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I blinked, staring down at the phone.
It said she was just a few blocks away, so I did what I could: I ran. I ran as fast as I could, stopping only when I came upon the blinking red dot on my phone screen. Her phone sat on the curb, having been thrown from the window.
“Fuck,” I muttered, bending to pick it up. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Standing slowly, I grasped her phone, wishing I could make it morph into her. What the hell was Ash thinking? She knew this was the only way I’d be able to find her…that man, Ray, wouldn’t have known, which meant it was Ash who threw it out, not him.
Willingly, the word rang in my head as I walked back to the frat house. Ash had gone with him willingly. On my walk back, I Googled the Midtown Strangler and learned quite a lot about him, and about my Ash.
Ash had been hiding so, so much.
He was the reason she’d been acting strange lately. He was the reason she was trying to close herself off. Ray fucking Ruiz was the man to kill, apparently.
I made it to the frat house and pushed into the party, both phones safely in my pocket. Ash might not be strong enough, but that was okay. I’d be plenty strong for the both of us. I would be her strength when she had none, prop her up when she couldn’t stand on her own. I would do anything and everything for that girl, including wrangling her friend and getting her home safe before turning my focus on finding where Ash went.
Besides, Markus needed some time to work.
The crowd dancing didn’t hold her friend, neither did the crowd around the food in the kitchen nor the coolers outside. Around the bonfire, I spotted a group of four, but that’s it. Not her dark-haired friend.
I passed someone reaching for the basement door, but stopped them by grabbing their shoulders and showing them to the kitchen and the food that was still left. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” I advised, squeezing his shoulders. He was dressed up as some plumber with overalls and a red hat. I forget what character that was, but I knew he wasn’t the kind of person who’d enjoy walking in on the scene downstairs. “Two of my friends are down there, and they need their privacy. Wait for them to come up, okay?” I slapped his thin back, practically knocking him over.
He took one look at my tattoos, gulped, and nodded along like a good little boy.
Returning to my search, I peered up the stairs, knowing she had to be up there if she wasn’t down here. I heaved a breath, wondering what the hell I was going to say to her, how I was going to explain the fact that Ash was gone and she had to come with me. She didn’t know me. She’d never met me. Anyone worth their stones knew not to go with a stranger.
I made it to the top of the stairs, freezing the moment I saw her friend, Kelsey, stumbling out of the bathroom, adjusting her pants. She must’ve been satisfied, for she wore a big smile, along with cheeks that were a tad too rosy.
“Kelsey,” I said, “we need to…” The last word, go, died on my tongue as I watched someone else exit the bathroom, barely able to keep himself up.
Fucking Sawyer.
Before I knew what I was doing, I rushed past Kelsey and had Sawyer by the neck, jamming my elbow into his throat as I slammed him back into the wall. A picture hanging nearby fell to the floor, its glass shattering.
“Hey,” Kelsey shouted. “What the hell, man? Let him go.”
Sawyer could hardly keep his eyes open. The pupils were dilated to the extreme, and I’d never felt more disgusted. “What the fuck were you doing?” I shouted, right into his face. The bastard didn’t even flinch, and I smelled the booze on his breath. Normally I wasn’t one to let my emotions get the better of me, but this was one of those rare occasions.
“Travis,” Sawyer muttered my name, trying to push me off and failing spectacularly. “What are you doing? I didn’t do shit—”
“Travis?” Kelsey echoed my name, staring at me as if she knew me. Did Ash tell her about me? Did she mention names? If so, it might be easier to get her to come with me. Sawyer could find his own way back.
“Bullshit,” I hissed. “You fucked up, Sawyer, you fucked up like you always do, and I swear to God if your fuckup ends up hurting Ash, I’m going to kill you.” A whispered threat that was no threat, but a promise. People in my family didn’t make threats.
Kelsey looked like she was going to be sick. “Wait. Sawyer? But—” She went for Sawyer’s hair, and I held him in place as she did. Her fingers touched what must be hair spray or some kind of black slick, for when she ran her palm through his hair, the faintest bits of pink became visible. “Oh, my…fuck.” She repeated the word fuck about a dozen times, hurrying down the stairs to presumably look for Ash.
Still holding Sawyer back, I whipped out my phone. Declan answered on the first ring, apprehension plain in his voice, “What’s going on? Did something happen?” He wasn’t going to be thrilled when I told him everything I’d found out, but for now…
For now I had to get Kelsey out of here, and I might as well bring the shithead along, in case he thought about doing something else.
“It’s a long story. Meet me at Sawyer’s place.” I knew he remembered the address. And if not, he could always look at the text I sent him, the one with Ash and Sawyer looking mighty close as they danced together.
No, Ash deserved someone so much better than Sawyer.
I would clean up this mess, and then I’d find her. I would find her and I would make that man, Ray Ruiz, rue the very day he was born. He thought he was some hotshot serial killer who got off because of a technicality? Stupid. The real serial killers didn’t go on the news, or go on trial. I would know—my family’s full of them.
Killers, I mean.
My family’s full of killers, and once I get out of Hillcrest, I’ll be one, too.
Technically though, I supposed I already was.
