Total pages in book: 266
Estimated words: 250787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1254(@200wpm)___ 1003(@250wpm)___ 836(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 250787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1254(@200wpm)___ 1003(@250wpm)___ 836(@300wpm)
He’s got his head down, staring at the empty pits recessed in the concrete floor while rubbing the back of his neck. Kashton has always been the most expressive out of the four of us. He can’t hide how he’s feeling. “What’s on your mind?” I ask. If he’s down here, he wants to talk about something.
“Saint just got a call,” he says, and my heart picks up, hoping it’s not what I think it’s about.
For almost four years, I’ve lived on pins and needles while Saint has continued to look for Ashtyn, and I’ve kept quiet. I made a friend a promise.
“And?” I question when he doesn’t elaborate.
“And they found a woman…she was restrained with barbwire, and her throat was slit.”
“What do they want us to do about it?” I ask.
His eyes meet mine, and he looks hopeful. “It reminded me of our meeting at the house of Lords back when…” He pauses. “Do you think it’s Adam?”
Senior year at Barrington
“Over five months last year, twenty girls went missing. Five of those were found raped and murdered,” the man tells us—me, Saint, Adam, and Kashton sit down in the basement at the house of Lords. Lincoln called us in for a meeting while we were at the party tonight. We had to wait for Saint to arrive because he had to take home a drunk Ashtyn—Adam’s twin sister.
“The other fifteen?” I ask, scanning the picture of a naked woman that he gave us. She’s covered in blood. Her head hangs off the side of a bed. Her throat was slit, her ankles tied with barbed wire, and her wrists bound behind her back with barbed wire. Whoever did this to her made her suffer. They must think a Lord did it. But we’re not the only sick bastards out there.
“Still missing,” the man answers my question.
Adam slams his folder down. “What does this have to do with us?”
“Did they attend Barrington?” Kashton questions before he can answer Adam.
“No.” He looks at Kashton. “All were still in high school—seniors—but none of the five were connected to one another. As far as we can tell, they didn’t know the Lords existed.”
“The ones who are still missing?” Saint questions.
He shakes his head. “Not that we have found.”
“I’m with Adam,” Lincoln adds, scanning the folder Adam put on the table. “What does this have to do with them?”
“Adam didn’t kill anyone.” I shake my head, answering his previous question. “Not an innocent woman anyway.” We’ve all got a body count. Just as many kills as we have fucks.
But someone tried to set our brother up, which resulted in his mother being killed and Ashtyn almost dead. Adam’s been gone ever since.
“Then why did he leave us?” His soft voice sounds like a little boy asking a mother why his father left. Four years have passed, and Kashton can’t seem to accept that our brother isn’t coming back.
“You’ll have to ask him that.” I shrug, knowing the truth, but it’s not my story to tell.
He sighs, and we hear the elevator ding, letting us know Saint is about to join us. He storms into the room a moment later. He looks pissed off as usual.
Things changed after Adam left. We took Ashtyn in to protect her, but it was beyond our control by that point.
“What else did they have to say?” Kashton asks Saint.
“They think Adam is in town,” he says through gritted teeth.
“He’s not—”
“I don’t believe he did it either, Haidyn, but you have to admit it looks bad.” Kashton interrupts me.
I run my hands through my hair, wanting to scream. I know where Adam is, and he’s nowhere fucking close to here at the moment. He’s in Las Vegas, where he belongs, but I can’t say that. “It’s never as it seems,” I argue.
Saint snorts. “Yeah, well, until he shows his fucking face, I’m going to assume he’s fucking us all over.”
EIGHT
ANNABELLE
Iimmediately left the café after my call from the Lord. I didn’t even tell my friends that I was going. Pulling into my driveway, I see a box on my front porch. I stop my SUV, get out, and pick it up. Taking it inside, I place it on my kitchen table and open it. It has a laptop, cell phone, Apple watch, and a wallet. Going through it, I find an ID with a new name and birthday on it, but my address is the same. What the fuck is that going to do for me? I feel like I’m going into the witness protection program.
Opening the laptop, I turn it on to see they’ve given me a new email address to go with my new identity, and I have one in my inbox. In the subject line is HAIDYN JAMISON REEVES.
Clicking on it, I read over the information listed in the email.