68
WYATT
By the time I make my way back into the building, I’m seeing red.
How fucking dare he— Wes. I’m going to kill him.
Storming back into the room, I shout, “What the fuck is wrong with you?” I dive for him, but Sebastian grabs me around the middle, and I fight in his hold.
“Get off me, you fucker. Just because you can’t love her doesn’t mean you get to defend this bullshit,” I snarl.
I feel Sebastian stiffen, but his hold doesn’t relax. His next words freeze me— draining all of my fight.
“Owen’s been kidnapped.”
Lev walks in the door as Sebastian continues speaking, “Wes got a text message he needs to share.”
Looking, I see Wes still sitting on the floor, his hands running through his inky hair and pulling on the ends. Blood drips down the side of his mouth where I punched him— a bruise already forming.
Serves the fucker right.He should’ve come to us.
“Well, where the fuck is it?” I snap.
Sebastian hands Lev the phone, and Lev pushes some buttons, pulling the video up on the screen in Mr. Edgewood’s office.
My heart stops.
Owen's slumped form is tied to a chair. He’s been badly beaten. Parts of his face are mottled with dirt and blood, he’s been stripped down to his hunter-green boxer briefs, and the “A” Ariah carved into his chest looks like someone’s tried to slash through it.
My fists clench at my side, trying to keep my composure and not throw a chair at the screen while I wait to hear something.
As my patience begins to wane, the audio plays.
A distorted voice speaks, “You’ve played too long, and now times up. If you pick Ariah Bradford, Owen Jefferson is fucked.”
“Fuck,” Sebastian shouts before I hear a fist connect with plaster.
Who the hell is doing this? I thought we handled this with the death of Elise and Madeline. This was supposed to be finished. We were supposed to choose Ariah and be done.
I grit my teeth, trying to reign in the snarl that’s building in my chest.
The voice continues, “I’ve killed them all to get you. Only Samantha Davenport will do.”
“No! No fucking way,” Lev barks.
Those are my sentiments exactly.Fuck that rusty dusty cunt.
“To choose otherwise will ensure Owen Jefferson’s demise,” the voice cuts out and loops back to the beginning.
Lev cuts the video, then turns to meet our gazes.
Anguish— his eyes fall to the floor, and his shoulder slump.
“We-we have to get him back— h-h-he can’t go through this again. Not again. Not again,” Lev rambles. There’s so much pain in his tone that I close my eyes, trying to temper my own feelings.
I survey the room for the first time since storming back in and notice Brittany and the devil in question are missing.
“Where the fuck is the soulless skank on plastic legs?” I shout. “There’s no way this person mysteriously chose Samantha Davenport— that bitch is in on it.”
