Ever so slowly, Zeke pulls the weapon out of the waistband of his pants. He drags in a deep, steadying breath as he points the gun directly at me, hand trembling.
I shake my head, my gaze darting between his and Nick’s, and gasp out, “Don’t do this. Please don’t. You don’t have to. Please, Zeke.” His trigger finger twitches, and my eyes crash shut.
THIRTY-FOUR
KINGSTON
Archer comes flying downthe stairs, and charges toward me, frantic. “Video feed. He’s got her in the cellar,” he gasps out as he whips his phone out of his pocket and already has his head bowed and fingers moving fast as he blurts, “Texting Cannon.”
My eyes widen. “I fuckin’ told Zeke and Stuart to check the goddamn cellar.”What the hell is going on here?
“That’s just it, K. I think it’s Zeke. This guy in a mask and hoodie grabbed her and held a gun to her head to get her to keep quiet.” He pauses, exhaling heavily. “We’ve got to hurry.”
I bristle, all the muscles in my entire body tensing. “How do you know it’s him?”
“He’s masked and he’s got a motherfucking gun. But the voice. The guy in the video was definitely Zeke.”
With my hands tugging on my hair, I growl, “What the fuck. We can’t wait. You and me, Archer. Come on. Cannon will back us up if he gets back in time. Let’s go.”
With my heart hammering, I ease my way down the stairs into the basement, Archer at my heels, just as the unmistakable sound of gunfire greets our ears. We immediately halt, and the sound of my world crashing down on me echoes in my ears. My heart is at a dead stop in my chest.No!
“Oh, fuck.” Archer’s low, quiet voice is full of the same panic I feel.
“Shit. Help is on the way.” I don’t hear sirens yet, but they’ll be coming. “But we can’t wait, that’s for sure. I’ll assess the situation first. Follow my lead.”
Archer clutches my waist, his hand digging into my skin. “He’s got our girl, K.”
“I know.” I grip his bicep firmly in reassurance for a split second before we traverse the basement on quiet feet, creeping toward the cellar door, which I’d hardly thought to mention to Stuart and Zeke earlier. I’m fuckin’ surprised Zeke didn’t flinch or something when I mentioned it. But no. That fucker had been cool as a cucumber.
As we pass Stuart’s bedroom door, it opens, and the red-bearded asshole dashes out. “Oh my god, was that a gunshot?”
I nod, putting a finger to my lips to silence him right before my arm shoots out, and I wrap my hand around his throat, pinning him to the wall. I squeeze hard and hurriedly whisper, “Prove to me you’re worth the air you’re currently fighting for. Go upstairs and direct the cops down here when they arrive. Make sure there’s an ambulance on the way. Keep everyone else up there, too.”
His eyes wild, he gives me the barest of nods, and I let go. He stumbles forward, and I forcefully shove him in the right direction. He takes off at a jog up the stairs, never looking back. That fucking asshole decided to hole up in his room instead of helping with the search, leaving Zeke on his own. All signs point to Archer being correct as to who nabbed her. That fucking weasel stood there in the living room and let us count him present, too. Just my fuckin’ luck to send him directly where he wanted to be, with an asshole who couldn’t care less about Elliot.Goddammit!
Pivoting, I spot Cannon barreling toward us through the windows that face the pool deck. He must have gotten Archer’s text and come running. We put up our hands palms out to signal he needs to slow down. He stops dead in his tracks, then quietly slips in. It sickens me to do so, but I make a gun with my hand and mimic firing. His eyes widen and he heaves with each breath he drags in.
It’s hard not to panic, but I shake my head and gesture that they should remain calm and follow me. Slowly, I open the door to the cellar. It gives the barest creak when all the way open, and I hold my breath—because from here, I can plainly see someone’s legs as they pace back and forth at the far side of the dirty, dingy space, and… a body sprawled across the floor.Oh, shit.Taking great care to work my way down the stairs as noiselessly as I can, I strain to see what’s going on. It’s difficult in the dark room to see who else is down here. I don’t want to get caught unaware.
On a swift intake of air, it registers in my head that it’s not a female body on the floor. Relief swamps me, but I also know Elle’s not out of danger yet. Not by a long shot. That’s assuming she’s alive down here. Bile hits the back of my throat at the thought of never seeing Elliot’s smile again, but I push forward.
As more of the scene comes into view, it becomes clear that it’s Zeke doing the pacing, and in addition, he’s ranting, going straight out of his head. “Fuck! Wasn’t supposed to be like this. I shouldn’t fucking have to do his bidding.” He stops, flinging the hand holding a Glock toward Elliot, who is sitting in a chair, back-to-back with… fuck. Dane. Oh my god.
Elliot’s gaze lifts as the gun swings toward her face. In that moment, she spots us, and I make eye contact with her, but like the smart fucking girl she is, she wrenches her gaze away from us, instead staring at Zeke with fire in her eyes. “Please don’t point that at me.” She takes one deep, calming breath after another as she watches the haphazard swing of Zeke’s arm before her eyes slide to the floor. Mine follow.
It’s Nick. How the fuck?
“You saw, right? You get what he’s made me do.” Zeke’s frustration and anger spills from him in waves. He throws his arms up in the air before bringing his hands to the back of his neck, one of them still holding the gun. His entire body is shaking with frustration and rage. He stops to stare at Nick, then rears back and kicks hard, even though there’s a puddle of blood spreading on the floor, and the guy is most certainly dead. “Fucking dirty blackmailing asshole.” He’s practically panting now, and I’m really banking on Elliot keeping him talking so I can get close enough to jump him.
Elliot seems to understand and takes another deep breath, pinning her eyes on Zeke. “Did you hurt Will? Was it you?”
“Elliot, fuck,” comes Dane’s worried whisper from behind her.
Zeke, though, doesn’t seem bothered, he simply drops his head back, staring at the ceiling. “Did you know I won The Games last year? I didn’t have to do a final test. That’s what you win, by the way, if you have the most points.” He lifts both arms, but can only make air quotes with the unoccupied hand. “Win.” He laughs, and it’s the most deranged sound I’ve ever heard. “Nick was on my case, as usual, because Will wouldn’t just leave the brotherhood. That motherfucker lasted all the way through the final test, despite all the assholery that Joel, Alec, and Stuart put him through. For his test, they had him out in the woods—tied up, blindfolded, heavy metal music blasting in his ears.”
“They knew he couldn’t handle that kind of stuff.”
“Yeah. Had a hard fucking time with that old creepy house, for sure, so they went with something similar for the final test. I took a little walk into the woods after his sponsors had come inside for a beer.”
