Trey shoved his father into the bed. He spoke in that same calm voice, and his words sent chills down my spine. “You’re pathetic. And you know nothing about me or what I want. As you walk out of here today, I want you to remember that you have no power over me or anyone else at Miskatonic Prep any longer. We don’t care if you know we’ve found a way to get past the boundary. You’re not safe anywhere. The only reason I’m not twisting your head off your bodywith my bare handsis because you will deliver a message to all the parents. We’re coming for you, for everything you’ve built off the backs of your greed and our torture. We’re going to tear down every last pillar of the empire you’ve built. It’s already started. The only way to stop it is to come to our graduation. Ayaz, you got a flyer?”
“Sure.” Ayaz pulled a folded poster from his back pocket.
Trey slapped it across Vincent’s face. “See you there,Father. Dress to impress.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Trey yanked Vincent off the bed and shoved him toward the door, planting his foot in his father’s ass and kicking him so hard Vincent crashed into the wall. Blood gushed from a wound above his eye. His ruined skin couldn’t take the abuse.
“Ayaz, help me.”
Ayaz reached for him. Vincent held out his hand, thinking Ayaz was helping him, but instead, Ayaz kicked him in the side. Again and again and again, his jaw set in silent rage and his dark eyes blazing with every evil thing Vincent had made him do.
Vincent rolled over and dragged himself through the doorframe. He staggered to his feet and flailed across the room. When he reached the entrance, he clung to the frame and turned, his face twisted into an ugly scowl.
“I raised you out of the gutter, you ungrateful rag-head,” he roared at Ayaz.
“May Allah bless your family and wealth,” Ayaz replied.
Quinn burst into hysterical laughter. Vincent stumbled out the door. A moment later, the roar of his Porsche speeding away drew me back to reality. We stood in the middle of a crime scene, and if we were caught, it could be a disaster.
The second gunman was only unconscious. But Damon Delacorte was dead as a doornail, his blood and brains splattered across the wall like a grisly Rorschach drawing. Loretta’s arrow still stuck out of his eye. Our fingerprints would be all over the room.
This could ruin everything. I can’t raise the third pillar from a jail cell.
“Quinn, wait in the car,” I barked. Trey and I untied Deborah, and I slid the gag out of her mouth.
“Hazel, I’m so glad you’re okay. Is everyone safe? No one’s hurt?” Her skin was pale and her hands trembling as I quickly checked her over, but they didn’t appear to have done anything worse to her.
Everyone is fine except poor Roger.“We’re okay. I’m so sorry they came after you. If I’d known we put you in danger, I never would have—”
“Nonsense.” She wiped her eyes. “I went into this with my eyes wide open. You’re not the bad guy here.”
Don’t be so sure about that.“Ayaz, help Deborah into the kitchen. We need to strip the bed.”
Ayaz put his arms around Deborah and took her outside. Trey moved to the other side of the bed and helped me strip the sheets. We spread them on the floor and rolled Damon’s body on top, then used a spare set in the cupboard to do the same for the unconscious gunman.
I gathered the corners of the sheets around Damon Delacorte’s body, knotting them together into handles that would make him easier to carry. Wordlessly, Quinn stepped into the room, his back rigid as he took up two of the corners.
“I told you to wait in the car.”
Quinn didn’t speak. He also didn’t drop the sheet.
“Quinn.”I set down my end and glared at him. His eyes were a million miles away. “You know we have to hide the body. If the police find out he’s dead, it’s going to ruin everything. They’ll march up to the school and haul all the students all away before we can get your lives back. Wehaveto do this, but you don’t have to be there.”
He shook his head.
Trey stepped between us, placing a hand on each of Quinn’s shoulders. Their eyes blazed at each other, a dance of will and defiance that had fueled their friendship for so many years. Quinn’s shoulders sagged. Trey turned to me.
“He stays. He needs to be a part of this.”
I wanted to argue, but we didn’t have time. Quinn and I took his dad’s sheet, dragging it out into the living area. Trey followed with the unconscious guy and the bag containing the sigil slung over his shoulder. We needed to get him as far away as we could from the crime scene.
Greg sat on the sofa, his head in his hands. Loretta’s arms wrapped around his shoulders. He looked up when we entered, and a shudder rocked his body as he saw the bloodied sheet.
“I killed him.” Greg curled into the fetal position, as if that would make the horror and guilt go away.
Fuck, I was supposed to protect him from this.I wanted to throttle Greg for following us with that bloody bow, and Loretta for letting him do it, knowing what she knew about carrying murder on her conscience. But he saved my life. So I kept my mouth shut.
