"You've seen my scars, Sev, but you weren't there. Neither of you were there. You don't know what can happen. You don't fucking know how he is—how hereallyis."
My stomach lurches, and I swallow back bile. It's all been coming back in such vivid clarity. I finally gave in and started drinking a fifth of whiskey every few hours to stay sane and settle my nerves enough to keep going.
But even that isn't going to be enough if she doesn't show up for this lesson. I can already sense it—that parasite inside of me that I've beensogood at keeping contained since it blew up all over Aurora that day in my studio.
It's there now, lingering beneath the surface of my skin, itching for release.
They don't say anything else to try to comfort me. They know they can't. Nothing is going to make me feel better other than seeing she's okay with my own eyes.
Even that might not do it. I need to touch her.Holdher. See her smile.
A shuddering breath leaves me as I haul myself back up to sitting, looking at the clock on the laptop. Three minutes.
"E, I know you don't want to hear this right now," Atticus says. "But as far as we know, her laptop still isn't working?—"
"Which is pretty fucking suspicious, isn't it?"
His jaw tightens.
"Yeah," Sev says, stretching out the word with a wince. "I think I'm with Eli on that one."
"Like I said," Atticus speaks as if he's repeating himself to a child instead of two grown men. "Itispossible Ambrose tampered with it, but that doesn't mean it was nefarious. He keeps the location of his private home a secret. He likely knows that if she uses that laptop, it's traceable. We aren't his only enemies, Eli."
Sev drags out a second chair and slams it down next to mine, falling into it as the last minute ticks down. At least I think he'll be on my side with what should come next. If my angel doesn't show, we're not sitting here another minute. We're going after her.
Atty said there were ten most likely suspects to be Ambrose's property. We can run through all ten in a night and have him dead and her back with us before dawn.
"If she doesn't show," Atticus adds. "I'm sure she'll text Céline or email Alfie to explain, and that email will come to me."
I grind my teeth and speak through them. "It's not good enough, Atty."
He finally sits in the chair to my right, and the three of us watch the screen, waiting for it to tell us she's ready to be let into the online video lesson.
Please.
Please, Angel.
The time ticks over to exactly 10:30, and I stop breathing. Her name still hasn't appeared on the screen. "Where is she?"
Atticus leans forward, brows drawn. "It's been three seconds, E. Give her a minute."
Sev has started flicking his hooked blade in circles next to his thigh. "She'll be here."
We wait.
And we fucking wait.
10:31.
10:32.
"Atty…"
If my leg bounces any harder, I'm liable to put a fucking hole in the floor.
Why isn't he saying anything?
Atty steeples his fingers in front of his lips, and for once, I see what he's been trying to hide from us. There's bleak terror in his abject stare, and he's pale. Has he always been that pale?
