward to grab at something lying there. With a barked laugh, he lifted the items to look at them closer and then pocketed them. "Two Rolexes? Who the fuck needs two Rolexes?"

And with that, he left. Riley counted to ten and then used his body weight to pull at the loose post. It hadn't fit since the hard coming together after he'd seen Jenkins shot dead on the street. Free, he went immediately to the gun cabinet. Being armed in the house was his first priority, calling for help second. He reported the incident in hushed tones and replaced the handset as soon as he was convinced they understood the importance. Armed, he moved out to the front of the house, taking each corner like he'd seen in the movies with the gun held out in front of him. The house was devoid of life apart from himself. He wondered which way Elliot had left. There had been no sign of a car or any other vehicle he may have used to get to the D ranch house. Riley assumed he had used the old stock road to the rear of the barns—out of sight of the house.

Hayley was still in the car, her knees pulled up and her arms wrapped around them. She looked scared, forlorn, and Riley smiled and nodded at her. He indicated with a hand she should stay where she was, and she nodded her understanding. His beautiful brave daughter. He crossed to the car very slowly, still very aware of what was happening around them, and she unlocked the door when he reached her side.

"Daddy?"

"I'm okay, sweetheart. Stay here for the police and keep the door locked. Okay?"

"Where's Pappa?"

"I'm going to get him, baby. Lock the door." He pushed the door closed as quietly as he could but winced at the sound of metal on metal as it shut.

She did as he asked, locking the doors and staring out at him. After he blew her kiss, he made his way cautiously around the edge of the house to the back barns. He spotted what Jack had probably seen, tire marks in the snow away from the old barn, and he could imagine Jack going over to the vehicle wondering why the hell it was on his land. There was no vehicle there now, but he wasn't ready to accept Elliot had truly left. The first blood he saw was outside their barn. Their barn. God. Riley wanted to shout but couldn't chance that Elliot was still around with a new manic expression and his loaded gun. The snow was a mess of red and mud, and it looked like someone had been dragged inside the barn.

He walked in as quietly as he could and strained to hear any noise. Nothing. Then he spotted Jack, a crumpled heap on the blankets in the corner, and with a muffled cry, unmindful of who the hell else could be there, he dropped to his knees next to the figure of his prone husband. Blood. There was so much blood, and Riley struggled to turn him over. He checked for bullet wounds, but there was nothing apart from an impressive looking gash across Jack's head. That seemed to be the reason for all the blood.