My vision blurs, and my entire body turns into one erratic heartbeat as panic and rage flood me at once.
This can’t be happening. Not now, not when everything depends on me fixing things with Gage—when I want Gage more than I want my next breath. It’s felt horrible to push him away the entire time I’ve been here. Sending him into the friend zone was about as natural as breathing underwater.
“Where are they?” The words come out strangled, barely audible over the party noise.
Both Em and Kate clam up, their expressions shifting to something that looks almost like fear as they take in my feral appearance.
“WHERE ARE THEY?” I roar, loud enough that several nearby conversations stop mid-sentence, and my voice cracks with desperation.
Kate takes a step back as if I might jump to the juicy part and decapitate her right here and now—on purpose. “Okay,geez, relax. They went upstairs.”
“Upstairs.” The word comes out lower than a whisper as the full scope of my new nightmare settles in.
Upstairs in a palatial estate like this means about fifty-two different possibilities, give or take a room, and however many wings Ellis’ family is holding hostage. Bedrooms, bathrooms, walk-in closets the size of most people’s apartments—any one of which could be hosting the destruction of my future.
I turn and sprint toward the marble staircase, my heels clicking against the stone like a countdown timer as my heart hammers its way into my throat. The upstairs hallway stretches out before me like a nightmare straight from the Tenebrous Woods, doors lining both sides all the way down until they disappear into shadows.
Time to go on a seek-and-destroy mission—heavy on the destroy. And that decapitation is still firmly on the table. Although this time, the lucky recipient just might be Chloe Bishop.
I start with the first door on the left, pushing it open without bothering to knock. A couple I vaguely recognize from chemistry spring apart from where they’ve been engaged in what can only be described as horizontal gymnastics, the girl clutching a sheet to her chest while the guy scrambles for his pants.
“Sorry!” I slam the door shut and move to the next one, my pulse racing faster with each second that passes.
Door number two reveals a different couple, this one in the process of recreating what appears to be a scene from a very inappropriate nature documentary. I close that door even faster, and my hands are shaking now.
That’s two for two. It’s clear the people in these rooms aren’t locked in a riveting game of Jenga—although there is plenty of stacking and unstacking going on.
Door number three exposes a girl from the volleyball team making out with one of the football players with an enthusiasm that suggests they’ve been waiting for this opportunity all semester. Good for them, but not what I’m looking for.
My breathing grows ragged as I reach for each new doorknob.
What if I’m too late?
What if Chloe has already?—
Door number four—empty, thank goodness. I’ve never been more thrilled to see an overpriced, unused mattress in all my life.
Behind door number five, I find a guy I don’t recognize doing something with his phone that I really don’t want to think about too hard.
This is like the world’s most traumatizing version of hide-and-seek, and by the looks of it, I’m losing.
Door number six reveals another couple engaged in activities that would make their parents call for the Harrisons’ arrest.
Door number seven—jackpot.
“Oh.” A small moan comes from me as an instant rage slaps my entire body, and all I see is an impending murder about to take place.
Gage sits on the edge of a massive four-poster bed with Chloe on top, covering him like a blanket. Her hands are tangled in his hair as she kisses him with the kind of aggressive passion that looks more like a territorial claim than anything romantic. She reaches down and begins to peel off her top, the fabric bunching around her shoulders as she pushes him back toward the mattress.
My heart stops beating. Not a breath enters my lungs. Rage floods my system so completely that for a moment I can’t see anything except the image burned into my retinas. Chloe Bishop, in all her manipulative glory, is seducing my future husband right out from under me.
I quickly scan the room for a weapon and land on a crystal vase sitting on the dresser next to me. It’s expensive looking, heavy enough to do some serious cranial damage, and positioned perfectly for me to grab. Before I can talk myself out of it, I snatch the vase and take a step forward, my arm already drawing back to bring it crashing down on Chloe’s thick skull. I’ve only got one thing on my mind, and that’s murder.
But just as I’m about to commit what would definitely qualify as assault with a deadly weapon, someone grabs the vase from behind, with enough force to stop me mid-swing.
“Don’t you dare stoop to her level.”
The voice is familiar, and warm, and completely unexpected. I whirl around, my heart thumping wildly as I take in the face of the person who dared to rescue Chloe, and I gasp at the sight.
