I move to swipe my hand under my nose from a tickle–most likely blood—but my wrists are bound behind my back. I huff and drop my head against the cushions to look at the ceiling. “Someone untie me.”
Hawk guffaws. “For you to lose your shit again?”
I narrow my eyes. “I’m not going to.”
“What the hell happened, Jax?” Ryder asks.
Rage fills me at the reminder of what set me off.
“Jesus, not again,” Aiden whines. “I don’t have it in me to get my ass kicked for a second time.”
I rein back the anger, which takes more energy than I can spare. When I don’t feel like I’m about to black out, I say through clenched teeth, “Kyle and the others touched Dahlia.”
Ryder snaps his head toward me with a knowing and concerned expression. I give him a warning look, urging him to keep his mouth shut. He hasn’t said it aloud, and when I confronted him a few days ago, he couldn’t say it then, either.
Hawk blows out smoke and leans forward. He rests his elbows on his bent knees while he pins me with a glare. “What do you mean,touched her?”
I’m not saying any more than that. I love my friends, but I don’t want them to know there are photos floatingaround on the internet. Curiosity will kill the cat, and if I find out they searched for her photos, I won’t hold back on them like I did earlier.
Aiden swallows loudly, and Hawk looks seconds away from taking revenge himself.
“Fuck,” Ryder whispers with a shake of his head. He looks at the ceiling like it holds all the answers to the questions in his mind.
Aiden bounces his knee, a nervous habit he picked up in middle school and hasn’t stopped since.
“Untie me.” I shift in my seat, searching for a way to escape the bindings.
Ryder drops the bloody napkin onto the arm of the sofa, helps me to my feet, and turns me so I’m facing away from him. Using his knife, he cuts the ropes.
“Has anyone found Mickey?” I ask. The rope falls away from my wrists, and I drop my arms to my sides.
Hawk huffs a sarcastic laugh. “The fucker is in hiding. I haven’t found him.”
My lips flatten. “What about Connor O’Hann?”
All three of my friends swing their gazes toward me, each one having a similar expression of shock that morphs into rage.
“He’s in college, living on campus. Do you want us to get him while we look for Mickey?”
I nod. “If we can’t bring them here to us, we’ll find them during the Reckoning and end them.”
The room goes quiet, full of solemn agreement. We all direct our gazes toward the bathroom at the same time, where Kyle is currently locked inside.
“We can have fun until then, yeah?” Hawk asks as he puts out his cigarette.
“Yeah,” we all say in unison.
“Then let’s get dear old Kyle out to join the party,” Aidensays. He jumps out of his seat, his steps containing more of a pep now that he understands why I lost my shit.
I search the room for something to use on Kyle, then notice my discarded helmet. I don’t remember throwing it off.
That’ll do.
Iroll over in my bed, keeping my eyes shut. I want to catch a few more hours of sleep, but the more I wake up, the harder it is to slip back into the one pleasant dream I had. Light filters through my windows and brightens the darkness behind my eyelids. I sigh and sit up, swaying as sleep clings to me while simultaneously refusing to let me drift off.
Movement catches my attention, and I slap my hand over my mouth to muffle a scream. I scramble back into the headboard, eyes wide and my heart slamming against my chest.
A demon stands at the foot of my bed, skin mottled with shades between gray and brown. There’s nothing in its sunken eyes, and its jaw hangs low, as if someone has ripped it out of its socket.
