Ezra exhales hard, pinching the bridge of his nose. “He’s missing. Or hiding. I don’t know which. But if you see him, tell him I’m looking for him.” His gaze flicks up, pinning me in place. “And you—you need to find Greyson. Now more than ever.”
I nod.
It’s not like I have a choice in the matter; Ezra wasn’t giving me a suggestion. He’s giving me orders to follow, ones that I need to obey no matter what the cost.
“You’re fighting tonight… Lose,” he demands as he places his shades over the bridge of his nose. “We need to find out who’s the fucking mole.” Ezra lays out his trap, making me the bait in the situation.
And with that, I watch him turn away and head towards the building he loves to frequent, the one that hides the pretty nurse he likes to fuck from time to time. All while I remain rooted in place, my mind drifting to Thiago, and wondering if I should reach out, be there for him… the same way he was there for me.
But I shake off the thought, staying in my place. I shove my hands into my pockets and proceed to walk towards my first class. When my phone buzzes, a shiver runs through me, dread already wrapping her hand around my throat. Students around me stop, faces falling to their screens, and I follow right along.
Chapter Twenty- One
Thiago
Iroll my head between my shoulders, trying to ease the tension. Nothing works; the headache throbs behind my eyes, making it impossible to enjoy the light, let alone the sun that has decided to come out and play today. I haven’t gotten any sleep, and at the rate this is going, it looks like I won’t be anytime soon. There’s a weird sensation that eats at me, the fact that my father is currently fighting for his life, and I’m out here trying to keep his secrets from spilling. Protecting someone who abused so many others.
Before I head back to the hospital for a visit, I walk towards the tech building. There’s two things I need from Ted, one to hack into the security cameras outside, and two to find out what's in this drive. As always, I let myself inside the cramped space. The smell of burnt coffee and corn chips fills my nostrils. The fluorescent lights hum quietly, mingling with his aggressive clicking and typing. I drop the USB on his desk, a small black coffin of secrets.
“Play it,” I say before I have a chance to stop myself.
Ted hesitates, giving me a dumb founded look. “You know you don’t need me to use a USB.”
I let out a long exhale. “I know that. It’s been a long night, just play the god damn thing.”
Ted shrugs before grabbing the USB between his grubby fingers and plugging it in. The monitor flickers, and I walk around him—taking a spot behind him so I can see. Static crawls across the screen like tiny insects, and my phone buzzes. But I ignore it, and focus on the area that comes into view—a warehouse I've visited too many times to count. The same one that holds up a girl with long black hair. Naked and bound by ropes, blood running down her legs. She’s gagged and blindfolded.
Behind her…. Ezra.
My stomach churns, and the headache behind my eyes spikes until it feels like someone is driving nails through bones. Ezra’s face is half-lit by the warehouse lamp, his expression unreadable as he thrusts into her. She screams, begging him to stop, but the masked donors encourage his movements, urging him to hurt her more, to make her sing for her family.
And he does.
I step back, hitting the edge of a shelf. My vision tunnels, blurring everything around me, the image freezing for a second before looping.
“Jesus Christ,” Ted whispers, trying desperately to stop the video, but my hand darts out to stop him. I don’t say a word; my throat is too dry to speak, no matter how hard I swallow. My pulse hammers, blood rushing to my ears. It’s not like this is new to us, but it’s the woman he brutalizes that makes me take a seat. Michaeala’s muffled cries echo through the speakers, and I can’t tell if the sound is real or a figment of my imagination. My phone buzzes again, and this time I look down at the screen. Lucia’s name and contact picture fill the screen. Once again, I ignore it.
Biting down on the fleshy part of my cheeks, I watch Ted skip hours of the brutal assault, all orchestrated by the devil himself, Peter, who proudly pats Ezra on his shoulder as he removes the gag from her mouth. She screams for Wyatt before Peter silences her with his cock.
“Thiago, what the hell is this?” Ted asks, his voice shaking with fear. I swallow hard, not knowing what to say. He knows too much, and if he asks too many questions, it will land him six feet underground.
“Proof,” I say flatly, taking in a deep breath that steadies my labored breathing. “Or punishment. I don’t know anymore.”
The screen flickers again—new footage loading. My father’s voice cuts through the static, calm and commanding, before June’s face appears. Red and puffy, begging him to stop. I feel something snap inside me, making me rush towards the small trash can in the room and empty the rising bile into it.
“Fuck, this is some sick shit,” Ted mutters under his breath, looking over at me as if requesting permission to stop. “It’s hours of this…” he adds, his voice trembling, but I barely hear him. The sound of June’s sobs still echoes in my skull, a ghost that won’t shut up. Disgust and anger create a cocktail inside me that has me falling to my ass with the trash can between my legs.
I’m sure I look as pathetic as I feel. Ted reaches for the keyboard again, muttering something about stopping the playback. I catch his wrist before he can touch it, spilling the trash onto the ground.
“Don’t,” I snarl, my voice coming out low and too calm for the storm raging inside me. The kind of calm that makes people afraid, and he’s no different.
Ted freezes. “Thiago, this—this isn’t something we can keep. If anyone finds out—”
“They won’t.” I lean closer until he can smell the vomit and whiskey that cling to my breath. “You’ll wipe all the logs, thecache, everything. You’ll forget what you saw, right after you find out who the fuck made this.”
He swallows hard. “And if I don’t?”
I smile, but it doesn’t reach my eyes. “Then I’ll make sure you make it into a coffin.” The words hang between us, heavy and cold. I didn’t like threatening him, believe it or not. I like Teddy—that’s my guy. But I couldn’t have him blabbering to anyone about what he just saw. Ted nods, his fingers shaking as he starts to work on my demand. I watch him work for a while before my phone buzzes. Once again, I ignore Lucia’s call and focus on every key stroke, watching the last window close, before plucking the USB and slipping it back into my pocket.
