I move down the stairs. The office is the last place I need to check, but I have to find the file on Maria and Sofia. Around me, the others grab whatever they can carry, and someone even laughs as they wave Carmen’s red bra in the air.
I roll my eyes.
I can hear the sirens rising in the distance. But that doesn’t slow me down.
I reach the desk and rake through the drawers. But there is nothing I need. My eyes lift to the shelves, and I see a red book with the year2014stamped on its spine. I remember Dad always wrote dates in that book.
So I grab it and turn.
“Let’s go,” someone shouts.
I sprint after them, cutting right toward the driveway where the bikes are parked. I shove the book and the mask into my backpack, swing it over my shoulders, and run for my bike.
It’s time to disappear.
I slide the helmet on, the bandana still covering my face. The engine turns on as I twist the throttle. The back tire spins, smoke curling up behind me as I launch forward. The others shortly follow after me.
We are not driving in the same direction.
I lean into the right curve, feel the bike settle under me, then straighten out as the road stretches ahead.
I have to go to Ella’s place. I know the address. We have hooked up there more than once. I know it’s close. Ten minutes, maybe less.
I glance over my shoulder, once, then twice, making sure no one follows.
I tilt the bike and cut left, the road pulling me straight toward her house.
The music hits before I even see the house. The place is smaller than the Harrington mansion, but it’s packed. I roll into the driveway and park beside a pink Yamaha.
Still holding the bike between my legs, I swing my backpack around. I pull out the LED purge mask. The bandana drops to my neck, hiding the tattoo, and I slide the mask on. I turn the LED light on, and I tug my hood up over my head.
I take the key out of the bike and move toward the house.
As soon as I get close, I can feel the beat and neon lights that wash over the crowd. Everyone wears masks, and at least ten people pass me wearing the same mask I am.
I roll my eyes beneath it.
So much for blending in.
Then I see her.
She is dancing with a brunette.
Fuck. Me.
It’s Ella.
What the hell?! Are they best friends now? Is this a conspiracy to hunt down Judas Harrington and chop my dick off? Feels like a hate club already.
I push further inside.
I slide between them, my back to Ella, and my eyes locked on Carmen.
“Piss off, weirdo,” Carmen shoves me.
I catch her wrist and pull her close.
“Leave me the fuck alone,” she snaps, slamming her palm into my chest. I stumble back and bump into Ella.
