My eyes flick to the bag, wondering again at its contents, and I wave the other two over. Elliot and I scoot to the head of the bed, while Archer and Kingston get settled across from us. Archer tosses the offending pouch into the middle, where all four pairs of our eyes lock on it. “I found this in your bathroom. I didn’t know what it was. Thought I found where you were keeping—” He hesitates, clearing his throat.
I blow out a hard breath and reach for Elliot’s hand. She grabs onto me like a lifeline, her small hand squeezing mine tightly before she answers. “Razor blades. It’s okay for you to say it. Like the case of them Nick stole from my bathroom at home and had waiting for me at that disgusting excuse for a motel.”
Kingston flinches hard, a chink showing in his usually strong armor. He’s vulnerable in situations like this—the ones that dig into all his old wounds. I fuckin’ hate that for him. But—I eye him carefully—he’s at least not completely freaking the fuck out. And I think he’s maintaining control for Elliot’s sake.
“So, I knew it wasn’t what I was thinking when I pulled it out, but then I wasn’t quite sure what I should do with it. Do you know what that is, Elliot?” Archer gestures at the pouch and bites down on his lip while waiting for her response.
The tension that’s filled this room is positively agonizing, the air seemingly saturated with it. Stifling.
Her gaze slides from me over to Kingston and Archer. Slowly, she nods.
Kingston’s lips press together, taking the reins for a moment. “Archer tells us it’s some special bag that blocks cell signals and shit.” He pauses. “And from the feel of it, we assume it’s a phone in the bag.”
Elliot’s hand clamps down hard on mine, panic highlighting every one of her features. “Did you open it?”
“No.” Archer cocks his head to the side, reclining on his elbows and stretching his legs out in front of him. “Because I know better.”
She inhales carefully, then lets it all go in a steady stream of air. Her dark eyes connect with Archer’s gray ones. It’s like watching a brainiac competition. Kinda fascinating, honestly.
“But I could”—Archer shrugs—“open it, that is. Maybe it’s nothing.” He picks the bag back up and begins to fiddle with the Velcro flap.
With wide eyes, Elliot shakes her head and lunges forward to her knees, letting go of my hand to reach for the bag. “Wait.” She heaves out a breath.“Don’t.”
Archer’s brows shoot up on his forehead, and he stalls his motion. I think he must be waiting for her to explain herself—not that I think he was actually going to do it. I’d wager he wanted to see what she’d do.
Gotta say, I’m intrigued by her reaction. The day Archer came to us with the Faraday bag, I soaked in every detail of what he’d said about it. And from that, I gather either Elliot knows that the phone in there is on or at the very least charged—like Archer explained—because if it’s off or we’re unable to turn it on because of a dead battery, it doesn’t fucking matter… unless there’s another reason. But shit, why else wouldn’t she want us to get it out?
“Peaches, is the phone on?” Archer’s gaze on her narrows. “Is it yours?”
She wets her lips. “No and no.”
Kingston rubs his hands over his face. “Have you opened the bag, Elle?”
She sucks in a breath, her eyes connecting and holding his gaze. It’s like she’s searching for something in them that will tell her she can open up. That she’ssafewith us. She mentioned being worried over what his reaction would be, but I don’t have a fucking clue why. “I did. Before I understood what it was.”
Archer jerks. “So if it’s been opened and nothing hap—”
“It’s dead. That’s not the problem.” In my peripheral vision, I watch her face flush with color as her tongue slips out to wet her lips. She drags in a few deep breaths, and I can practically see her brain working in there, sifting through and discarding options. “Fingerprints. I already accidentally added mine.” Her eyes crash shut. “It’s—” And before she can finish the sentence, her face crumples while she wrings her hands in front of her.
“Elle, baby, what the fuck,” Kingston breathes out, and I can tell he’s not so much questioning her as he is the entire situation.
Because what the actual fuck do fingerprints have anything to do with it?
“Oh my fucking god.” Archer’s eyes have gone as round as saucers. “Peaches, tell me this doesn’t belong to who I think it does.”
I turn my head to get a better look at her and find her lip trembling as she nods, choking out words I hadn’t expected in a million years. “It’s Will’s.”
There is shocked silence in the room for a count of five nerve-racking heartbeats.
Kingston’s head rears back. “What do you mean ‘it’s Will’s’? Will, the initiate who disappeared? Where did you find it?”
Elliot is so distraught I don’t know if she recognizes tears are slipping unchecked down her cheeks. Her brow furrows, confusion marring her beautiful features. “What do you mean where did I find it? It was inyournightstand.”
SEVENTEEN
ELLIOT
My skin prickleswith unease and my stomach is a violently lurching sea of confusion, edged with a bit of fear.Oh god, I don’t understand what’s happening.How do they not know where I found the phone? My heart begins to pound, thumping relentlessly behind my rib cage.
