“Is everyone listening, Wesley?” Mr. Edgewood asks, and we all mumble in affirmation.
“Good. I’ll get straight to it. Trisha Stewart’s remains were just delivered outside the main gate, dismembered like Bethany. She’s missing her heart,” he explains, his tone cold and detached.
We all collectively swear. This means Ariah is probably about to receive another package. I’d hoped there’d be no more kidnappings or murders. One was unheard of, but two were unacceptable.
Mr. Edgewood’s next words are delivered with a masked calm, “Find whoever the fuck is doing this and end it.” He hangs up, not waiting for our response.
Owen is the first to speak, “Where’s Ariah right now?”
My frustration boils over. Are they both so enamored with her that they can’t see the cluster fuck barreling toward us? “That’s your first thought? Where’s Ariah?” I seethe. I need them to get their heads out of their asses and see the problem lying in front of us.
Lifting his molten gaze to my icy one, he doubles down, “Yes, you prick, where is she? If another body has turned up, it more than likely means something will happen to her. For someone who spends all day with patterns, you’re missing a giant one in front of you.” He stops to aim his next point at Wes and me. "Both of you dipshits are. Every time Ariah received a package, someone went missing. If a heart is missing from Trisha, I guaran-fucking-tee you Ariah either received, or will receive, another box.”
Pulling my hair from its bun, I run my fingers through it before throwing it back into another one. He’s right. It’s literally what I was just thinking about before they came in.
Huffing, I concede to his reasoning, “You’re right. I didn’t think that’s why you were asking.”
“You know what they say about assuming Lev,” Wyatt chirps in from the other side of the table.
Wes continues to remain silent in a contemplative state while these two tag team me.
“Except, you’re only making an ass out of yourself because there’s no way you’re making me look foolish. You’re on your own with that shit,” Owen adds.
Sucking my teeth, I roll my eyes, “I said you’re right. However, let’s not make it seem like you two don’t have a blind spot whereshe’sconcerned.”
“We could say the same about you two,” Wyatt chuckles.
A loud bang draws my attention to the no longer silent Wes, as his palms slap the top of the table.
“Will you all cut it the fuck out? Were we all listening to the same conversation? My dad is at his limit with us. Fuck where Ariah is. We need to focus on this organization, which seems to be invisible.” Shooting up from his seat, he asks, “Lev, what else have you found? Is there anything on that account yet?”
“Hey asshole, in case you weren’t listening. If we focus on Ariah, we’ll find the Filet Mignon or whatever the fuck they’re called,” Wyatt grits out, equally annoyed.
“No, she’s a symptom of the problem, not the problem itself,” Wes argues back.
“No, she’s the center of all of this! Trust me,” Owen erupts, banging his fists on the table to emphasize his feelings.
The tension level is at a fever pitch. We never fight this much. We’re not perfect by any means, but when it comes to Fraternitas business, we’re a unit. Ariah is ripping us apart by the seams.
“That’s e-fucking-nough! Look at us. The in-fighting and childish bickering aren’t going to get us anywhere,” I scream, exasperated. “You’re both right,” I say and start listing the reasons why on my fingers. “Shit, we’re all right. She’s at the center of all of this, she’s who they’re hyper-fixated on, and she’s how we find them. They were coming at us before she arrived, but we can’t argue that since she showed up that they haven’t escalated.”
“Lev’s right,” Wyatt says, rubbing his hands across the scruff of his jaw. His acquiescence surprises me. I expected him to be the last holdout. “We need to examine this from all angles. They’ve been five steps ahead of us this whole time. Making us chase our tails,” he adds as he takes his seat.
Wes sits back down, relaxing his shoulders, the vein no longer bulging in his forehead. “Fine, what do you all suggest?” he asks, not fully onboard but willing to see reason.
“Let’s make a list of potential accomplices. Who do we think could be working with this FB organization?” Owen suggests.
Finally, everyone gets their tempers under control, and we start making our list.
One I still think Ariah might be in on.
42
ARIAH
“Nope, we’re going out, and that’s final. I still can’t believe you tried to hide that it’s your birthday this weekend,” Shay chastises.
We were sitting on my bed when Jamie walked in and asked about our plans for my birthday before I could silence her.
