“It’s strange though. The IP address linked, it hasn’t moved; whoever was watching them was in the building at the time. Boys, you might want to get out of there. Police located in the reception area. They move pretty fast for pudgy fuckers; I’d say you’ve got ten minutes before they’ve searched the first two floors. I’ve got the transcript of the emergency call, and they didn’t state a room number, so they are coming in blind.”
Ever the voice of reverse karmic retribution, Cara adds, “Looks like the universe is on your side today, boys.” I don’t know what it is about the women in our life, but they sure seem fine with the messier sides of our relationships.
“If I find anything, I’ll send it over.” With that, Ezracuts off the call, and that metallic tang of blood hangs heavy in the silence growing between us.
“We need to wait out the police and search the building.”
“And how, oh wise one, do you suggest we do that looking like extras in a slasher flick? People will have questions if we head out there like this,” I respond, tugging at the material that is now sticky against my chest.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
COOPER
Pulling open the door, Caleb ducks his head out to check the coast is clear. He tugs me out into the hallway by my collar and lifts his soaked shirt up over his head, pulling open the heavy-duty grate on the wall and discarding it down the laundry chute. Then he claps his hands together like he’s just invented the fucking wheel.
“Okay, that’s better I guess; the half-naked man won’t raise any questions.” The lashing of sarcasm is clear in my tone. It only takes one side-eye look from my brother, and I drop the smart arse remarks and follow suit. Just as we’re about to check the buildings cameras to see the best way to escape, a guy comes stumbling out of the stairwell. He passes us, shooting us with a thumbs up as he orders a pizza on his phone.
I don’t know what ‘flefroni’ is, but he seems adamant he wants it as spicy as it comes.
He reels off the address, cutting off the call andfumbles with his keys in the lock to the room next door to Ebony’s, humming along out of tune to a Kelly Clarkson song as he pushes his way inside and kicks the door closed behind him.
“Now can we leave?” I press, getting antsy as I watch the police in real-time clear the second floor on my phone. My brother holds up his finger to silence me and crosses the hallway, knocking on the drunk guy’s door.
“Seventeen and nine—that’s one fast pizza,” we hear him slur through the door.
“The man can’t tell time anymore; push inside the second he opens up.”
We can hear him fumbling with the locks as I watch the police climb the stairwell. My lip nearly in tatters with how I’m working it between my teeth. The disappointment on the hungry drunk guy’s face is evident as we push our way inside and kick it closed behind us. The guy falls back on the sofa, struggling to get up like an overturned turtle, and it would be comical if it wasn’t so sad.
“Hey fucks,” he snaps angrily, louder than we need right now with the entire Hells Haven Police force swarming the hallway.
Yeah, that’s enough of that.
Caleb seems to have read my mind as he punches the guy square in the face and knocks him out cold. A necessary evil in the grand scheme of things.
I thumb through the post on the side table as Caleb shoots off a message to Jose about keeping us updated on the tracker in Ebony’s phone if it comes back online. Making his way over to the sink, he sticks his head under it and washes away what remains of the blood on his torsoas a knock at the door echoes through the room. Caleb kicks off his boots and socks and shuffles his way out of the jeans so fast you’d think he was on a promise to get laid. If we’re lying to save our arse, we need to be all in. Standing here stark bollock naked Caleb grabs for a towel slung over the dining chair pilled high with football gear, securing it around his waist to cover his modesty.
“Thought you were on a promise with our girl and wanted easy access huh? Or did you just decide little Cal needed an air out?”
“Shut it!” he snaps with a sterndon’t-fuck-with-meexpression on his face. He’s worried for Ebs but he’s hiding it well.
“Showtime,” I say chipperly, throwing a letter his way as he grabs for another smaller towel to sling over his shoulder and hide some of the prison looking tattoos on his chest.
“Percy Jackson. Are you having a laugh?” he whispers as he reads the name on the phone bill.
I don’t say anything as another more impatient knock sounds out. I gesture to the door and hide in the coat cupboard opposite.
Swinging the door open, I see Caleb’s shoulders relax, which lets me know he doesn’t recognise the cop.
“Sorry, Officer, I was just in the shower,” he says it with a smile as he rubs the towel over his hair.
“Identify yourself,” the portly guy demands as he wipes sweat from his pale face. Clearly, he hasn’t enjoyed this little excursion; sucks when you’re built for a desk job.
“Percy Jackson,” Caleb states, and for a second the cop looks suspicious.
I’ve never been arrested thanks to a fictional character before—I guess there’s a first time for everything.
Before the cop can interrogate my brother on the validity of his stolen identity, hollering sounds out as an officer kicks down the door to Megan and Ebony’s apartment.
