Empty.
“Where the fuck did you go?” I asked the empty room before pulling out my prepaid phone. I tried Jorie over and over, but she never picked up.
“Baby, call me. Please. Where the hell did you go?” I said to her voice mail after the seventh call.
I dropped onto the sofa for a second and jammed my hands into my hair.
“Where would they go? Where the fuck would they go?” My stomach twisted because I had no fucking answers.
All the thoughts I’d had yesterday about life never being the same again? I was terrified that I was right, but in a totally different way than I’d anticipated.
We should have been long gone by now.
Moses might not know about the truck yet because of the storm—
My thoughts were cut short by someone screaming outside.
“Holy shit! This motherfucker is bleeding out!” one of the guys in Lonestar’s crew yelled loud enough for everyone on the entire fucking block to hear.
I bolted off the couch and ran to the door. I didn’t know why, but something in my gut told me to move my ass.
They have to be okay. They have to be okay.They shouldn’t have left. Why did they leave?Fuck. We should have been out of here already. This never should have happened.
I charged down the stairs, dodging the shit strewn everywhere from the storm, and stumbled when I hit the mud-covered pavement at street level. I whipped my head from side to side, looking for Bump and Jorie.
But there was no Jorie. Just Bump, covered in blood and sprawled out in the nasty pond that used to be a dirt-packed lawn.
I skidded to a stop in front of Lonestar and his crew, hitting my knees beside the only little brother I’d ever known.
“Bump! What the fuck happened?”
When he turned his head to look up at me, the life was draining out of his eyes. “Jorie ...”
“Where is she?”
He only got one word out before he lost consciousness.
“Dead.”
Two
Scarlett
Present day
My heart stutters and my lungs freeze as I stare at the towering man sitting behind Gabriel’s desk,with a gun to Bump’s head.
Gabriel’s hand tightens around mine until I can’t feel my fingers.
Oh God, no. He can’t hurt Bump. No one can hurt Bump.
“I said, get on your motherfucking knees,Gabe. Make me repeat myself again, and you’ll have a hell of a cleaning bill.” He nudges the barrel harder against Bump’s head, causing him to screw his eyes shut and flinch.
Beside me, Gabriel squeezes even tighter before he releases me ... and then he does what the man says and gets on his knees.
“No,” I whisper, but it comes out louder than I intend, and the man’s attention cuts to me.
His eyes alone are enough to unsettle me—the pale greenish gold seems to glow as if backlit with pure evil. Set against the tawny bronze tone of his skin, his gaze seems even more disturbing.